Page 209 of Charlie

She zips her lips closed. "Don't worry, I already packed for you." She crouches down in front of me, squeezing my shoulders. "Enjoy yourself, Charlie." She kisses my cheek, her intoxicating perfume invading my senses.

"You always smell so good."

"I'd say you could borrow it, but I don't think Jack wants you smelling like his sister."

"Yeah, probably not," I laugh, taking the champagne flute she holds out for me. She fills the glass a quarter of the way, then takes it from me and hands me the bottle.

"Drink up, bitch." She clinks her glass against the bottle, downs it, and walks out the door.

I watch her head back outside, my heart full. What would I ever do without her? I'm almost positive I wouldn't be getting married tomorrow if it hadn't been for her pep talks and gentle nudges. I only hope that one day I’ll be able to return the favor.

Arty meets me in the front hall at promptly five minutes until eight, dressed up in his Harris Tweed. We walk outside together, arm in arm. I lead him around the side of the house and down the path to the long table Isla has set up near the loch. Cafe lights, strung between tall poles, twinkling over the sparkling place settings, mismatched tapers dotting the center of the table, candlelight flickering over mounds of cascading flowers. There's a smaller table to the side, two tall candelabras lending their light to show off a dozen silver chafing dishes. Isla is peeking into them, fussing with the levels of the fire beneath.

"Isla, this is beautiful!" I wrap my arms around her, squeezing tight.

"I'm glad you think so, Charlie." She holds me at arm's length, tears welling in her eyes when she sees what I'm wearing. "The family tartan?" I look down at my gown, the blues and greens of the tartan muted in the dim light.

"I wanted something special. Arty got in touch with the people he knows here in town and they were able to steer me in the right direction. Did I get it right?" I twirl, the full skirt swishing around my feet.

"It's not just right, it's perfect." She looks behind me and grins, taking a step back.

"Charlotte."

My heart jumps to my throat as I turn toward Jack. An impeccably tailored suit covers his giant form, the rich brown bringing out the gold of his eyes.

"That's a dangerous game you're playing, mo chridhe. Seeing your body draped in my colors makes me want to steal you away and keep you for myself." He slides his fingers over my palm, pulling my hand to his mouth, warm lips grazing my knuckles.

"I like dangerous games," I murmur, shrieking when strong hands wrap around my waist and spin me around. The emotions flickering across Lach’s face rip the breath from my lungs. His eyes darken, that full bottom lip trapped in his teeth as he rakes his eyes over me.

"Am I invited?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. "You look ravishing, Charlie. God damn." He spins me under his arm, the corners of his mouth pulling up when I giggle. "I don't know what I did in a previous life to deserve you, but what I do know is I'm not going to take a single second for granted."

"You can take me for granted anytime," Cam pipes in, approaching with an easy smile. He stops dead in his tracks as I spin toward him, his hand flying to his chest. "Charlie. Fuck." He caresses my cheek, and then his hand is sinking into my hair and he's pulling me close, warm lips fitting to mine like a missing puzzle piece. "In less than twenty-four hours until I’ll be able to introduce you as my wife," he says, pulling back, grinning. "I didn't think this day would ever come, but here we are. I love you so much, Charlie."

The dinging of silver against crystal grabs our attention, and we all turn to look at Isla standing at the head of the now-filled table.

"Welcome, everyone! Thank you so much for joining us in the union of four of my favorite people on this planet. If you have any questions about your part in the wedding, please ask me tonight. Also, we are keeping the details a surprise for our grooms and bride, so please, no chitter-chatter if they're within earshot. Now, eat, drink, and be merry!"

"The only thing you need to know," Isla says in response to my look of panic over the lack of instruction, "is Lorna and I will come to your room at three tomorrow so we can all get ready together."

"Okay." I take a deep breath, letting the nerves roll off my shoulders. "Thank you, Isla. I truly don't know what I would do without you."

"It's the least I could do to get the guys off my back," she jokes, waving off my praise.

I wrap my arms around her neck. "I mean it, Isla. Thank you. For everything."

"Anything for you, Charlie."

"I promise I'll return the favor someday."

"I'm counting on it."

Isla didn't plan fancy food for dinner; instead, she asked what everyone's favorite food was and, as a result, made everyone feel like a treasured part of the evening. I know almost everyone at the table: Arty, Cam's parents, Lorna and her kids, Greer and Pen. There are two people I don't know: a priest and the man sitting beside him, their hands linked together, resting on the tablecloth. After dinner is over, Jack leads me over to them.

"Charlotte, this is my long-time friend Father Calum."

"It's nice to meet you, Father."

"Call me Calum. The pleasure is all mine." He turns toward the man beside him, "This is my—" he stops, his jaw working for a second.

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