“You say that you won’t let what I’ve said bother you.”

I glance back at my da and stiffen at the sight of him. He still has the power to make me feel like he did when he scolded me when I was six years old and was found breaking windows with rocks. It was all Kane’s idea, of course, since my nanny was a bitch, but I was still the one that took the brunt of the punishment. I swallow loudly as I nod. “Sure, I won’t.”

“But you are, I know you are, and that shows me that she does mean something to you and that this is more than you are letting on. It won’t last. She doesn’t believe in what we do, who we are. She isn’t what you need.”

“You don’t know what she is,” I snap, my heart pounding so fast in my chest that it hurts.

“It doesn’t matter because I know you, and you believe in family, in traditions, and she doesn’t have that.”

Taking in a deep breath to keep myself from cussing my da out, I look up at him. “Da, you don’t know her. Nothing about her. She loved her family, she has traditions, and she is the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.”

“So you love her.”

I balk, my heart racing at speeds I didn’t know it could go. My palms are soaking wet, and I feel faint. I hate arguing with my father, but I hate that I might be lying with the answer I am about to provide him. I don’t know what I feel. “No, but I care for her, and I know that this is nothing to bat your eyes at. She is special, and I feel that our relationship could be something to treasure. I’d like the respect from you to see what it is.”

Looking away, he shakes his head slowly before letting out a long breath. “I hope you aren’t making the same mistake your sister did. She got involved with someone that is not in our social standing and look what happened. Thank goodness she found Micah.”

Sometimes my da can be a real snob. Is that all he cares about? Someone’s social standing? Someone’s money? What about who they are? And fuck, am I like him? Looking him over, I am disgusted, not only with him, but with myself. I’m like him in so many ways, and I can’t believe I’ve allowed that to happen. I don’t agree with his views. I want to be successful but because I’m savvy, not because I chose people with money over anyone else. I don’t want to be a snob, a stuck-up arsehole. I want to be someone that Amberlyn can like, maybe one day fall in love with. Having my da say this has put everything in perspective for me. I have to make sure I never end up like him—bitter and hating anyone that isn’t us. Not that I owe him anything else in this conversation, but I still feel that I have to reiterate how important Amberlyn is.

“She is nothing like that slick git, Casey Burke. She is special,” I say confidently. “You’ll see.”

When I pull into the pub later that night, my da and the conversation we had are the last think I’m thinking of. Amberlyn is center stage, shining, flooding my thoughts with every detail I can remember. Which is basically everything about her. I’ve missed the way her hair cascades down her shoulders, the way her eyes shine, and the way her lips purse when she is in deep thought. God, my hands are shaking. I want to see her so bad. At this point, I don’t care what we do. We can sit in the car and talk and I would be happy, which will be what we do if plan A doesn’t work for her.

Reaching for the door handle, I go inside and the loud, boisterous pub goes quiet at my entrance. Popping up from behind the bar, Amberlyn grins as her eyes set on mine. My chest aches at the site of her. She looks angelic. Her hair falls the way I like it down her shoulders, wild and curly, her eyes bright with only a little makeup enhancing them. Her lips are glossed to perfection and a sweet, pink color dusts her cheeks. When she comes out from behind the bar, she is wearing a pair of fitted jeans and a green see-through shirt with a tank covering the pieces I’ve been dreaming about. As she reaches me, a slow grin forms on my lips.

“Hey.”

“Hey there,” I say as my hands shake at my side. I want to envelope her in a hug, nuzzle my nose in her hair, and get lost in the intoxicating smell of her. “You look beautiful.”

She smiles sweetly, the pink of her cheeks darkening. “Thank you. Let’s go before my uncle comes out here and threatens you or something.”

I chuckle at that as she takes my hand, lacing her small fingers with mine and basically dragging me out the door with only a wave to Fiona. I wave, too, and receive a grin as the door slams shut. Once we are outside, she whips around, wrapping her arms tightly around my middle. My eyes drift closed as I hug her in closer, loving the way she feels in my arms. She is small, but she fits me perfectly. Taking in a deep breath, I get drunk off the smell of her hair. I love it, crave it, and when she pulls back, I stop her by holding her tighter.

“Not yet,” I whisper.

“I don’t like sharing you with anyone else.”

I know what she means. I hate the onlookers, too, but this… this is wonderful. I can feel her smile on my shoulder as she hugs me tighter. Squeezing her one last time, I pull back and look down at her beautifully flushed face. She bites into her lip as her head falls to the side, her eyes locked on mine. “What if I kiss you?”

I pause, surprised. “What?”

“You won’t kiss me until the perfect moment as you say, but what if I kiss you?”

I grin as I shake my head, letting my hands drop from her waist to put some distance between us. “I won’t let you.”

She scoffs. “A willing girl’s lips coming towards you, and you won’t kiss them?”

“Nope,” I say, taking another step back for good measure. She laughs as she follows me, trying to close the gap between us, but I am quicker. Turning around, I run to the car with her chasing me, our laughter filling the air. When I reach my car, I unlock it but before I can get in, she jumps in my seat and looks up at me with her lips pursed in the air.

“Kiss-me,” she mumbles through her pursed lips. I laugh, but damn if I don’t want to. I wouldn’t stop though. I’d give her the best fuckin’ kiss in the world, and I refuse to do that in the cab of my car.

“No way,” I say, reaching for her wrist to pull her from the car, but she bats me away playfully, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“I’m not moving until you kiss me,” she says, crossing her arms under her breasts to push them up. Not sure if she did it on purpose but of course, I look at her delectable chest through the sheer green fabric before looking up at her pursed lips. Swallowing loudly, I cross my own arms before I do what we both want. “Come on, you’ve got me begging for a kiss from you. How pathetic.”