Page 212 of Three Irish Kings

And then it’s Liam’s turn.

On his finger, she slides a platinum band with subtle geometric edges and a stunning color-changing garnet that mirrors her hazel eyes, shifting from golden brown to deep forest green as the light hits from multiple angles. The garnet is flanked by small sapphires that echo his own eyes.

He can’t take his eyes off it until she steps back, and then his eyes are glued to her.

“I now pronounce you men and wife. You may all kiss the bride,” Felipe says.

Isla leans in to kiss me first, making my heart race as she sticks her tongue in my mouth. I have to focus to keep from getting an erection in front of God and everybody.

I tell myself not to watch her kiss my best friends, but we’re all family now, and jealousy is something Isla’s always willing to deal with in the bedroom.

She leans up on her tiptoes to kiss Cillian, and he grabs the back of her head, making it more passionate.

I would have never thought of him as the type to like public displays, but in Italy, with Ryan and Isla, he’s a different man.

Then Liam, almost chaste, and he looks down at her like she’s the only person in the world, like the two of them are in some bubble the rest of us can’t understand.

Sure, I’m still jealous, but it feels good, too, seeing them happy.

Cillian and Liam deserve happiness too. We all do.

It doesn’t get any better than this.