“Let’s do this, shall we?” The four of us walk down the stairs to the little ATV that’s waiting to give us a ride. When we get there, we’re laughing from how bumpy the ride was. Maeve, Maggie, and Fiona all give me hugs before they go find their seats.

“Thank you for walking me down the aisle.” I kiss Tom on the cheek and am delighted when he blushes.

“It’s an honor and a privilege, Izzy, my girl. Now, are you sure this is what you want to do? My Keegan is a fine boy, but he’s a stubborn one, as well.”

“Well, I can be stubborn myself. Yes, of course, this is what I want.”

“Good.” The music starts, and he pats my hand after I loop it through his arm.

As far as the weather goes, today was the best day. It’s partly cloudy with just the touch of a light breeze—and a one hundred percent chance of love.

As I walk down the aisle, I don’t see all of our closest friends and family around us, including the entire Montgomery family and their children. I don’t see the beautiful flowers and the arbor we managed to set up in record time. I don’t even hear the rush of the ocean behind us.

I only have eyes for one man.

Keegan’s eyes latch on to mine, and then they grow misty as he takes me in from head to toe. Every woman wants her groom to look at her just like this on their wedding day, and I’m not disappointed.

This, right here, is what I deserve. It’s what I need. And I didn’t find it in a stuffy church in Salem, Oregon, but rather on a little island in the Pacific Ocean with a handsome, wonderful Irishman.

“Okay, everybody, gather around! Single ladies!” I call out to all of the girls, and they form a half-circle behind me.

“Maeve, get a move on,” Maggie says, gesturing to her sister.

“What are we doing?” Maeve asks.

“Okay, get ready,” I say as I spin and then toss a smaller version of my bouquet over my shoulder. When I turn around again, I see that Maeve caught it.

“What in the hell?” she demands. “No. I didn’t sign up for this.”

“You came over here of your own free will,” Maggie says.

“I thought we were getting more cake. I don’t want this. I’m not getting married next. Here, Mary Margaret, you take it.”

“Nope, you caught it.”

Maeve turns to me. “Catch!”

She tosses it back to me, but I just laugh and immediately throw it back to her. “It’s yours now, whether you like it or not.”

“Well, shit.”