Becoming the Whiskey Princess
Page 34
Soon the room is full of our laughter, and I can’t believe this is my life now. It used to be only my mom and dad and me, and while it was always loud and fun in my home, I never felt like I do at this particular moment. I’m looking around at the faces of my family. My aunt, my uncle, and cousin. Kane who has wiggled his way into my heart and then my love—my Declan. I’m complete. It’s weird, but it also makes me feel like I am doing everything my mother wanted me to do. She wanted me to live and I’m doing that.
I want Michael Maclaster to work for me.
He is very clever when it comes to flavors and ways of brewing whiskey. I always knew that he had worked for Jameson, but I didn’t realize how close he was to the inner workings of the distillery. Hearing him talk about it is like talking to my grandda, and it’s refreshing. I’m thoroughly enjoying it and want nothing more to bring him on to my team, but as soon as I bring that up, he shoots me down.
“Ah, Declan, I’m done with that.”
“Never,” I try, but he is already shaking his head.
“No, I am. With Fiona moving out, it gives me and Shelia time to ourselves. I can’t get a job now.”
Leaning toward him, I say, “I’ll pay ya whatever ya like.”
He smirks at me as he shakes his head. “Declan, lad, when you marry Amberlyn, you’ll learn very quickly that being wealthy is having that girl look at ya and smile. I don’t need money; I need the time back that I lost with Sheila ’cause I didn’t know then what I know now.” He leans back in his chair, taking a shot of his whiskey before setting me and then Kane with a look. “Listen to this old man, lads. Don’t work yerselfs to death ’cause at the end of the day, she’ll love ya no matter what.”
I want to convince him otherwise, but I can see in his eyes it’s no use. As I climb the stairs to Amberlyn’s room, his words play over and over in my head. I’ve been so giddy to start working hard to make O’Callaghan’s a success on my own, but maybe that’s wrong of me. I already work too much as it is and hardly get to see my love. I could see the regret in Mr. Maclaster’s eyes for the years he spent away from his daughter and wife, and I just can’t do that.
I have to be mindful.
Amberlyn comes before my work.
No matter what.
Reaching Amberlyn’s room, I push open the door to find her on her bed. Her knees are brought up to her chest with a book on her knees. She has changed since she isn’t wearing the dress any longer, only a pair of sweats and a T-shirt. Her hair is piled on her head and she is sleepy-sexy. I want to lie down next to her, nuzzle my nose into her neck, and fall asleep with her breath on my cheek. This is my bride. My life.
Looking up at me, she smiles. “Come here.”
I come to her without question, crawling into bed with her. She cuddles into my chest and opens the book along our legs. The first thing I see is a small Amberlyn. I know it’s her from first glance. Her cherub cheeks and bright aquamarine eyes. She was as stunning as a child as she is now.
“This is me at nine.”
I smile. “Gorgeous, of course.”
Turning the page, it’s her again with who I presume is her da. She has his eyes, his lips, and the shape of his face. He was a happy man from what I can see. His arms are tight around Amberlyn’s small frame, grinning at the camera. I can almost hear the laughter. On the opposite page is one of her, her da, and her ma. I thought she looked like her da, but she is her ma made over. Simply stunning.
“This is my mom and dad.”
“You look very happy.”
“I was,” she answers and slowly she turns the page. Each picture is her with her parents at various spots, their home, on vacation, and at sporting events. They were happy, very happy. When she pauses at one picture, her fingers come along the face of her da and she sucks in a deep breath. They are both wearing Mickey Mouse shirts, standing outside of a gate. “This was three days before he died. I was twelve.”
“Where were you guys?”
“Disney World,” she answers, smiling. “We left that day; it was the most magical trip of my life. We had so much fun. My mom always said we’d go back, but we never did. I think it hurt her too much.”
Snaking my arm around her, I kiss her temple. “We’ll go, yes? Me and you, fly to the States and do it again.”
She glances up at me, her eyes watering a bit as her bottom lip wobbles. “Really?”
“Yeah, for sure. Wanna go before or after the wedding?”
“Probably after. We have so much before.”
“Sure, but I don’t care. You tell me and we will go.”
She cuddles into me and my heart aches in my chest. I want her to be happy. I want to fill the hole she has in her, and I pray that I am doing enough to help. To make this life one she is proud of. One her parents would be proud of.
“I love you, Declan.”
“I love you,” I whisper as she turns the page again. We don’t say anything as she slides each page over, and I watch as her ma gets skinner and skinner. When the last picture appears, one of her mother lying in a bed with a scarf around her head, her face sunken in and her eyes dull in color, I have to swallow back my own tears. I can feel them falling from Amberlyn’s sweet face, but I know I have to be strong for her.
“She died that night,” she says softly, biting her lip. “I knew it was going to happen. I felt it in my heart. I kissed her over and over again, telling her how much I loved her, and she kept saying it back to me. She didn’t want to leave; I know she didn’t.”
“Who would ever want to leave you, Amberlyn?” I ask. “I couldn’t fathom it. I couldn’t imagine my life without your love, and I know that it had to be so hard for your ma and your da. But I know they are watching and they are so fuckin’ proud, mo stór. So proud.”
Burying her face into my neck, she cries. Her whole body shakes against me as she sobs for the death of her parents. I place the book beside us and hold her, allowing her to get it all out. I knew before I even realized she had my heart that there would be days like this. When she would lose it because of the loss she has suffered. I hate that she is in so much pain, that her parents aren’t here to watch her grow and live her life. If I could, I’d give it all back. Meeting her, loving her, and ultimately being allowed to marry her if only she could have her ma and da back, or hell, just her ma. I know I’d find her. I would because she was made for me. We were made to be together. No other way, just us.
