Page 138 of One Time in Paris
What?
She stared at him, stunned.
Aiden stiffened. “I don’t know if that’s the best phrasing.”
Callum chuckled. “Of course, if you still want the job runningLa Hacienda, it’s yours, but otherwise, I took the liberty of hiring Sergio as the full-time manager. And do you remember Marco? He’d been interested in working atLa Haciendathree years ago but decided to study tourism and marketing at uni first. He applied for assistant manager, and I feel he’s perfect for the job. And, in the meantime, I’d like to hire you—if you’re interested—in helping me renovate a few properties I’ve bought for short-term rentals. You did such a fantastic job withLa Haciendathat I thought you might enjoy it. Plus, it would keep you in the country and?—”
He didn’t finish. Isla cut him off with a hug, a surge of emotion flooding her. She squeezed him tightly, pressing her face into his shoulder, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over.
God, she loved her brother.
He’d always been there for her. Helping her when she needed it.
And now . . . what he was offering?
It’s perfect.
Tears stung her eyes, and she squeezed him tightly. “How did you know?”
“That you wanted to quit? Or that you might be keen to help me with the renovations?” Callum returned her hug and then pulled back, grinning at Aiden. “A friend of mine might have supplied me with some inside information.”
“You’re not mad at me for quittingLa Hacienda?”
“You know . . . funny thing. That same friend helped me to see how saving the place wasn’t just about you. Useful people, those friends.”
She could kiss Aiden for it.
Having a husband who was best friends with her brother might turn out to be the best decision she’d ever made.
“And Mum? How did she take all this?” Isla asked.
Callum chuckled. “Have you met your mother? She carried on in the only way our mother knows how. And then she hugged me, knowing that her baby girlIslitawould be happy.”
Isla smiled, so at peace.Finally.
He set a hand on her shoulder. “Is that a yes?”
“Yes,” she said tearfully. “To all of it. The quitting. The renovations. And dinner with you and Liddy...and Davy.”
Callum smiled. “Good.” He winked at her. “Then we’ll see you at dinner. Come on, Davy. We don’t want to interrupt the honeymooners.”
As they left, Isla turned back toward Aiden, her heart so full that she could barely form a sentence.
“Happy?” Aiden asked, setting his hands around her waist.
“I—” She couldn’t get the words out and kissed him instead. “I love you with all my heart, Aiden Camden.”
“Good. Consider it a wedding present. You still probably have to go to Costa Rica tomorrow—get your things—but I want you coming back to me as soon as possible, darling wife. Turns out the thought of having you away makes me profoundly cranky.”
Isla sighed happily, then leaned against Aiden, tucking her head against his chest. “I love you, Isla Camden,” he whispered.
“I love you, too. And I can’t wait to spend my life with you.”
Willow branches swayed above the water, their shadows dancing on the worn stone benches tucked beneath them. The scent of fresh peonies floated on the breeze, twining with the earthy tang of grass and river stone. Somewhere upriver, the low chug of the engines of the bateaux-mouches teased the evening air, and the sunlight dripped gold over the slow, shining skin of the Seine.
It was the kind of place made for whispered promises. For choosing forever.
EPILOGUE
