Becoming the Whiskey Princess Page 19


“It’ll only be like this a little longer. Gotta get all the legal shite out of the way,” he says, running his thumb along my cheekbone.

“I know, I just hate being apart. And seeing Fiona all over Kane has me a little jealous.”

His brows come together as his eyes bore into mine. “Why’s that?”

“’Cause I want to be all over you, but we never have time for us.”

He smiles. “I mean, we got a bit now, want me to take ya against this bank? Doesn’t seem very romantic. Plus, not only can my mom see us, but I’m sure your aunt and uncle could too, shite, everyone.”

I laugh along with him as I shake my head. “No, I don’t want my first time to be where everyone can see us. I’m just frustrated.”

“Sexually?” he says, waggling his eyebrows at me and I nod.

“A lot.”

Leaning his head to mine, he runs his nose along mine and whispers, “I’ve been sexually frustrated since the first moment I saw ya.”

I giggle before his lips fall to mine in a gentle assault. I close my eyes and our lips move together in such a sweet but urgent way. Moving his hand up the back of my neck, he slowly lies back, bringing me up against his chest. My heart is out of control in my chest, and I can feel his against mine too. Kissing down my jaw, he nibbles on my neck before coming below my ear as his hand slides up my bare leg to the spot at my thighs when my shorts sit. Squeezing my ass, he kisses the spot below my ear before nibbling on my lobe.

He then whispers, “Sure, I can’t take ya here?”

My face breaks into a grin as I shake my head. “I have to face your mom tomorrow, and knowing our luck, she’ll see us.”

He chuckles against my ear before nibbling some more and saying, “I can’t wait to see you under this tree. In a beautiful dress, all mine.”

I smile as I close my eyes, leaning my head against his. “I’ll be your princess.”

Pulling away, he looks down at me, moving my baby hairs out of my face. With a grin on his face, he moves his thumb along my jaw before kissing me softly. Pulling back, he says, “No, Amberlyn, you’ll be my queen.”

I always thought when I stood in a wedding dress that my mom would be beside me.

That she would be crying and fussing over how beautiful I looked. That she would hate a dress but love another and ultimately help me choose the dress that was made for me. We would cry and hold each other because we were so happy. Then we would go to lunch and talk about more details, about my groom and how Daddy would have loved him. Since my father died when I was younger, I had accepted that he wouldn’t there to walk me down the aisle, but then we decided that mom would.

Now though, I had no one to do it.

I hadn’t even thought about that until I looked at myself in the mirror and took in everything I was seeing. The dress is gorgeous; of course, we are in the finest wedding shop in Dublin. So I expected nothing less. Especially as the owner herself picked it out since it was up to O’Callaghan standards. It has more jewels and sparkles on it than the sky has stars. It is a strapless top with a skirt like Cinderella’s. It’s the twelfth dress I’ve put on, and it’s stunning, but I hate it. I don’t know if I hate it because I really do or if it is because my mom isn’t here to help me pick out my dress.

Every girl should have their mother with her on the day she picks the dress that will begin her forever.

But I don’t.

Coming up behind me, Mrs. O’Callaghan looks me over, taking in every detail as she nods slowly. She’s done this with every gown and each one I’ve hated.

“What do you think, Mrs. O’Callaghan?” the owner, Michele, asks, but why is she asking her? Why does it matter to her? It’s my dress! And she hasn’t asked me once what I think. I just shake my head and walk away. Meeting Fiona’s gaze in the mirror, I can see she shares my sentiments, and I know she is on the brink of losing her shit. She’s kept her mouth shut on my account, but even I am getting frustrated. My aunt is on top of the world being able to have tea and talk with Mrs. O’Callaghan; I doubt she even notices that I am upset. And I hate how angry that makes me. Everyone, minus Fiona, is more worried about what Mrs. O’Callaghan thinks than me.

And I’m the bride.

“She has the perfect body for this. I love it. I’ve loved all the dresses though. The only thing that worries me is her wound. Surely it will be heal by then, yeah? Think we can cover it with some makeup?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure so,” my aunt says and my blood starts to boil.

“I’m proud of my wound. It’s a constant reminder of how much I love Declan.”

Mrs. O’Callaghan gives me a sweet smile. “Of course, my dear, but it isn’t very pretty.”

“So? It’s a part of her,” Fiona says, and I see my aunt pinch her thigh. “Ow!”

“Shush,” Shelia says, giving her a look, but I couldn’t agree more.

“They are right, but it doesn’t matter if you like it, Ma. It’s Amberlyn’s dress, her body,” Lena says as she crosses her arms over her chest. It’s the first time she has been even remotely involved. She’s mostly been playing on her phone.

“Oh of course, Amberlyn, my dear, what do you think? Is this the one?”

Meeting her gaze in the mirror, I say, “No, I hate it.”

Michele gasps, so does my aunt, while Fiona smirks and Lena shakes her head. Mrs. O’Callaghan looks at me in total disbelief, and I slowly step off the platform, tears stinging my eyes as I go back to the changing room to take it off. Slamming the door behind me, I kick the skirt out of my way and let my hands drop to my sides.

I just miss my mom.

Tears start to roll down my cheeks and I suck in a deep breath, trying to hold them in, but it isn’t working. When a knock comes at the door, I know it’s Michele coming to help me out of the dress, but I need to be alone.

“Amberlyn, can I come in?”

It’s Fiona.

“Yeah,” I say, and she pushes the door open before glancing at me. I can see the panic on her face, but she tucks it back in as she comes up behind me, undoing the dress.

“Let’s get this frilly shite off ya, yeah?”

I nod, my lip wobbling as she unbuttons the back and helps me out of it. Reaching for my robe, I cover my body before sitting on the bench and covering my face with my hands as I cry. I feel her near me before she wraps her arms around me and hugs me close to her, her lips pressing into my temple.

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