Page 72 of Last Wish Wedding

Mac helped Noah into the back seat of the Range Rover, buckling him in with careful attention while Kelsey settled beside her son. She couldn’t bear to be separated from him by even the width of a car seat.

As Mac pulled away from the Prescott estate, Noah’s small fingers found Kelsey’s, intertwining with desperate need. “Mom,” he whispered, “I was really scared.”

“I know, baby,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to his temple. “I was scared too. But I never stopped trying to get you back. Not for one minute.”

Noah leaned against her, some of the tension visibly draining from his small frame. “They said you were too busy with Mac to take care of me anymore.”

Anger flashed through Kelsey, white-hot and consuming, but she tamped it down. “That’s not true, sweet pea. You are the most important person in my life. Always.”

In the driver’s seat, Mac was quiet. But his eyes met Kelsey’s in the rearview mirror, steady and supportive.

“Mom?” Noah’s voice was still small but also curious now. “Why did Uncle Jason say that about you and Mac? About you getting married?”

Kelsey took a deep breath, remembering their conversation from that morning. Honesty at a level he could understand.

“That’s something we wanted to talk to you about, honey,” she said gently. “Mac and I did get married yesterday. We care about each other very much, and we both care about you.”

Noah’s brow furrowed as he processed this information. “Like, married married? With rings and everything?”

“Yes,” Kelsey confirmed, showing him her hand with the gold band. “With rings and everything.”

Noah looked toward the front seat, where Mac’s left hand was visible on the steering wheel and his own wedding band caught the light. “So… is Mac my dad now?”

Mac glanced in the rearview mirror again, his expression carefully neutral, waiting for Kelsey’s lead.

“Mac is my husband,” Kelsey explained, choosing her words carefully. “And if you’re okay with it, he’d like to be a part of our family. We can talk more about what that means when we get home.”

Noah’s seven-year-old mind visibly worked through the implications. “Does this mean we’re moving to Mac’s big house? The one with the pool?”

A surprised laugh escaped Kelsey, and the tension broke slightly. “We haven’t figured out all those details yet, sweetie. But yes, if you want to.”

“Okay.” Noah seemed satisfied with this answer for now. He leaned more heavily against Kelsey, fatigue evident in the droop of his shoulders. “I’m really tired, Mom.”

“Then rest, baby.” She stroked his hair and felt him relax against her. “We’ve got a long drive ahead. When you wake up, we’ll be closer to home.”

Noah’s eyes fluttered closed, the emotional toll of the past days finally catching up to him. As his breathing deepened into sleep, Kelsey continued to stroke his hair. She reassured herself with each rise and fall of his chest that he was here, he was safe, he was coming home.

Mac’s eyes found hers again in the mirror, a silent question in their depths. She nodded, offering a small, genuine smile. They’d done it. The first, most crucial step was complete.

One step at a time, she reminded herself, watching the city give way to highway. They were a family now. Unconventional, unexpected, and formed in the crucible of crisis. But a family nonetheless.

And for today, that was enough.

Chapter 22

Mac steered the Range Rover down the familiar coastal road leading to Kelsey’s cottage, hyper-aware of the two passengers who had dozed off in the back seat. Noah’s head rested against his mother’s shoulder, their matching honey-brown hair mingling where they leaned together. The boy had finally crashed from the adrenaline and fear of the past days about an hour into the drive.

The late afternoon sun glared through the windshield as Mac parked on the gravel drive. He turned off the engine, and the resulting sudden silence was too loud. For a moment, he simply sat and watched in the rearview mirror as Kelsey gently roused Noah.

“We’re home, sweet pea,” she murmured. Her voice contained a tenderness he’d never experienced from anyone.

Noah’s eyes fluttered open, momentarily confused before recognition flooded his features. “Home,” he said.

Mac stepped out and opened the rear door, reaching for Noah’s bags. “I’ll get the bags, buddy.”

Noah nodded, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he clambered out. “Thanks, Mac.” The simple phrase, so casually offered, caught Mac off guard. As if the boy had always expected Mac to be there to handle, handling such mundane tasks.

Inside, the cottage felt simultaneously welcoming and strange, familiar from his previous visits yet different now that he entered as Kelsey’s husband rather than her… whatever he’d been before. Friend? Neighbor?