Page 27 of Bargain Match

At the mention of years, Burke’s face falls. “No, you’re right. That’s not good at all.”

“So let’s get married here.” I take his hands in mine and squeeze them. “It’s gorgeous here. We’re basically already on our honeymoon. Plus, people have been running away to get married in Scotland for years.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Seriously?”

I nod. “At least they do in all of those Jane Austen books. They always eloped to Gretna Green.”

The idea of running away with my best friend to be married in a place where so many other people have run away with the person they loved over centuries… It sounds like a wild adventure.

It sounds like us.

“Eloping in Scotland,” he says the words slowly as if trying them on for size. A grin explodes across his face. “I love it. It sounds just crazy enough—for us—to work.”

“So it’s a deal?” I ask.

He presses another firm kiss on my lips. “You bet your sweet ass it’s a deal.”

EPILOGUE

TWO WEEKS LATER

BURKE

It turns out eloping to Gretna Green isn’t as easy today as it was when that Jane Austen lady was alive.

For starters, as Americans, Hadley and I had to provide proof that there were “no impediments” to our getting hitched. Whatever the hell that means. My girl took care of that. All I know is it involved a notary and several international phone calls.

Then, we had to book a place. I guess the whole showing up at a blacksmith’s shop and repeating a few vows doesn’t work in the 21st century.

By this point, the whole eloping concept was out the window. Once Glynis and Malcolm got involved with the wedding, I all but begged Hadley to wait until we got back to Alaska and tie the knot there. But, as usual, she brought me around to her way of thinking.

Ten days—and way too damn many conversations about flowers, fabric, and food—later, it’s finally here.

The day I marry my best friend.

“I’m not one to tell a man how he should live his life, but if I were ye, I’d wipe that fierce frown off your face,” Malcom loudly whispers in my ear. “Ye’ll scare yer bride off, and then where will ye be?”

“I’m not frowning.” My brow furrows more deeply. “I’m just thinking.”

“Well, maybe think of something a wee more pleasant. The lass will think ye don’t mean to marry her.”

“I’m going to marry her.”

“Then maybe ye should look like you want to.”

I sigh. “I’m not upset. I’m just… uncomfortable.”

He nods knowingly. “It takes time to grow accustom to wearing a kilt.”

That had been another change in our wedding plans. As soon as the running off and marrying as soon as we could concept went out the window, bit by bit Hadley and I were roped into embracing a full Scottish wedding.

Kilt and all.

“Me, I’ve been wearing a kilt since I was a lad.” Malcolm chuckles. “Why, I quite like the feel of the air along my bits and pieces. I know people say the cold can make them shrivel. I’m inclined to think it makes ye stronger. Ye’ll want yer seed strong and mighty when ye take yer bride as yer wife.”

I turn to tell him to shut the fuck up. But the door at the back of the chapel opens. I lose the power of speech.

I can’t think.

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