Matt kissed the tip of her nose and pulled her tightly against him again, holding her head over his strong warrior’s heart. “Do you remember the look on Megan’s face when I walked into your gallery that first day?” he asked, and Winter nodded against him. “Well, she’ll probably faint the first time she sees Kenzie.” He kissed the top of her head. “But Fiona was really the one with the good looks in our family.
She took after our mother.”
He used her hair to gently lift her face to his and kissed her. “This evening after the party, we’ll bring Pendaär, Robbie, and your papa with us, and we’ll go to the cliff together and see if our combined strengths can’t open it up.” He smiled tightly. “And if we still can’t budge the rock, I’ll let you and your lethal pencil raise your own havoc.”
Winter leaned into him. “So what do we do until this afternoon?” she whispered. “I’ll go crazy just sitting around here waiting and worrying.”
He brushed his fingers through her hair. “I suppose we could build a fire in the hearth and play Monopoly.”
“Naw,” she whispered, shaking her head. “I don’t care much for losing to you again.”
“We could soak in the hot tub until we wrinkle,” he offered next. “That might relax you enough to actually enjoy your party. And you can go over everyone’s names for me—uncles and aunts included
—and who they’re married to, what they have for kids, and what each of their husbands does for a living.” She looked up and he smiled. “I’m never going to keep everyone straight. Gù Brath must be near bursting with people just from your sisters and their families. Do you have this party every year before Christmas?”
“Yes,” she said, stroking his ribs as she stood in his loose embrace. “And every summer solstice we do it again with mama’s six brothers, their wives, and children and grandchildren.” She reached up and started toying with one of the buttons on his shirt. “But I don’t feel like reciting my family tree right now.”
“Then what do you feel like doing?”
She flattened her hand on his chest, right over his heart. “Do you love me, Matt?”
“Aye,” he whispered. “More than life itself, lass.”
Winter couldn’t hide her surprise, or her frown. “Since when?”
“Since you took my hand and led me through the woods that night, to listen to TarStone breathing.”
Since then? He’d loved her from the very beginning? “We’d just met,” she snapped. “And you hustled me down the mountain before I even had a chance to catch my breath.” She smacked his chest.
“I asked you in the cave if you loved me, and you said you couldn’t ever love anyone.”
He captured her hand and held it over his heart. “I didn’t realize that I loved you then. Not until later.”
“When, later?”
“When you stood in a seedy little chapel in Vegas and pledged yourself to not only Matheson Gregor, but to Cùram de Gairn.”
“That was nine weeks ago.” She couldn’t smack him again because he was still holding her hand, so she dug her fingers into his chest. “And you didn’t once think to tell me you loved me since then?” she growled. “What, it just slipped your mind?”
Matt bent down and slid one hand under her knees and swept her into his arms with a body-shaking laugh. “I was waiting for you to ask me again,” he said as he mounted the porch stairs. He stopped and used his hand under her knees to open the front door, then straightened and shrugged, shaking her again. “Have pity, lass. It’s a hard concept for a man to wrap his mind around.”
“Love isn’t a weakness, you know.”
“I know,” he said, striding through the living room and into the bedroom. “But then, neither is patience,” he added, holding her over the bed. He smiled rather mischievously and suddenly let her go.
But he followed Winter’s short fall to the mattress, softly landing beside her and throwing one leg over hers as his hand went to the zipper on her jacket. “So, have you decided what you feel like doing for the next couple of hours?”
Chapter Twenty-five
B y two-thirty that afternoon,Gù Brath could have been a case study in social chaos. Winter realized a newfound respect for the men who had been brave enough to marry MacKeage women. Oh, she didn’t admire them for surviving the scrutiny of both Greylen MacKeage and Robbie MacBain, nor even for winning over Grace MacKeage’s heart. Winter was instead impressed by the fact that the husbands possessed the courage to not only come here every winter solstice, but to actually enjoy themselves.
But more than being a study in chaos, the MacKeage birthday party was also a discourse on filling up the most space with the most bodies, and on catering efficiency. No matter how huge Gù Brath was, there wasn’t a corner not taken up by a gaggle of children, their new toys or pets, and vigilant adults. And the food! A White House state dinner couldn’t be more elaborate. Winter still didn’t know how her mama managed to make it all come together each year, all within a few days before Christmas.
Not twenty minutes after arriving though, Winter was in the kitchen trying to wipe ketchup off Matt’s shirt, which Sarah’s youngest son had dropped there, when Heather burst through the door from the hall. “And where were you this morning?” she asked, shifting Elizabeth’s three-year-old son to her other hip. Heather finally noticed Matt, did a double take, then brought incredulous eyes back to Winter.
“Never mind,” she whispered, leaning closer, her face glowing with delight. “I remember being a newlywed.” She turned to Matt and held out her free hand. “You must be Matt Gregor. I’m Heather, Winter’s oldest sister from California.”
“Unky Matt!” Joel said, hurling himself from Heather’s arms toward Matt. Matt had met Elizabeth and her two kids weeks ago, since they lived right in Pine Creek. And even though Joel had only seen Matt maybe three or four times, the toddler had taken to him immediately and kept insisting on riding on Matt’s shoulders.
Winter sighed at the realization Joel’s hands were sticky with some sort of candy and had added a blue stain next to the ketchup on her husband’s shirt. Matt caught the three-year-old missile and swung him up onto his shoulders with a laugh.
“So,” Heather said, linking her arm through Winter’s as she smiled at Matt. “I see you’ve discovered the MacKeage curse the same way all our unsuspecting husbands did.”
“The MacKeage curse?” Matt asked, carefully removing Joel’s sticky fists from his hair and holding them safely in his hands.
Heather laughed when Winter reached over and pinched her in warning. Not that it did any good.
“It seems all us girls got pregnant the first time we made love to our husbands. Or should I say our soon-to-be husbands,” Heather said with another laugh when Matt shot his gaze to Winter.
Winter felt herself blush all the way to her toes. “That’s why Camry is scared to death of dating,” she said, canting her chin defensively.
Matt looked back at Heather and lifted a brow. “And none of you ladies thought to warn your soon-to-be husbands of this…ah, curse?”
“We didn’t put two and two together until after Chelsea got married,” Heather explained with a shake of her head. “No matter what birth control we tried, it didn’t seem to work.” She looked at Winter and smiled sadly. “It doesn’t look good for Megan, though. I don’t think Wayne Ferris is man enough to step up to the altar.”
“She doesn’t need the bastard,” Matt growled before Winter could respond. “The right guy will come along one of these days, and Ferris won’t even be a memory.”
“Bastard,” Joel repeated, bouncing on Matt’s shoulders.