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Becoming the Whiskey Princess

Page 40

   


I grin at her, holding her face in my hands. “You’re fuckin’ right.”
Her face reddens a bit as she holds my gaze. “You are my first and my last. I like that.”
“Me too,” I agree, and I can’t express how much I actually do like that. There is something special about my being her one and only. Knowing that I’ll be the only one who’s ever been in her body, to make her come, and have my name fall from her swollen lips. She is completely and utterly mine, on every single level there is. There is something very frightening about that too. Will I be enough? When she starts to dust her lips along my jaw, she pulls back, biting her lip before she grins at me.
“Wanna go take a shower, maybe we can start something in there? I really want you.”
I like the way she thinks and even more that she wants more of me. The question from before quickly evaporates from my brain. I have nothing to worry about; I am enough for her. Dropping my lips to hers, I hold her gaze. I’m not saying I want to kiss her, because I always do, but I want her to see in my eyes how much I love her. Her sexy grin falls, replaced with a sweet one as her fingers tangle in my hair. Our love is suffocating, but I’ll die a happy man if she is the last I’ll see.
She’s waiting for an answer, and I have no problem doing what she asks. Kissing her quickly, I grin before saying, “Yeah, let’s go.”
For the last two weeks, the only time we’ve gotten out of bed is when we have to go to work. I love it. I do. Being wrapped in Declan’s arms, completely lost in the love he provides me with is just amazing, really, but something is bothering me.
I don’t feel like we are adults.
I feel like we should be making a home for us. Making dinner—it’s delivered at six every night or we go eat with his parents, doing laundry—again, done for me and delivered by noon the next day, and cleaning—done for me. I can’t decorate because the house is already decorated! The only thing I do around here is have sex, read, or watch TV with my fiancé. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s great, but I kinda feel as if we are kids, hiding out in his room from his parents.
But we can’t even hide well.
I swear that Mrs. O’Callaghan has a book with all the reasons to come to talk to me and Declan. Let it be a subject that deals with the wedding, the distillery, tea time, or anything that comes to mind, she is knocking on our door. It’s insane and is honestly driving me up the wall. What bothers me the most is that Declan seems to be completely satisfied with everything. I know that he has lived his whole life only working when it comes to the distillery, but I’ve worked for everything I’ve wanted my whole life, and I feel like I’m a blob. Living off him almost.
It’s a scary feeling, and every time I want to bring it up to Declan, something comes up or his mom knocks on the damn door!
And right on cue, there is a knock on the door as I pull my blouse on, buttoning the top button. I flash him a dark look and he shrugs.
“Yeah?”
The door opens and she comes in, a little grin on her face. “Just checking to see if yous were ready to go.”
We are going to an elementary school today to give book bags full of supplies for all one hundred kids. I am superexcited about it, but I kinda wish it were only Declan and me going.
“Yeah, Ma, we are getting ready now. Be down in a few.”
“Okay!” she says as she flutters away, shutting the door behind her. Looking over at Declan, I see he’s laughing quietly.
“It isn’t funny,” I snap at him, and he smiles.
“I know but still. You’re cute with that little cross face of yours.”
“Watch out, buddy, before it’s directed at you,” I warn, and he shakes his head, still chuckling.
“I just don’t get it. She finds any reason to come up here. I think she is realizing that I’ve grown up, or at least that’s what my da says. She doesn’t do this shite to Lena.”
I didn’t think of it that way, and I can understand the realization of your son being a man, but still, it’s annoying. “That’s fine and dandy but, Declan, we are hardly ever alone! It’s driving me up the wall,” I say, way sharper than I intended.
His brows come in as his hands go to his khaki-clad waist. “What would you have me do, then? Ask her not to come up here?”
“That would be a start. Or maybe, get our own place. I just don’t—”
And another knock comes at the fucking door!
Clamping my mouth shut, I glare as he reaches for the door. “Ma?”
“Sorry, I forgot to tell you to make sure you wear blue with your O’Callaghan pin. Oh! You have it on. Here is Amberlyn’s. She may not be an O’Callaghan officially, but I feel she is.”
I roll my eyes. I want to believe this woman is genuine, but come on. She’s probably sitting outside the door, snickering that we are fighting.
“Thanks, Ma, we will be down in a few,” he says quickly before shutting the door and then looking back at me. Coming toward me, he reaches out with one arm, snaking it around me to pull me to him. As he looks deep into my eyes, all my anger washes away as his mouth pulls up at one side. “Don’t be upset with me.”
“I’m not,” I say, fingering the lapel of his shirt. “I just don’t feel like we are adults. Everything is done for us.”
He chuckles. “Because that’s my life, Amberlyn. You’ve worked most of your life for what you’ve wanted. You’ve been through some hard stuff. Embrace this. It’s your life now. People are paid to make sure we are taken care of so we can focus on each other. What more could you ask for?”
“To cook my own dinner, maybe? Or do my own laundry? I feel like a blob, Declan!”
He smiles, letting me go to pin the crest of his family on my shirt. It’s a white pin with an armored helmet with green flourish coming out of it and a stallion underneath it. I don’t know why, but the butterflies in my gut go crazy as he runs his finger along the pin before meeting my regard. “You’re not a blob, Amberlyn, you’re an O’Callaghan. My soon-to-be wife. This is how our life is. We don’t do those things you mentioned; we have people who do and make good money doing it. For the time being, all you have to worry about is loving me, going to school, and working at the pub. After we get married, I’m sure you’ll fall right into place.”