Page 121 of Wedding Crasher

‘Looks like there’s no room at the inn.’

Jonny decided privacy was overrated anyway as Love God slipped his arms around him and copped a feel of his satin-clad bum cheeks.

‘You can open your present now.’

Marla picked up the small box, chewing her lip as she pulled on the red spotted ribbon. It was heavy for a little box. Gabe had already proved himself a thoughtful gift-giver with the picnic extravaganza, so she had no idea what to expect. An ivory box nestled inside the outer wrapping paper.

‘It’s like pass the parcel.’

Her fingers shook as she flicked open the top of the box and peeped inside. It looked like glass, but she couldn’t tell from the top. Something cool and heavy fell into her hand as she tipped the box carefully upside down.

She gasped softly at the beautiful little snow globe; a tiny red and white striped lighthouse peeped through the swirl of snowflakes as they settled.

Gabe reached out and stroked a strand of Marla’s hair. ‘It reminded me of you.’

Oh, he was too good at this stuff. Ivan’s words at Dora’s funeral had been one of the most moving things she’d ever heard. Gabe had clearly been similarly touched.

‘What can I say? It’s perfect.’

Gabe’s suddenly serious eyes searched her face.

‘Is it?’

Tears prickled behind her eyelids, and she placed the snow globe slowly back into its box and set it down on the mattress next to her.

‘That day in the chapel, when I said I didn’t love you …’ she faltered, but she forced herself on because she could tell that he was holding his breath. She didn’t want him keeling over now that she was finally ready to admit her feelings.

‘I was wrong, but it took you leaving for me to see it. And by then it was too late, because you’d gone and I couldn’t tell you.’

He picked her hands up and bumped his thumbs over her knuckles.

‘I hated every minute of not being near you.’

She pulled him close.

‘Then come back. Rebuild the funeral parlour. We’ll find a way to make it work.’ Her voice cracked with the effort of not crying. ‘Just come home. Please?’

He shook his head, and fear speared her heart. He wasn’t coming back. He reached out and stroked her cheek.

‘I’m not rebuilding the funeral parlour, Marla.’

She stared at him, dry-mouthed. ‘Are you going back to Dublin?’

‘Not if I have something to stay for.’

He’d asked the question once before, but this time she answered from her heart.

‘Stay for me. Stay because I love you, Gabe.’

She couldn’t hold the tears in any longer, but it didn’t matter anymore. She’d said what she needed to, and he was kissing her like a drowning man. She wound her arms around his neck and melted against him.

Soft and pliant, against his firmness and warmth.

He brushed away her tears with his fingertips, and for several heavenly moments they dispensed of the need for words altogether.

Gabe came up for air and licked the hollow of her neck.

‘Say it again.’

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