Liv concentrated hard on notpeering down the top table to look at Arran for the hundredth time that evening. He was so goddamn handsome in that blue-green kilt. The black socks hugged his muscular calves and he’d rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt to reveal the hard contours of his forearms. Now he was lifting an arm to loosen the green cravat at the top of his waistcoat, and she was practically drooling in response.

It was true that a kilt made any man appear at least fifty percent more attractive, but a guy who was already as handsome as Arran? It was stratospheric.

The band were setting up across from the top table, and the other tables had been moved to the side of the long, high-ceilinged ballroom to make way for the dance floor in the center. Portraits of stuffy old lairds and ladies lined the wood-paneled room, watching everyone enjoying themselves with condescending expressions. Evening guests were arriving and taking their seats as Sam and Maya made their way around the room to greet people.

Liv had lost count of how many times she’d looked over all Arran’s lovely messages and photos, trying to analyze every singleword. And the photo album was the icing on the cake. She couldn’t get through it without becoming teary. Surely it all meant that Arran, true to his word, wanted to be with her. Something else occurred to her. Over the last several weeks, Arran had started referring to Rory by his actual name, rather than calling him “the boyfriend” in that resentful tone. Perhaps that was another sign that he was finally letting go of his relationship with Jess. And that predated anything that had happened between the two of them, so maybe it all had been completely over in his mind before they’d even kissed. Which would mean that his relationship with Jess would have been over even if Liv weren’t on the scene, and she was not a third wheel by any measure.

She was in no doubt that she loved him, and her little seed of hope that he loved her back had been nurtured and grown by Arran’s sweet and winsome gestures. So only one barrier remained—was she brave enough to take a chance on a relationship with him? The stakes were high. She could lose her best friend, and Jayce, if it went wrong. And the chances of her making a wrong move must be high given her emotional baggage and inexperience with long-term relationships.

The speeches were over and Liv had been impressed at how Sam had managed to give a coherent and touching address, despite having drunk a considerable amount of wine over dinner. Though it was a good thing he’d gone before Maya, because her speech had brought the house down. Nobody would have wanted to follow that little number.

Something tugged at her arm and she startled out of her reverie. Elise was pulling her in. “Listen to me. The band are getting ready for the first dance, so you need to get yourself sorted out before you and I join them on the dance floor with Arran and Nico.”

Liv’s heart rose into her throat and she swallowed, bringing her eyes up to meet Elise’s. “I’m scared, Elise.”

Elise gathered her into a hug. “What are you scared of?”

Her pulse picked up speed. “Of messing up. Of driving him away.”

Elise sighed. “I understand. However, I think you need to look at it this way—you’d have nothing to lose by taking a chance, but a lifetime of happiness to lose if you didn’t. Take Arran and Jess, for example. They’re on good terms, despite a messy breakup, and they have lovely Jayce to show for it.” Elise pulled back to meet her eyes. “But if you want my opinion, you and Arran are the real deal. We can all see it.”

Liv tried to speak, but the lump in her throat hindered her.

Elise took her hand, looking at their entwined fingers. Her voice was quiet. “What could’ve gone more wrong with Harry and me than him dying and leaving me alone? Our son won’t even remember him.”

Liv sucked in a sharp breath, her heart cracking in two. She closed her eyes briefly to squeeze back the hot sting of tears.

Elise swallowed, clearly working hard to keep her voice even. “But I regret nothing. I wouldn’t have missed out on a single day with him, and I willalwayscherish the time we had together.”

The band announced the first dance, and Sam led Maya onto the dance floor, but Liv couldn’t look at them; she was too caught up in the emotion in Elise’s shimmering blue eyes.

“You have to do it, Liv. Take a leap of faith and trust that whatever happens, your time together will have been worth it.”

The band announced that the best women and men would be joining the bride and groom, and still Liv couldn’t tear her eyes from Elise. Until Nico arrived and held out his hand.

Elise gave Liv a smile, then took Nico’s hand and followed him to the dance floor, where they joined Maya and Sam.

For a moment, her limbs felt heavy and stuck.

Then Arran was there. Taking her hand and lifting her to herfeet, guiding her to the dance floor and moving with her in unison to the music. She gripped his strong shoulder and he held her waist securely, her hand in his as they moved across the dance floor to Louis Armstrong’s “We Have All the Time in the World.”

She’d been afraid that she’d prevent him from being happy, because she loved him and Jayce too much to mess it up.Loved him.She was so in love with him. But that meant gambling on him—on both of them—and finally, she realized she was equipped to meet the challenge. She wasn’t going to let the legacy of Douchebag Dave taint her chance at happiness any longer.

The band called the rest of the guests to join the dance, and the floor quickly became packed. Arran pulled her closer, hugging her to him. With her heels on, the top of her head reached just under his chin. They fit together perfectly, in every way. The epiphany that Elise had helped her to reach shone brightly, lighting up her soul and burning away the remnants of her fears. She needed to tell him how she felt.

She lifted her head, intending to ask him if they could go somewhere to talk.

“We need to talk,” he told her, before she got the chance.

“Yes,” she said, and as the song ended, she tugged his hand to lead them from the dance floor and across the stone floor, exiting the ballroom into the bar area. Liv scanned around for where might be quiet to talk, but there were people everywhere.

“This way,” Arran said, leading her toward the spiral staircase that led down to the entrance hall, and sneaking past the “No Entry” sign that blocked the way up. They ascended right to the top, their shoes creating an echo on the stone steps that reverberated ahead of them, as if finding the summit by echolocation.

The stairs gave way to a small room at the top of the turret, containing one small window overlooking the grounds. It was coolup there after the heat of the reception, and Liv wrapped her arms around herself.

Arran pulled her to his chest. “I should’ve brought my jacket for you.”

“It’s okay,” she said, pressing her cheek to his chest and breathing him in. “I prefer this to a jacket.”