“Sounds like a plan,” I say as I put my cup down and start with the bar patrons. I like the way we work together. We have a system, and it works for us. She always says that it is easy now but when we both start school again, it’s going to be tough since we’ll be tired all the time. I’m not looking forward to it. I thought about saying I didn’t want to work, but I would feel like an ass not working for my keep. So, I decided I would try it out, see what happens. I still have most of the money my mom had out for me, plus her life insurance. I don’t like to touch it, though. I worry about my school and paying for that, so I mainly live off my tips.
I make my rounds, picking up pints and cups, refilling them and talking to my patrons the best I can. Everyone is just so happy and in return, it makes me happy. I joke with everyone as they tease me for being a Yank, and I even flirt some with some of my older regulars. It’s innocent and doesn’t make me nervous the way it does with the younger guys. They don’t care, they only want the entertainment, but younger guys actually want attention and that freaks me out. I’ve been getting better though. The night before I actually talked to a college fella that stayed until close to flirt with me. He was sweet, promised to be in tonight, but I doubt he will. Fiona says he has a girlfriend, and I scolded her for not telling me earlier. She claimed it was because she wanted me to practice, but I wish she hadn’t. I don’t like flirting with guys who have girlfriends. I wouldn’t want someone doing that to my guy.
When I round the bar to refill a pint, the pub falls silent. Looking up to see what is wrong, I see that everyone is staring at Kane and then I see him. Declan O’Callaghan. He is visibly uncomfortable, but that isn’t what has me staring at him like the rest of the bar. No, it’s his eyes. This close, I can tell they are ice blue, and they are breathlessly beautiful. Unlike the roll-out-of-bed style that Kane is sporting, Declan is more polished up. In khaki pants with a dark brown belt and a light blue, button-up shirt with a brown tie hanging loosely from his neck, I can’t help but feel tingles as I watch him. When I notice the brown beanie on his head, I want to laugh. What the hell? It’s hot out! I’m grinning at the silliness of it, but when my eyes fall to his face to find his lips are set in a straight line, my grin falls. If I weren’t attracted to him, I would think he was an asshole with how angry he looks. I want to know why he looks that way.
No one is talking and poor Fiona looks like she’s seen a ghost as Kane and Declan take a seat at the bar. Kane removes his baseball cap, laying it on the bar, and I fully expect Declan to remove his hat, but he doesn’t. My grin returns as I place the pint on the bar and head to where they sit. I am excited, giddy almost, to get the chance to talk to him. Silly I know, but I am.
“Welcome guys, what can I get you to drink?”
“A pint for me, Dec?” Kane says, glancing over at him. I do the same, and his eyes are intense on me. Gosh, his eyes are so blue. Almost sparkling, but his brows are squished together, along with his lips, in a straight line. He looks like he’s in pain. I laugh as I reach out, poking the middle of his head, causing his eyes to widen in surprise. I swear I hear people gasp, but I ignore them as I say, “I’m just asking what you’d like. No reason to look at me like that! Are you suffering from ARF?”
He blinks a few times as Kane laughs from beside him. “ARF?”
I really don’t know what has gotten into me. Is it the nerves of being around him? I don’t know, but I can’t stop smiling as I say, “Asshole Resting Face. You look so mad. It’s a beautiful day, the birds are singing, and you are in the best pub in Mayo. What do you have to be angry about? Plus, we are serving cottage pie, a delicacy that people come from all over for. My aunt Shelia is the best cook ever, and I promise it will wipe that frown right off that beautiful face of yours. So let’s try this again, what can I get you to drink?”
He looks down, a smile playing on his lips, before looking back up at me, “Are you calling me an arsehole?”
I shake my head, a playful smile resting on my lips. There is something about him that keeps me from looking away. He is beautiful, interesting, and I like the way his face warms with color when I gaze into his eyes. Leaning on the bar, my face resting in my hands, I say, “No, not at all. I just don’t understand the look. You don’t even know my name, and you are glaring at me. What did I do to you?”
He leans towards me, and God, he smells delicious—something woodsy and spicy. This close, I can see that his square jaw has a tad bit of stubble, not much but enough to make me want to reach out and touch it. With his eyes locked on mine, he says, “You’re right. What is your name?”
In a low voice, I say, “Amberlyn Reilly. Shh, don’t tell, but I’m a Yank.”
He smiles and winks. “I’ll take it to me grave.”
I have always been intrigued by the accent here in Ireland, but Declan makes it positively sexy. With redness warming my cheek, I lean back, holding onto the bar as I ask, “Great, so since you don’t look like you want to stab me any longer, what can I get you?”
Kane laughs, but he doesn’t. He just watches me. He’s so serious, and that just makes me more curious. “A pint of beer please, and also some of that cottage pie.”
Kane says, “I’ll have the same.”
“Coming right up, fellas,” I say before turning to go get them a beer. Before I can, Fiona is dragging me to the back, despite my protest. “What the hell?” I scold.
“What the hell? Amberlyn! You just poked the Whiskey Prince in the head and called him an arsehole! Are you crazy?”
“What? He thought it was funny because obviously I was joking!”
“He’s the Whiskey Prince!”
“So? He seems just as normal as us.”
She exasperatedly says, “Jaysus! Amberlyn, he is a big deal, okay? Wait…” She pauses, taking a large breath before setting me with a look. “Who is the most famous person ever that you love?”
