Simply Austin

by Gina Robinson

  "I even have mead onboard," Lazer said. "Enough for a full cycle of the moon, you lovebirds."

  "Lazer, you old romantic," I said. "But we aren't married or on our honeymoon. Yet." I winked.

  In medieval times, after the wedding, the bride and groom were given enough honey mead to last one full moon for good luck, good virility, and fertility. I knew the history of the word "honeymoon."

  "You will be soon enough." He opened the cooler and pulled out a carafe of juice.

  We sat around the round table—my gallant knights, my American Scotsman, and me—looking out at the surrounding ocean and cliffs, and had the most astounding breakfast I thought I'd ever have, a medieval breakfast. Every morsel tasted almost magical. I dug into the heavy brown bread and fruit, suddenly ravenous. None of us had eaten more than a quick bite before we left the yacht. Accepting a marriage proposal really worked up an appetite. The guys heaped their plates with three different types of meat. The only thing missing was the ale.

  I raised my slice of brown bread in salute to the men. "This is truly a feast for a king. Thank you."

  Austin nodded. "Except for the ale." He nodded in my direction. "So why are you eating like a peasant—bread and fruit? Take some meat, woman."

  I shook my head. "I'm perfectly happy with bread and fruit. Must be my peasant roots." The guys couldn't know that I was taking a jab at Nigel and the way he threw his patrician ancestry at me. How could I ever have thought about going back to Nigel?

  Cam reached for another serving of meat and slapped Austin on the back. "Good job, man." He glanced at Lazer and shook his head. "Glad we've gotten better at this proposal stuff since your last one. And glad it's over."

  Now this was interesting. I turned to Lazer. "Since when did you propose? Are you and Ashley engaged and I forgot?"

  Jeremy shook his head. "No. Lazer's a-scared of proposing." He made a pouncing motion and mouthed "boo" at Lazer.

  Lazer batted him away.

  "We're talking college," Cam said. "Lazer got it in his head he was in love with a little Dutch foreign exchange student. We dressed up in Roman tunics so we looked like warriors from her favorite game and carried tiki torches so Lazer could propose to Sanne before she was deported to the Netherlands."

  "Deported?" I raised my eyebrows.

  "The semester and her visa were both almost up," Lazer said, good-naturedly taking the ribbing. "And no matter what they say, we looked damn hot in those tunics."

  I covered my mouth to hold in my laughter. "I'm not understanding what the tiki torches had to do with Rome?"

  "No one does," Jeremy said.

  "They were awesome," Lazer said.

  "Blame it on the costume department and our budget. We couldn't find Roman torches." Austin winked. "We would have looked a lot hotter if we'd gone to the tanning booth first. And spent months at the gym beefing up. Skinny white dudes with milk-white legs, not so hot."

  "We didn't have months," Dylan said. "Didn't Lazer only date her a month?"

  The others nodded.

  "Don't hold me in suspense." I looked at the guys for an explanation. "What did she say?"

  "She turned me down," Lazer said matter-of-factly.

  Dylan rolled his eyes and shook his head.

  Jeremy snorted. "That's putting it mildly. We serenaded her from her front yard. She wouldn't come out of her house. She yelled Dutch insults from the window, making her answer pretty clear. 'Idiot' sounds pretty much the same in both languages."

  "Serenaded?" I turned to Lazer. "You were singing?"

  "Badly," he said.

  "We turned around with our tails between our legs," Austin said. "And our heads hung low. Fortunately, no one recognized the four of us. We still had our helmets on." He pointed at Lazer. "He was dumb enough to take his off."

  "How else was she going to recognize me?" Lazer said.

  "Who else would be crazy enough to dress as her favorite video warrior?" Dylan said.

  Lazer ignored his jibe. "Best thing that could have happened to me. And I learned a valuable lesson—unless you're a Highlander"—he eyed Austin—"never propose while wearing a skirt."

  I laughed with them all, not at them. "Knights are much hotter than Romans in tunics." I raised my glass of sparkling juice. "To the round table, Camelot, all of my knights, and, most particularly, to the Highland knight I love with all my being." My voice broke. "Thank you. All of you. I love you all."

