Whiskey Prince Page 4

  “That’s not Fiona, is it?” I ask, basically pleading that it isn’t.

  “Hell no, Fiona is thicker. That’s the cousin, the yank.”

  I refuse to let my eyes leave her breathtaking body as I ask, “And you don’t know her name?”

  “No.”

  “But she works at the pub?”

  “Yeah, you know, a lot of our beautiful town is full of women like that.”

  I tear my eyes away from her, look back at a grinning Kane, and say, “I don’t care about them. I care about her.”

  “She is hot.”

  I shake my head. “No, she’s glorious.”

  I watch her for another minute as Kane chuckles beside me. I have the urge to know her. To learn what her favorite movie is. What book she is reading. I want to know why she is here and not back in America. I want to know everything but most of all, I want to find out what color her eyes are and get lost in them. I want to learn her name and then whisper it before dropping my lips to hers. I want, no, I need, to know her.

  Turning to my best friend, I ask, “What time did you want to go to lunch tomorrow?”

  I am answered with a knowing laugh, but I don’t care because I just saw an angel I am going to make mine.

  The sun warms me all the way to the core, and I’ve decided that I found the honey hole of the Maclaster land. I need this. Last night, hearing stories of my mother and father in their younger years from my aunt and uncle had me biting back my tears. God, it was horrible. I almost lost it plenty of times, but I held them back until I was in the privacy of my own room. Then I spent the night bawling my eyes out, holding myself as the hot water of my shower hit me. The shower is my favorite place to cry. No one can hear me, and I usually have an hour to myself before Fiona or anyone comes to find me. I hate that I still cry so much, I mean, I knew she was leaving me. I had counseling, I met with my youth group leader, I knew what to expect, I knew what pain was coming, but I don’t think it prepared me for how much I would miss her. Them. I miss my dad just as much, and it just hurts. They left a hole in my heart, and I try so hard every day to do what she asked me to do but it just seems so hard.

  I want to break down. I want to quit life, ball up in the fetal position, and beg her to come back to me, but I know she can’t. I know that she is watching me and rooting for me. So for her, I wake up each day, put on makeup, get dressed, and I fucking smile as I try to live the life she wants for me. I try to leave my sadness, my heartbreak, and my shyness all behind me to try different things. I want to be the Amberlyn Reilly that my mom and dad would be proud of, and that girl is happy.

  So since last night was shitty for me, I decided to do something that would make me happy and that was to get lost in a good book on a beautiful summer day. When I asked Fiona where I could go to read, she rolled her eyes before pointing out towards this majestic lake behind the B&B. For some reason, everything in Ireland just seems so much brighter and more vivid to me. I’ve lain near the lake that sat behind my house year after year, and it had never been as nice as it is lying here now.

  After lathering my body up with tanning lotion, I wipe my hands on my blanket before picking up my book. It’s an oldie but a goody, and I’m excited to get lost in the world of Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy. Something about this country makes me want to catch up on all my favorite Jane Austen books. Maybe it’s the land or the history but I just love it here. I’m so glad that I took the chance to come here. I love that I am learning who I am and finding my own way. I just wish my mom and dad were here physically to see me do it.

  I lie back with my book on my forearms as the sun kisses my body. I’m hoping for a tan, but let’s be honest, I’ll probably just burn. Can’t blame me for trying though. Fiona is so beautifully tanned. It’s fake, but those damn tanning beds scare the shit out of me. When I tried to express this fear with her, she waved me off, muttered something that sounded very close to eejit, and walked away. So here I am, hoping for a natural tan.

  But to my surprise, Mr. Darcy isn’t keeping my attention. There is a boat on the lake with two very handsome guys inside. I am pretty sure one is Kane. He looks just like the guy that Fiona has been gushing over, and I’m almost confident it is him. I have no clue who the other guy is. One thing is for sure, he won’t stop staring at me. I guess he thinks I don’t know since he can’t see my eyes. I see him running his gaze all over me, and I can’t say that I mind.

  I pride myself in the fact that I have 20/20 vision and from my spot on the bank of the lake, I can see him perfectly. I can’t see the bottom of him but the top is impressive. He is thin but toned, with large arms that I find incredibly sexy. He has a round face with a square jaw and a wide nose that I think brings character to his face. His lips are thin but what I love most is his hair. It’s curly from what I can see, but it’s covered in a beanie. I don’t completely understand why, since it is in the nines today, but whatever, he’s cute and he can pull it off. A smile pulls at my lips as I tear my gaze off him.