I want Michael Maclaster to work for me.
He is very clever when it comes to flavors and ways of brewing whiskey. I always knew that he had worked for Jameson, but I didn’t realize how close he was to the inner workings of the distillery. Hearing him talk about it is like talking to my grandda, and it’s refreshing. I’m thoroughly enjoying it and want nothing more to bring him on to my team, but as soon as I bring that up, he shoots me down.
“Ah, Declan, I’m done with that.”
“Never,” I try, but he is already shaking his head.
“No, I am. With Fiona moving out, it gives me and Shelia time to ourselves. I can’t get a job now.”
Leaning toward him, I say, “I’ll pay ya whatever ya like.”
He smirks at me as he shakes his head. “Declan, lad, when you marry Amberlyn, you’ll learn very quickly that being wealthy is having that girl look at ya and smile. I don’t need money; I need the time back that I lost with Sheila ’cause I didn’t know then what I know now.” He leans back in his chair, taking a shot of his whiskey before setting me and then Kane with a look. “Listen to this old man, lads. Don’t work yerselfs to death ’cause at the end of the day, she’ll love ya no matter what.”
I want to convince him otherwise, but I can see in his eyes it’s no use. As I climb the stairs to Amberlyn’s room, his words play over and over in my head. I’ve been so giddy to start working hard to make O’Callaghan’s a success on my own, but maybe that’s wrong of me. I already work too much as it is and hardly get to see my love. I could see the regret in Mr. Maclaster’s eyes for the years he spent away from his daughter and wife, and I just can’t do that.
I have to be mindful.
Amberlyn comes before my work.
No matter what.
Reaching Amberlyn’s room, I push open the door to find her on her bed. Her knees are brought up to her chest with a book on her knees. She has changed since she isn’t wearing the dress any longer, only a pair of sweats and a T-shirt. Her hair is piled on her head and she is sleepy-sexy. I want to lie down next to her, nuzzle my nose into her neck, and fall asleep with her breath on my cheek. This is my bride. My life.
Looking up at me, she smiles. “Come here.”
I come to her without question, crawling into bed with her. She cuddles into my chest and opens the book along our legs. The first thing I see is a small Amberlyn. I know it’s her from first glance. Her cherub cheeks and bright aquamarine eyes. She was as stunning as a child as she is now.
“This is me at nine.”
I smile. “Gorgeous, of course.”
Turning the page, it’s her again with who I presume is her da. She has his eyes, his lips, and the shape of his face. He was a happy man from what I can see. His arms are tight around Amberlyn’s small frame, grinning at the camera. I can almost hear the laughter. On the opposite page is one of her, her da, and her ma. I thought she looked like her da, but she is her ma made over. Simply stunning.
“This is my mom and dad.”
“You look very happy.”
“I was,” she answers and slowly she turns the page. Each picture is her with her parents at various spots, their home, on vacation, and at sporting events. They were happy, very happy. When she pauses at one picture, her fingers come along the face of her da and she sucks in a deep breath. They are both wearing Mickey Mouse shirts, standing outside of a gate. “This was three days before he died. I was twelve.”
“Where were you guys?”
“Disney World,” she answers, smiling. “We left that day; it was the most magical trip of my life. We had so much fun. My mom always said we’d go back, but we never did. I think it hurt her too much.”
Snaking my arm around her, I kiss her temple. “We’ll go, yes? Me and you, fly to the States and do it again.”
She glances up at me, her eyes watering a bit as her bottom lip wobbles. “Really?”
“Yeah, for sure. Wanna go before or after the wedding?”
“Probably after. We have so much before.”
“Sure, but I don’t care. You tell me and we will go.”
She cuddles into me and my heart aches in my chest. I want her to be happy. I want to fill the hole she has in her, and I pray that I am doing enough to help. To make this life one she is proud of. One her parents would be proud of.
“I love you, Declan.”
“I love you,” I whisper as she turns the page again. We don’t say anything as she slides each page over, and I watch as her ma gets skinner and skinner. When the last picture appears, one of her mother lying in a bed with a scarf around her head, her face sunken in and her eyes dull in color, I have to swallow back my own tears. I can feel them falling from Amberlyn’s sweet face, but I know I have to be strong for her.
“She died that night,” she says softly, biting her lip. “I knew it was going to happen. I felt it in my heart. I kissed her over and over again, telling her how much I loved her, and she kept saying it back to me. She didn’t want to leave; I know she didn’t.”
“Who would ever want to leave you, Amberlyn?” I ask. “I couldn’t fathom it. I couldn’t imagine my life without your love, and I know that it had to be so hard for your ma and your da. But I know they are watching and they are so fuckin’ proud, mo stór. So proud.”
Burying her face into my neck, she cries. Her whole body shakes against me as she sobs for the death of her parents. I place the book beside us and hold her, allowing her to get it all out. I knew before I even realized she had my heart that there would be days like this. When she would lose it because of the loss she has suffered. I hate that she is in so much pain, that her parents aren’t here to watch her grow and live her life. If I could, I’d give it all back. Meeting her, loving her, and ultimately being allowed to marry her if only she could have her ma and da back, or hell, just her ma. I know I’d find her. I would because she was made for me. We were made to be together. No other way, just us.