  "But me most," Dylan said. "She's always liked me best."

  The drone hovered above, catching us all in this special moment while the photographer captured it from another angle.

  I leaned my head on Austin's shoulder. "Thank you for everything. I've always dreamed of being a princess in Camelot."

  "I know," he said. "I wanted you to be Elinor. And propose to you in Scotland. And honeymoon here in Camelot. There's a beautiful castle converted to a bed and breakfast not far away. But the plans changed."

  "Mm." I nodded, so in love with him. "The best laid plans. Well, this is perfect." I smiled up at him. "And now I know why you wanted this outing filmed. Thank you for that, too. I wanted pictures of my engagement."

  He looked almost embarrassed, but pleased. "I know. I'm glad you liked it. Filming your marriage proposal is a thing now. It seemed somehow fitting for us. After breakfast, we'll get some posed shots. Some romantic ones." He waggled his eyebrows.

  "Do you know everything about me?" I asked.

  He shook his head. "No, but I have a lifetime now to find out."

  Chapter 4

  Austin

  We spent the entire day in Tintagel, mingling with the crowds after the castle opened to the public. The guys eventually got tired of the weight of their chainmail—how did knights of old wear that stuff all day? And to battle? It was amazing anyone had the energy to fight. Men were men in those days. For my buds, it was thrilling at first to be admired for their costumes as knights of the realm. And they had fun showing off their fighting skills for admiring hordes. But eventually they grew tired of being asked directions as if they were park staff. They changed into shorts and blended back into the general populace.

  I was less lucky about blending in. In my kilt, I looked too much like Connor and Jamie. If I'd thought ahead, I would have brought shorts and a T-shirt, too. And maybe a nerdy sun hat to protect my delicate redhead complexion—ha! That would have made me incognito. I blamed all the last-minute proposal preparations for my oversight. I'd done a damn fine job with that, at least. Yeah, pats on the back to me for being a real romantic, if somewhat of a corny one.

  People pointed and whispered, wondering if I was Connor. The bold ones came right up and asked, or asked me if anyone had ever told me how much I looked like him. A surprising number knew who I was. It didn't matter that I wasn't Connor. I was stopped too often to pose with admiring female fans. Fawned over.

  As usual, all the attention I was getting amused Blair. She put up with the interruptions and the competition for my attention with good humor. Now that she wore my ring, what did she have to be jealous about?

  "We could see about buying you a disguise in the gift shop," she teased. "Maybe a plastic helmet to hide your red hair. A pair of knight-visor-shaped sunglasses. Or how about a nice, touristy T-shirt? On me. Something with a nerdy saying, like, My fiancée visited Tintagel and all I got was this shirt. Or, Never judge a knight by the size of his sword."

  "That's just wrong," I said. "I have a fine, long sword."

  She gave me a playful shove, which I blocked with my shoulder. But she carried her bouquet and wore the flowers in her hair all day, looking part flower child, part medieval lady of the castle, my very own Guinevere. And she was the envy of many a little girl who asked her where she got the flowers. The gift shop carried a nice selection of wreaths and crowns, but nothing as fine as what I'd given Blair. And no one looked as lovely. The memory of her walking the cliffs with her coronet of flowers and the breeze rippling her dark hair, laughing and smiling, quick
ly etched itself in my memory. When I died, I hoped it was the last thing that flashed before me before I went. She was that radiant. And she was mine.

  I was the happiest guy on the planet, no contest. So damn happy that I couldn't hold my smile down. I beamed at everyone and everything, even the damn seagulls begging for handouts. And hell, they may as well join in the celebration, too. I tossed them a crust of brown bread. Eat like kings, gulls.

  Grinning that much should have been hugely embarrassing. A guy should be a little cooler than wearing his happiness on his sleeve. I didn't give a damn.

  I held Blair's hand as we wandered around the park, enjoying the feel of her new engagement ring cutting into my hand. Enjoying the feel of her. Relieved the proposal had gone so well and she hadn't laughed at me or thought the whole thing was corny. Would she have preferred my Scottish proposal? Someday I'd regale her with tales of what I'd originally planned.

