Eight
The monkey was giving Raleigh some serious side eye. It sat upon a stone wall, several feet away from its brethren, not looking particularly threatening, but he’d heard stories of the roving bands of Barbary macaques occasionally attacking unsuspecting tourists, so he kept his distance.
Yeah, I feel you, buddy. I think it’s surreal, too.
He was getting married tomorrow.
Rather than going through the hassle of having him request a marriage visa in Scotland, they’d elected to fly to Gibraltar, which didn’t require one for Americans. Hamish and Connor had come along as their two required witnesses. All the necessary paperwork had been filed with the registry office this morning. Hamish had taken care of all the other details, opting for a no-frills civil ceremony, which made sense,
