Page 23 of Devil's Luck

“Don’t thank me quite yet,”

Looking up, I look at him in question. “Why not?”

“Before I ask you the most important question of our lives and slip this ring onto your finger, I need to tell you a story.”

“Okay?”

Fergus lifts the ring up between us again, fidgeting it a little bit back and forth so the sun coming in through the hayloft doors catches the gem, sending a rainbow of sparkles across the wall beside us.

“Like I said, this ring belonged to Nana Máire. She got it from her husband, my grandfather, right after my Da Sean was born. She says while it was the only happy day of their marriage, because from what I’ve heard and remember, he was an awful man, she wanted me to find someone to give this to that I loved. She wanted my generation, Tadhg and myself, to marry for love. She wanted us to break the tradition of arranged and loveless marriages and to be happy. And you, Nola Beatrice Taylor, make me the happiest man on this damn spinning rock we call Earth. I love you and I want to slide this ring on your finger, with the heart facing out so everyone knows that you are mine until I canturn it around so the heart faces in on the day we say ‘I do’. I want us to give this ring many years of new and happy memories as we live together in our home and build our family.” He stops, takes a big breath and slowly lets it out. “So what I’m really trying to say under all this other babble is this . . . Nola, will you make me a very, very happy man and be my bean chéile?”

“I would be honored to be your wife.” I press my hands to his cheeks, then rest my forehead against his and kiss him gently. “That will make you my fear chéile, right?”

“Now where did you learn that from?” Fergus lets out a giant belly laugh as he lurches forward, flipping us all around until I’m laying flat on my back and he’s braced above me like the fierce protector he is.

“I know a few other Irish people, ya know.” Smiling up, I hold up my left hand for him to slide the ring on my finger.

And then he attacks.

CHAPTER TEN

FERGUS

MIDDLE OF OCTOBER

What a crazy turn my life has taken over the last year. If you would have told me I’d be laying in my bed with Nola even eight months ago, I would’ve denied even having feelings for the woman until I was blue in the face. But now . . . now I will shout it from the mountain tops that she is all mine.

Face to face, with my right hand cradling her cheek against the pillow, and my left resting on top of her wiggling belly, I am the most content I’ve ever felt.

“You take such good care of us,” Nola whispers as she traces her fingers through my beard.

“Tá fáilte romhat, mo fhíorghra.” I give her smirk as our baby kicks my hand. “Anything and everything for you and our munchkin.”

Stretching, because she can never stay in one position for long know what she is carrying our child in her very quickly growing belly. I swear, ever since she hit that three month mark, there is more and more of my woman to love every day.

“I can’t wait until he is here.”

“Wait.” I sit up in shock, holding my hand up like a stop sign and staring down at her like she just said the grass is purple. “Did you just say he? Did you find out what we’re having without me?”

Nola sits up too and swings her legs over the side of the bed. I move so I’m sitting next to her.

“I didn’t—” she starts, but I cut her off with a laugh, squinting at her because she just spilled some beans we weren’t supposed to know yet.

“Nola Beatrice Taylor, what did you do?”

“Well,” she hems and haws for a few seconds, batting her pretty little eyelashes at me because she knows I’m a sucker for her pretty brown eyes. “You know how at my last ultrasound we said we didn’t want to know?”

“Yes,” I reply, because that’s what we had debated about for the five months prior since we found out she was pregnant. “You said you wanted to be surprised.”

“I did.”

“So what happened?”

Nola lets out a sigh and gets up to start pacing. “The clinic called yesterday to confirm my appointment for next week so I asked for the results. I wanted to do something fun to reveal it to you, because I knew you really wanted to know, but I wore you downwhen I said I didn’t.” All the while her arms are flapping back and forth like an adorable chicken, back and forth in front of me she walks. “I had a really cute way I was going to tell you tomorrow and surprise you, but it just slipped out. I’m sorry.”

Reaching out a hand, I grab hold of the first part of her I can reach, her left hand. I pull her restless little body between my legs and lift her fingers to my lips so I can kiss her ring. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You’re a sneaky little minx, but I love that about you.”

“So you’re not mad?” The worried look on her face is adorable, but totally unnecessary.

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