  I was grateful to Lazer for helping me pull this off. I'd told him what I wanted and he'd helped me get it. He'd assisted me in making everything perfect. After Lazer's ill-fated first marriage proposal, none of us wanted a repeat. If we were honest, that botched proposal had scarred all of us and made us just a bit more apprehensive than the average guy about asking a woman to marry us.

  What Lazer will never tell you, or anyone, about his college marriage proposal is the way he got totally plastered and cried afterward. Yeah, that in itself, seeing Lazer cry, was disturbing. I was the one with him when he passed out and realized this was something more than mere drunkenness. I was the one who rushed him to the hospital just in time and saved him from alcohol poisoning. While Lazer was always the cooler and more charming of us, he never forgot who his true friends were. Part of all this show and the luxury of the yacht was to make the point that he, that none of us, were the nerdy, unsophisticated geeks we were in college. Another part was repaying a debt he said he could never repay.

  He still had more money than the rest of us could ever dream of having. He'd wanted to pay for the proposal breakfast. I'd insisted it was my responsibility and my pleasure. Lazer was right—it felt good for the guys and me to have our own money. He'd been a good friend to help us get here.

  Blair and I explored the caves, not exactly alone, but away from the guys and the intruding fans. I caught her as she slipped on some wet stones and fell into my arms laughing.

  She wrapped her arms around me and looked up. "You were feeling me out last night, weren't you?"

  "I was certainly feeling you up."

  "I'm not letting you off the hook that easily." She kissed me quickly. "You were fishing."

  I nodded. "Can you blame me?"

  She shook her head. "No. I can't. Not at all, given the circumstances." She paused, looking thoughtful. "When?"

  "When what?" I wasn't trying to be obtuse, but this was a bit of a non sequitur.

  "Don't be sly," she said. "When were you thinking we should get married?"

  "You want to set a date already?" I was game. Damn was I game. The sooner I married her, the better. But I trod carefully.

  She laughed. "Why not?"

  "Let me get my phone out of my sporran and I'll check my calendar. See when I have enough free time for a wedding and a honeymoon."

  She took me by the shoulders. "Aren't you a man of leisure now that you've sold the app and quit your job?"

  I grinned.

  "How about we narrow it down in general terms first?" she said.

  "All right." I paused, wondering what would please her most. "When we get married depends, or so I've heard, on when we can get a venue and how long you need to plan a wedding."

  "I need?"

  I nodded, trying to be obliging and supportive.

  "Oh, I get it. Planning the wedding is my responsibility, is it?" She sighed. "Well, if that's the case, you know I don't give a damn about a big wedding. Beth is all the family I have. We don't need a venue and a big production." She bent her head and played with the buttons of my shirt. "I'd marry you at the courthouse tomorrow if we were in Seattle."

  "You'd have to wait at least three days, assuming we'd applied for a license today."

  She raised her eyebrows. "Someone's been researching marriage laws."

  "I like to be prepared."

  "Back to my question—when?" she said.

  "Whenever you want. I'm here to marry you at your command."

  "You aren't going to commit first, are you?"

  "I'm being diplomatic," I said. "Now that I've proposed, the ball is in your court. The wedding—large or small—is the bride's deal. I'm just along for the ride as half of a cake topper and necessary bridal accessory, but a silent partner."

  "You're not getting off so easily," she said, and paused. "Gretna Green, Scotland."

  My heart raced. Was she saying what I thought she was saying?

  "It's the Vegas of the UK. Only with a longer lead time. If we get right on it, we can be married in twenty-nine days before the anvil at the famous blacksmith shop. That's the time it takes the registrar to process our application." She looked at me seriously.

  "Someone's been studying her UK marriage laws," I teased, expecting her to back away from what she was intimating.

  She held my gaze. "Need more time than less than a month?"

  "You're not kidding?" My heart was in my throat. "You want to get married before we leave Scotland? On this trip?"