I don’t even think before saying, “Justin Timberlake.”
She goes to say something but pauses before saying, “Oh good lord, that’s a fine one. He is so good looking.”
“I know, beautiful,” I gush with a dreamy smile, but then I am taken aback when she waves her hands widely in my face.
I make my rounds, picking up pints and cups, refilling them and talking to my patrons the best I can. Everyone is just so happy and in return, it makes me happy. I joke with everyone as they tease me for being a Yank, and I even flirt some with some of my older regulars. It’s innocent and doesn’t make me nervous the way it does with the younger guys. They don’t care, they only want the entertainment, but younger guys actually want attention and that freaks me out. I’ve been getting better though. The night before I actually talked to a college fella that stayed until close to flirt with me. He was sweet, promised to be in tonight, but I doubt he will. Fiona says he has a girlfriend, and I scolded her for not telling me earlier. She claimed it was because she wanted me to practice, but I wish she hadn’t. I don’t like flirting with guys who have girlfriends. I wouldn’t want someone doing that to my guy.
When I round the bar to refill a pint, the pub falls silent. Looking up to see what is wrong, I see that everyone is staring at Kane and then I see him. Declan O’Callaghan. He is visibly uncomfortable, but that isn’t what has me staring at him like the rest of the bar. No, it’s his eyes. This close, I can tell they are ice blue, and they are breathlessly beautiful. Unlike the roll-out-of-bed style that Kane is sporting, Declan is more polished up. In khaki pants with a dark brown belt and a light blue, button-up shirt with a brown tie hanging loosely from his neck, I can’t help but feel tingles as I watch him. When I notice the brown beanie on his head, I want to laugh. What the hell? It’s hot out! I’m grinning at the silliness of it, but when my eyes fall to his face to find his lips are set in a straight line, my grin falls. If I weren’t attracted to him, I would think he was an asshole with how angry he looks. I want to know why he looks that way.
No one is talking and poor Fiona looks like she’s seen a ghost as Kane and Declan take a seat at the bar. Kane removes his baseball cap, laying it on the bar, and I fully expect Declan to remove his hat, but he doesn’t. My grin returns as I place the pint on the bar and head to where they sit. I am excited, giddy almost, to get the chance to talk to him. Silly I know, but I am.
“Welcome guys, what can I get you to drink?”
“A pint for me, Dec?” Kane says, glancing over at him. I do the same, and his eyes are intense on me. Gosh, his eyes are so blue. Almost sparkling, but his brows are squished together, along with his lips, in a straight line. He looks like he’s in pain. I laugh as I reach out, poking the middle of his head, causing his eyes to widen in surprise. I swear I hear people gasp, but I ignore them as I say, “I’m just asking what you’d like. No reason to look at me like that! Are you suffering from ARF?”
He blinks a few times as Kane laughs from beside him. “ARF?”
I really don’t know what has gotten into me. Is it the nerves of being around him? I don’t know, but I can’t stop smiling as I say, “Asshole Resting Face. You look so mad. It’s a beautiful day, the birds are singing, and you are in the best pub in Mayo. What do you have to be angry about? Plus, we are serving cottage pie, a delicacy that people come from all over for. My aunt Shelia is the best cook ever, and I promise it will wipe that frown right off that beautiful face of yours. So let’s try this again, what can I get you to drink?”
He looks down, a smile playing on his lips, before looking back up at me, “Are you calling me an arsehole?”
I shake my head, a playful smile resting on my lips. There is something about him that keeps me from looking away. He is beautiful, interesting, and I like the way his face warms with color when I gaze into his eyes. Leaning on the bar, my face resting in my hands, I say, “No, not at all. I just don’t understand the look. You don’t even know my name, and you are glaring at me. What did I do to you?”
He leans towards me, and God, he smells delicious—something woodsy and spicy. This close, I can see that his square jaw has a tad bit of stubble, not much but enough to make me want to reach out and touch it. With his eyes locked on mine, he says, “You’re right. What is your name?”
In a low voice, I say, “Amberlyn Reilly. Shh, don’t tell, but I’m a Yank.”
He smiles and winks. “I’ll take it to me grave.”
I have always been intrigued by the accent here in Ireland, but Declan makes it positively sexy. With redness warming my cheek, I lean back, holding onto the bar as I ask, “Great, so since you don’t look like you want to stab me any longer, what can I get you?”
Kane laughs, but he doesn’t. He just watches me. He’s so serious, and that just makes me more curious. “A pint of beer please, and also some of that cottage pie.”
Kane says, “I’ll have the same.”
“Coming right up, fellas,” I say before turning to go get them a beer. Before I can, Fiona is dragging me to the back, despite my protest. “What the hell?” I scold.
“What the hell? Amberlyn! You just poked the Whiskey Prince in the head and called him an arsehole! Are you crazy?”
“What? He thought it was funny because obviously I was joking!”
“He’s the Whiskey Prince!”
“So? He seems just as normal as us.”
She exasperatedly says, “Jaysus! Amberlyn, he is a big deal, okay? Wait…” She pauses, taking a large breath before setting me with a look. “Who is the most famous person ever that you love?”
I don’t even think before saying, “Justin Timberlake.”
She goes to say something but pauses before saying, “Oh good lord, that’s a fine one. He is so good looking.”
“I know, beautiful,” I gush with a dreamy smile, but then I am taken aback when she waves her hands widely in my face.
