Becoming the Whiskey Princess
Page 12

But then I notice the tension in his jaw. My brows come together as I ask, “What’s wrong?”
He smiles as he shakes his head. “Know me too well, ya think?”
“I don’t think, I know.”
Clearing his throat, he says, “Yeah, I guess ya do.” Squeezing my hand, he glances at me for a moment before looking back at the road. “I don’t know how I feel about this. I don’t trust my da and ma.”
I scoff. “What do you mean? We are going to dinner.”
“Yeah, but I feel like it’s gonna be a pain.”
“Anything you don’t want to do is a pain,” I supply and he laughs.
“True, but promise me something,” he says softly, meeting my gaze. “You feel uncomfortable, at any time, you tell me, yeah?”
I nod. “Of course.”
“Good,” he says with a nod, bringing my hand up to his mouth to kiss softly. “I love you.”
“I love you,” I say automatically as my stomach does a little flip-flop. There is something about the way he tells me he loves me that hits me in the gut every time. It’s all sexy and rough and Irish. And I know it’s all for me. As I watch him work his lip as he drives, I hate that he is nervous about going to dinner with his family. It reminds me of when we were going to the ball. Hm. That reminds me. “It’s been a week.”
His brows come in. “Sure, yeah? So?”
“You said we would talk about everything when a week was up. It’s actually been a week and a half.”
He chuckles. “Sweetheart, let’s get through dinner.”
I smile. “So you don’t want to talk about having sex.”
I’m surprised we don’t crash the way he jerks the car to the side before righting the steering wheel and then looking at me. “Jaysus, Amberlyn! Run me off the road, will ya?”
I giggle. “Just asking.”
“That’s not something you ask, though; you let it happen,” he says, kissing the back of my hand. “Give it time.”
“We were gonna have sex the night I got shot,” I point out and he closes his eyes.
“You’re killin’ me, Amberlyn. Shh, don’t talk about it. I won’t make it through dinner with my family if ya keep it up,” he practically begs and I giggle.
“So saying that I want you very, very badly is frowned upon until a moment where we aren’t going to dinner with your family?”
His eyes drift shut as he nods his head, his fingers squeezing mine. “You like torturing me, yeah?”
I smile. “Yeah, I do.”
It’s just so easy.
“You look well, Amberlyn. That’s very good.”
I look up and smile across the table at Mr. O’Callaghan. Declan’s mother and Lena smile fondly at me while her fiancé, Micah, just looks at me. He is very proper. Doesn’t really talk much, but he is gorgeous. He’d have to be to be with someone like Lena. She is stunning. Tall as a model and a body like one too. The dress she wears puts mine to shame. It sparkles like a mirror ball and is short, showing off her beautiful long legs. Micah doesn’t take his eyes off her much, and I don’t blame him. I feel a little self-conscious around her. If Declan didn’t look at me like I was the best looking piece of pie in the world, I’d probably leave.
Thankfully, he does though.
“Thank you,” I say, tearing my gaze away from Micah and on to Mr. O’Callaghan. “I feel great.”
“That’s grand, Amberlyn, we’ve all been so worried,” Mrs. O’Callaghan says.
“Sorry for that,” I say because I have no clue what else to say.
“No, not at all. We owe you everything for protecting Declan the way you did,” she says softly, squeezing Declan’s arm. He sends her a smile before glancing at me with a grin. Good God, he is sexy. Heat burns throughout me. While it is fun to torture him with my need, it’s just that; I crave him. I want to feel his naked body against mine. I want touch my lips to his body, taste him, and have the most unbelievable connection with him. I need it. I need him.
“You’re flushed. Are you okay?”
I glance over at him as my skin burns with more color. “Yes, fine. It’s hot in here.”
He chuckles as Lena says, “I love your accent. It’s so different from ours. It’s so funny that we are both marrying non-Irish folks, Dec! Poor kids of ours won’t know who to sound like.”
Declan laughs as he nods. “I hope they all sound like Amberlyn. That would be a blessing, yeah.”
I smile as I lean into him and Lena giggles. “Such a softy he is. Wish ya talked to me like that, Micah.”
Micah scoffs to that as he shakes his head. “Like I don’t. You know I do.”
His voice is very English. He’s from London from my understanding. They met when she went there on a holiday with her grandmother. Lena’s laughter fills the room as she nods her head.
“I do,” she says with a wink, and you can just see their love coming off them in waves. I wonder if it looks that way for Declan and me.
“When are you two getting married?” I ask and Lena smiles.
“May, next year. We want to wait till his mother gets back from Africa. She is doing missionary work,” Lena informs me and I smile.
“That’s amazing.”
“Yeah, she’s a doctor. I’m to go over this November to help build some house. Trying to talk Lena into going with me.”
Lena laughs as Declan scoffs. “She wouldn’t last an hour and you know it.”
Micah smiles as he looks over at her. “Yeah, she wouldn’t, but it’s gonna be hard being away from her.”
“I might try,” Lena announces, but that has everyone at the table laughing. “Ah! Whatever.”
“You know you need your hair and makeup done, and I doubt that your designer will come to Africa to design yer dresses,” Declan says, pointing his fork at her. “And I’m pretty sure they don’t have air conditioning.”
“Oh, off with ya.” She sneers back at him with a wave of her hand. “I don’t need that stuff.”
“Sure,” Declan laughs and I smile at the family banter. Fiona and I can be the same way.
“Speaking of Marc, Amberlyn, we will need to get you in with him. Have him design you some clothes. He won’t have time to do your wedding gown, but he’ll have your wardrobe done for after the wedding,” Mrs. O’Callaghan says.