Page 120 of Isla

"The kids love them, Isla. And I swear they're more careful than I am. I've had to tell them to ease up a bit, or I swear they wouldn't even let them run."

My brain is racing, trying to put all of the pieces together. "Let me get this right. You left your kids with your three guy neighbors who you seem to know very well, yet you've never mentioned them a single time," I say, ticking the facts off on my fingers.

"Whatever you're thinking, you're wrong," Lorna huffs, getting irritated.

"Okay, okay. I'll drop it. But next time I'm out there, I want to meet them."

"Fine."

"Fine."

Lorna's gaze finally lifts enough to notice my necklace, and she comes closer, lifting it gently. "Did Henry give you this?" I nod. "It's beautiful. What about Dylan? Has he proposed yet?"

I hold up my left hand, showing her the band. "He asked Jack for something that was Mother's. The diamonds are hers, and the wood is from the bar at the pub."

"Oh, Isla!" Tears are already running down her face as she throws her arms around me. "I'm so glad they found you and that you didn't give up on each other."

"Me, too," I sigh, squeezing her tightly. My alarm goes off in my pocket, startling both of us. "Two hours until show time. Are you ready for this?" I ask, nerves bubbling in my stomach.

"You have no idea. I haven't let loose in way too long."

An hour and a half later, Lorna and I are staring into the mirror, transfixed. "Damn, you look fucking hot. Too bad your neighbor-dad isn't here to see you."

"It's not–" she snaps her mouth closed, refusing to finish the sentence.

"One of the stepsons then," I amend, watching her closely. Her cheeks flame, but she doesn't say anything. "Both of the stepsons?" I can read her like a book and know I haven't quite hit the nail on the head. "All three?" I whisper. Her head snaps up, her eyebrows forming points over her deep blue eyes.

"Enough, Isla."

Oh shit. "Do they know you have a crush on them?"

"Isla!"

"You need to tell them, Lorna. Life is too short not to embrace a chance like this. And Lord knows, most of us don't get an opportunity to live next to a hot dad and his two hottie stepsons"

"God, you're never going to stop, are you?" she groans, covering her face with her hands.

"Do they know what you went to school for?"

"I swear to god, if you breathe a word when you meet them, I'll cut out your tongue," she threatens, her eyes flashing.

"Jesus Christ!" I take a step back, holding up my hands. She mustreally like them. Interesting. I bite my lip to hide my grin and turn back to the mirror, inspecting my reflection. My costume is barely more than a scrap of diaphanous fabric. The neckline of the dress attaches to a gold ring around my neck, the fabric draping over my breasts, falling in soft folds to the floor. It covers all the critical parts but leaves an incredible amount of skin bare. My skin has a soft golden sheen thanks to gold-flecked body oil. I meticulously painted over my freckles with gold paint, leaving my hair down, allowing the copper ringlets to fall down my bare back. A large gold headpiece keeps my hair off my face, golden spikes radiating from my head like rays of the sun.

"Do you think I'm missing anything?" I ask, turning to Lorna.

"Not a thing. You look magnificent. What about me?"

Lorna is dressed as Diana, the goddess of the hunt. She looks like a wood nymph with a lust for revenge. Her gown is less revealing, layers of breezy, cool-toned fabrics flowing over her curves like water over rocks. A silver chain is fastened around her waist, revealing the swell of her hips. She has a huge bow slung over her back, fastened by a thin strap across her chest that blends in with the dress. Her hair is piled on top of her head, curls falling down in a way that makes it look like she just ran through a forest. I lined her eyes with a reddish-orange, making the blue of her irises pop, finishing her look with a swipe of brown mascara and lipgloss. She is absolute perfection.

"You look beautiful, Lorna. Now,tell me about your neighbors before we have to go downstairs."

"Isla-"

"Please? At least show me some pictures!"

She rolls her eyes at me, turning back to inspect her reflection.

"Don't even tell me you don't have pictures of them. I know you better than that. Don't make me steal your phone."

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