Whiskey Prince Page 54


Letting out a breath, I pull into the pub and notice it is packed. I wouldn’t expect anything else, but I guess a small part of me hoped they’d be dead so Amberlyn and I could escape away. Locking the door, I head inside, greeted by silence when everyone sees that it is me.

“Howya, Declan.”

I look up to see Mrs. Maclaster grinning at me, and I smile back. “Howya, Mrs. Maclaster.”

She winks before balancing a tray on her hip with plates. “At the bar tonight? Or would you like a table?”

“The bar, please.”

She cocks her head up towards the bar and says, “On with ya then. Amberlyn should be out in a bit.”

“Thank you,” I say, heading to the bar where my girl stands with a grin on her face and her hands full of plates.

“Hey you,” she calls as she passes by me, winking playfully. The smile on my face can’t be removed as my fingers run along the small of her back, the silk of her shirt teasing my fingertips.

“My love,” I whisper, and she flashes me a grin before going to deliver the plates to her patrons. I watch as she moves, talking and joking with the elderly couple before going to a group of ladies. I know they feel at home, loved even, because that is the way you feel when Amberlyn is around. You just feel good. She looks amazing tonight, too. In shorts with a green, see-through tank layered over a green tank, her hair is pulled up in a bun and she is wearing thick, dark-framed glasses that are covering her sparkling eyes. I’m not sure if they are prescription, but I love the hip look she is portraying. When Fiona passes by me, I see that she matches Amberlyn, wearing the same glasses but with a yellow shirt. I smile at her as I settle into the barstool, receiving one back before pulling out my phone, checking my Facebook until Amberlyn appears.

When she places a pint in front of me, I say with a grin, “I needed this.”

She smiles before coming up on her tippy toes, leaning over the bar to place a sweet kiss on my lips. As we part, my grin grows as I say, “No, I needed that.”

As I cup her beautiful face, we share a smile before she falls back on her heels.

“Everything okay?”

I shrug. “Family drama.”

“Anything I can do to help?” she asks, her head falling to the side, her eyes genuine.

I shake my head, lacing my fingers with hers. “Just being here is helping.”

“You don’t talk about them much.”

I shrug. “There is nothing to talk about.”

She bites into her lip before squeezing my hand and asking, “Are you hungry?”

I nod. “Yes, please.”

“Special? Fish and chips.”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

“Awesome,” she says, letting my hand go to fill my order. I play on my phone while I wait. It doesn’t take long and soon she returns, laying my plate on the bar.

“How long until you’re off?” I ask, munching on a chip.

“Gotta get through the rush and then I can go. Tomorrow though, Fiona is going out with Kane so I probably won’t be able to see you,” she says sadly with a shrug.

I smile, running my finger along the back of her hand. “I’m not going to lie, that sucks.”

“I know.” She grins as she moves away from the bar. “Enjoy your dinner.”

“Thanks, love.”

As I eat, I watch her. It’s hard not to. She is intoxicating and takes up whatever space she is in. I love her laugh, the way she moves, and the way she has a quick comeback to the drunks in the bar. Sometimes I feel like I’m enveloped in her carefree way, and I love it. I wish I could be half of what she is. I am still so mad, frustrated with my da, but like I said earlier, she makes it better. Nothing bothers her. She takes everything with a grain of salt and always sees the brighter side. I wish I could do that. Instead, I dwell on things and I constantly think of things I cannot change. I want to learn to be like her, I want to grow with her, and to constantly be surprised by her. She is simply amazing, and thankfully, all mine.

It takes longer than I would have liked for the rush to slow down. It’s well past eight before we are in the car, heading towards the movies.

“I’m sorry,” she says for the hundredth time.

“Love, its fine. We’ll just make the later show.”

“I know, but I feel bad you had to wait so long.”

“It’s no big deal,” I say, squeezing her hand. Out the corner of my eye, I see her yawn and ask, “Do you still want to go?”

She nods earnestly. “Oh yes, I can’t wait. I’m just worn out.”

“Are you sure? We can go back.”

“No, I want to go. I want to be with you.”

I bring her hand up to kiss her knuckles before letting it drop back in my lap. We arrive at the movies just in time for the later showing like I hoped. Getting out of the car, I come around and wait as she fools around with something before getting out.

“Hey, do you have your wallet?” she calls at me.

I glance over at her and slowly nod. What is she worried about my wallet for? “Yeah, why?”

“Can you hold my bank card?” she asks, holding it up for me.

“Why?”

“I don’t want to bring my purse in, and my shorts don’t have pockets.”

I blink and can’t believe what I was thinking. This is Amberlyn, not some fuckin’ gold-digging bitch. Taking her card, I smile as I tuck it in my pocket. “You don’t need it.”

She laughs. “I like popcorn and stuff.”

“And I’ll buy it. It’s a date, Amberlyn,” I say, taking her hand in mine.

“I know that and you are obligated to buy my ticket, but I can get the popcorn with extra butter, M&Ms, and a pop.”

I pull her against me, kissing her temple before saying, “Or I can get it all and you can hush?”

She glares up at me, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Are you telling me to shut up and let you be the man here while I be the girl?”

I laugh. “Yes. Now come on, we are late.”

She laughs along with me, probably knowing I won’t budge, and once inside, I pay for everything before settling into our seats to watch the latest action flick. It is good but it’s better with Amberlyn in the crook of my arm. When it ends, we head through the lobby towards the car while people stop and stare. I hate it. I want to apologize but in a way, I know it would do no good. My da’s words play in my head, saying that she isn’t made for this life, but I know she is. So I don’t say anything because she needs to get used to it if we were going to be together, but when someone pulls out their phone and takes a picture, I can’t help it and say, “Sorry, people are staring and taking pictures. I hoped it wouldn’t be this busy.”

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