“You’re late,” Ginger says, with a lift of her chin. “My chicken pot pies are getting cold.”

Willa wrinkles her nose and groans. Dammit, my girl is adorable. “I just landed and you’re already trying to kill me with your cooking?”

Ginger drags her inside. At the last minute, Willa latches onto my hand and pulls me in with her. “Now, that’s just not fair. Look at Derek, he’s healthy as a horse.”

Derek isn’t paying the women any attention, though. He’s too busy trying to size me up. Willa has told me numerous stories about him. His unique personality, his protectiveness when it comes to her and Ginger. Now, I know they’re all true. He’s kind of a bad ass. Well, so am I. And it’s my job to protect Willa now.

“Took you long enough,” he says.

My first instinct is to tell him Willa and I make decisions for ourselves, but like I said, I understand. Being without her…it’s not something I want to think about. “Won’t happen again if I can help it.”

His frown eases just a little. “These girls do things when they’re good and ready, don’t they?”

“Amen to that.” I reach out to shake his hand. He considers me a moment, before taking my offered hand. And gripping it hard enough to snap a weaker man’s bones. “Shane.”

“Derek.” He lets go, crosses his arms, and watches his wife. I get the feeling he watches her most of the time and reckon I do the same with Willa. As far as I’m concerned, there’s no better place to rest my eyes than on her.

We’re distracted when the women fall silent. I glance over to find Willa enfolded in a hug from Ginger, both of their eyes closed as if absorbing strength. Dolly is silent between them, as if she can sense the importance of the moment.

“Bring her home more often,” Derek says in a quiet voice, and I nod once.

After a moment, Ginger backs away with a watery smile and hands the baby to Willa. Immediately, the baby’s hand gets tangled in her gorgeous hair and she laughs, long and hard. It makes everything inside me relax and tighten at the same time. Derek and Ginger exchange a look, then glance over at me.

At least, I think they do.

I’m looking at Willa.

Acknowledgments

To my husband Patrick, who brought me to Dublin for the first time to meet his family six years ago, thank you for sharing that part of yourself with me. And to our two-year old daughter Mackenzie, who is currently wreaking havoc on the city as I type these acknowledgments, thank you. I love you both.

To Heather Howland, who gave me the freedom to send Willa somewhere new and outside of her comfort zone to give her a story, thank you so much.

To Ellie Brennan, for working so hard and helping those early chapters take shape, thank you.

To Cari Quinn, whose kindness and honesty kept me motivated throughout this process, thank you.

To Fiona Clarke, real, live Irish girl from Wicklow, who told me when my Irish slang sounded too American, thank you. Your help was invaluable.

To fabulous author Sophie Jordan, who cover quoted this book, I’m so glad to know you. Your support and encouragement has been unexpected and amazing.

To Edie Harris, for giving me some insightful feedback and calling Willa’s story, “grip-me-by-the-throat, steal-my-breath romantic.” That email gave me the positive kick in the ass I needed. Thank you.

To everyone who asked for Willa’s happily ever after.