“Then I’ll see you both tomorrow.”
“Blessed be, Breen Siobhan.”
“Blessed be, Nan,” she said as Marg’s dragon glided down to the road.
Then she turned and watched Keegan, his leather duster billowing, stride toward her.
She wasn’t sure if calling him her man was accurate, but she wanted him tonight. For the comfort and the goodness.
CHAPTER SIX
The morning of the solstice dawned cool and bright. In Fey Cottage, an early-rising Marco stayed busy in the kitchen creating what he called his Wedding Day Brunch Extravaganza.
Breen opted to stay out of his way, but instead of her usual routine went on a cleaning binge.
They’d host the bride, her mother, grandmother, sisters-in-law, mother-in-law, Marg, and Minga for the brunch, for hairstyling, dressing, wine drinking, and anything else that fit into the day.
She wanted the house to shine, in and out, and wanted an abundance of flowers, inside and out. They’d never had so many people in the cottage at one time—and she admitted the addition of the group from the Capital made her nervous.
Nothing less than perfect would do, not for her oldest friend’s wedding day, or the home Marg had given her.
Marco—the only male (along with Bollocks) allowed—fussed for hours in the kitchen, so he clearly felt the same about his brunch.
At one point, he surfaced enough to glance over the stove at the table she’d just finished.
“Holy Martha Stewart, Breen, that looks like a freaking magazine.”
She stepped back to study the centerpiece, a clear glass bowl filled with flowers and herbs on a bed of crystals, and the carefully scattered tea lights, the champagne flutes and water glasses, the multicolored rainbow of napkins artfully—and painfully—swirled over snow-white plates.
“It’s not too much?”
“Girl, it’s a wedding. Ain’t nothing too much.” He stepped out of the kitchen, glanced toward the living room. “Okay, wow time.”
“But not too much? Not too many flowers? Did I go overboard with the flowers?”
“It’s like a garden, and it’s all that. All that and more. And, man, everything shines. You got the fire going, the candles going, flowers all over, pillows all plumped up. Christmas tree shining. It’s total girl time. I’m privileged to be part of it.”
He put an arm around her shoulders. “And just in time, because here come the ladies. I’m going to start pouring mimosas.”
Breen went out to meet them, and Tarryn stopped to take in the cottage.
“Well, it couldn’t be more charming, could it then? And look at your gardens! Blooming right through December.”
“You’ve a lovely view, don’t you?” Sinead pressed her hands together to look out at the bay. “A lovely view on a lovely day. And the sweetest dog.” She bent down to kiss Bollocks on the nose as he wagged himself into delirium.
“Come in, and welcome.”
They came in chattering, bright, happy voices with plenty to say.
“Mimosas for my ladies,” Marco announced as he passed them out. “And for those with babies on board, a wedding day special.”
“A toast to the bride,” Tarryn began.
“Let me have the first toast, would you?” Morena lifted her glass. “To the very best of friends and family, who are one and the same, anyone could have. Thank you for making this a day I’ll never forget.Sláinte!”
They drank, chattered some more, then carted wedding day finery to the bedrooms Breen assigned and settled the sleeping baby on the bed.
“She’s so beautiful, Noreen.”