  "Are you serious? The man who just proposed in a chapel. I half expected a preacher to pop up right there and perform the ceremony."

  "A pop-up preacher. That's rich."

  "And original," she said. "You might have thought of it."

  "It's a bit presumptuous, isn't it?"

  She shrugged. "Not presumptuous—impulsive. I like impulsive."

  "You would have married me on the spot?"

  "Don't look so incredulous. If it had been legal, yes." She laughed. "In fact, I did marry you, didn't I? In medieval terms." She nodded. "Marry before we leave Scotland! Why not? It seems smarter and more convenient than flying back over later."

  Why not indeed?

  "What are we waiting for, anyway? Why waste another minute more than we have to?" She tilted her head. "Though it took me a while to realize it and admit to it, I fell in love with you almost the moment I saw you. No one can argue that we connected immediately."

  "You fell for me only because I was wounded. Being injured is better for picking up chicks than carrying around a puppy or a baby. Women love nursing—"

  "Doctoring," she corrected.

  "—injured dudes."

  She laughed.

  "Love at first sight." I cocked my head like Connor. "That's dangerous business, lass. Can we trust our instincts?"

  "I've lived with myself long enough to know my mind and trust my heart. And, if anything, this year has taught me that life is unpredictable. So unpredictable. Who knows what future holds? Right now, Beth is well and I'm myself again."

  She paused. "Twenty-nine days will be near the end of our trip. That should give Beth enough time to receive her new passport and fly over to join us. The guys and Lazer are already here."

  "You want the guys hanging around for twenty-nine days?"

  "I thought that was the plan," she said. "Though I grant you, Lazer is probably too busy to spend that long here. He'll just have to fly back. Better one person is inconvenienced than many. You wanted to propose in Scotland. Let's get married there instead. What more could we want?"

  "Sounds perfect to me." I lifted her up and swung her around and around, watching her laugh. "I love you, doc."

  "I love you too." She kissed me.

  "You're not giving me much time to plan a honeymoon," I said.

  "Marrying you is all the honeymoon I need."

  "If that's what you want—"

  "It is," she said, breathless. "It's all I want."

  I'd only booked the photographer for the morning. There was only so much of being followed around by a stranger snapping ph
otos that either of us could take. But Blair insisted we pose with the statue of King Arthur before we left. Cam snapped the picture. We finally boarded the boat back to the yacht just after the park closed, exhausted and happy. I carried Blair through the water to the waiting boat. She was light and beautiful in my arms.

  She looped her arms around my neck. "I could get used to this." She leaned into me.

  Although she didn't say it, I could see she was tired. "Get used to it if you like, Blair. I'll carry you anywhere." I meant it.

  Back at the yacht, we enjoyed a leisurely, luxurious meal. The guys toasted our engagement. Blair and I sneaked off to the media room. We called Beth, waking her early, and gave her the good news. She was ecstatic, saying she'd always hoped for another seamstress in the family. Yes, I can sew with the best of them. I reminded her that men were tailors.

  She had good news—the passport office said her passport was in the mail. She'd have it within days. She was enthusiastic about our plans to marry within a month and ready to book her ticket. She promised to scan and email us Blair's birth certificate.

  We submitted our online marriage application. The countdown began. After all the excitement, Blair was exhausted. She said goodnight to the guys on the sundeck and retired early. I tucked her into bed.

  "This has been the best day of my life." She snuggled into the plush comfort of the bed, with the stars sparkling overhead through the skylight porthole. Her crown of flowers sat on the nightstand, perfuming the room. "Thank you."

  I kissed her. "This is just the start of many best days to come."

  She raised an eyebrow. "What could be better than today?"

  "Oh, I don't know. Twenty-nine days from now. Our wedding day. The births of our children—"

  She tensed, just perceptibly. "Are we having children?" She looked beautiful with her hair flowing over the pillow.

  "Dozens." I brushed her hair off her forehead. "Don't you remember?" I gave a mock look of shock. "We talked about it. The first boy will be named after my cantankerous granda, as is tradition. The second—"