Page 49 of Joanna's Highlander (Highland Protector 2)

“Please,” she whispered in an even quieter voice that she doubted he could hear.

In one smooth motion, Grant dismounted and stood in front of her. Hesitantly, he drew her close, slid one finger under her chin, then gently but firmly lifted. “Forever? Ye swear it t’me?”

Joanna reached up and cupped his face, rubbing her thumb across the overgrown stubble shadowing his cheek. “I swear it. There’s not a thing on earth that will ever make me leave you again. No job. No amount of money. Nothing.” She sniffed, blinking fast as the tears started again. “I’m so sorry that I was such a fool. Please let me come home.”

Grant answered with a kiss.

Cheers erupted from every window of the bus. The driver honked the horn and flashed the lights.

Joanna tucked her head to Grant’s chest, then wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed. “Take me home, Grant.”

“Gladly,” he said as he swept her up into his arms, placed her at the front of the saddle, then took his place behind her. He wrapped an arm around her waist and snugged her back against him. Leaning forward, he pressed his mouth close to her ear and whispered, “One more thing, lass, t’seal the bargain. No more condoms, aye?”

“Aye,” she laughed. “No more condoms.”

Epilogue

“Unfasten it. I can’t breathe.” Joanna held tight to the bedpost while Lucia unhooked the dress of the lightest ecru lace that had fit quite nicely just four short weeks ago. Apparently, the breast-milk fairy had outdone herself with the magical boob-growing wand and her stomach was already developing a slight baby bump, rendering the lovely fitted dress of lace unwearable. “What am I going to wear—a freaking bedsheet?”

“You can’t get married in a bedsheet.” Lucia slid the dress down Joanna’s arms, helped her step out of it, then put it back on the hanger. “You want people to think your wedding has a toga party theme?”

Joanna sagged down to the cushioned bench at the foot of the bed. “At this point, I don’t care what they think. All I know is that I’m miserable and I’m not even out of the first trimester yet. You weren’t this big this early with T. I can’t believe I’m already this huge.”

“You’re not huge, and I wasn’t that big at this stage because I only had one bun in the oven—not two.”

The faint strain of bagpipes, fiddles, and drums sounded from down beside the river. Sunset would be in just a little under an hour. It was almost time.

Joanna glanced toward the window, then down at her rounding stomach. “What the hell am I going to wear to marry your father?”

“Here. Wear this.” Lucia emerged from the closet with a sleeveless maxi-dress made from a gauzy slinky material, tie-dyed in spiraling shades of aqua to the deepest navy blue.

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“It’s this or the bedsheet. What’s it going to be? We’re out of time.” Lucia pulled the dress off the hanger and gathered it up to pull it over Joanna’s head. “Now, here. Lift up your arms.”

A loud banging shook the bedroom door. “Mama! Auntie Jo! Uncle Grant said you two need to hurry up. He sent me up here to make sure y’all hadn’t run away.”

Lucia rolled her eyes, then jerked her chin for Joanna to raise her arms higher.

“Hello? I know you’re in there. I just heard you talking about Auntie Jo being huge before I knocked.”

“I’m almost ready, T. Everyone just needs to be patient.” Joanna yanked the much more comfortable maternity sundress down over her head and shook it down her body. This was a lot more comfortable, but she sure didn’t look like the average bride.

“Tyler, are you still out there?” Lucia turned toward the door.

“Maybe.” A shuffling just outside the door gave him away. “If I’m ’posed to be I am.”

“Yes. You’re supposed to be because you have to give Auntie Jo away like we practiced. You wait right there so you don’t get dirty. Okay?” Lucia fastened the brooch necklace around Joanna’s neck and did her best to fluff some life back into Joanna’s limp curls. “Curls are futile. Not with this humidity.”

“Just pull it back into a bun. I don’t care at this point.” Joanna kicked off the lace pumps she’d donned to match the wedding dress and slid on her leather sandals in their place. “Might as well be comfortable from head to toe.”

“You look beautiful,” Lucia said as she stepped back and smiled. Her gaze fell to Joanna’s more-ample-than-usual bustline and her smile grew even wider. “Trust me. Grant will love the dress.” She hurried to the bedroom door and pulled it open. “Oh, Tyler!”

Poor Tyler. Joanna could tell by Lucia’s tone that the boy was in trouble.

“I told you to stay clean.”

“You know I can’t wear white, Mama. You said so yourself.” Tyler proudly marched into the room, grass stains on the belly and elbows of his white dress shirt and the knees of his white pants. He held out his hand to Joanna. “You ready, Auntie Jo? You sure look pretty. I don’t think you look huge at all.”

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