  Maybe I’ll get lucky, and he’ll come into the pub.

  Maybe he could be my risk or my something drastic.

  Later at dinner, I settle into my seat beside Fiona as my aunt serves us. Like I knew I would, my body aches from where the sun has caused havoc on my skin. I should have never stayed as long as I did, but I couldn’t stop watching Kane and his friend on the boat. I’m almost positive Kane’s friend was waiting for me to leave because when I got up to go, he started to row the boat back to the bank. I may be flattering myself, but it made me smile nonetheless. I’ve had a grin on my face that won’t go away, even after rubbing aloe all over my burning body.

  As Shelia loads my plate up with sliced pork and potatoes, I looked over at Fiona to say, “I saw Kane today.”

  She glanced over at me as Shelia asks, “Who’s that?”

  “Ma, just a second,” Fiona says, turning to me. “Where? What was he doing? He wasn’t with someone, was he?”

  I roll my eyes. “He was out on a boat and yes, with some guy. I’ve never seen him before.”

  Her brows came together. “The lake? Outside?”

  “Yeah, that’s usually where lakes are.”

  She smacks me playfully as my uncle laughs from across the table and my aunt asks once more, “Who this is Kane fella?”

  “Some guy, Ma, I fancy him a bit,” Fiona says quickly before looking back at me. “What was he doing on the lake, in a boat?”

  “Fishing.”

  She is confused, that is obvious, as she turns to her father. “Da, why would Kane Levy be on the O’Callaghan Lake?”

  Michael shrugs his shoulders. “Hell, I don’t know, darlin’. I don’t even know who Kane Levy is.”

  “Who? Alice and Paul Levy’s Kane?”

  We all look up at Shelia as Fiona says, “Yeah, ya know them?”

  “Of course I do. Kane is over there because he works there. He’s been friends with the young O’Callaghan lad since they were wee bit babies. It was probably him that Amberlyn saw.”

  Fiona smacks her hands together as she nods. “That’s right, I knew that. Yeah, it was probably him. They are best pals, but I can’t believe you saw him. No one sees Declan.”

  I don’t touch my food when it is placed before me. Instead, I ask, “Why?”

  “I don’t know. He just disappeared a couple years ago. Rumor is he has locked himself away for his bride who is coming in another couple of years.”

  So he is engaged? That’s depressing, but I am also confused. “Locked himself away?”

  “Yeah, up in that big ‘ole castle of his.”

  “Castle?”

  Fiona laughs as she covers her mouth. “Yeah, he’s the Whiskey Prince.”

  “He’s a prince!” I exclaim. “That’s so cool!”

  Michael chuckles before saying, “No Amberlyn, he isn’t like real royalty. That’s just what he is called around her. The O’Callaghan’s are basically our royalty. They are kind of like your Kennedys. I don�
�t know why only Declan is called the whiskey anything. It isn’t as if we are calling his parents the king and queen or even the daughter a princess. It’s weird really, but that’s the Irish folk for ya,” he says playfully, but he gets a smack by my aunt anyway.

  “I don’t know why we’ve done that either, we just have,” Shelia says as she sits down. “I think his grandda said it once when he was born, and it stuck.”

  I’m extremely interested in this because I was attracted to him, but also because it is interesting and I want to know more. “Is his dad the president or something similar?”

  He shakes his head. “Senior O’Callaghan was in politics for a bit, but the reason they’re a big deal is because they are very, very rich. Whiskey is a good business to go into. Everyone loves to drink. Because they are so rich and they do so much for the town, they are worshiped.”

  “There was a festival when Declan and his younger sister, Lena, were born,” Shelia adds. “The whole town shut down just to get a glimpse of the next heir to the business, and then they did it for Lena because Noreen O’Callaghan wanted to show off her beautiful baby girl.”

  “And everyone talks about them. They are a big deal around her,” Fiona says as she tears apart a piece of bread.

  “If that’s true, then why haven’t I heard anything about them in the last month?” I ask, surprised by it all. He seemed so normal, hanging out on the lake, fishing.

  “That’s ’cause he doesn’t come out. The rest of his family does, but Declan keeps to himself, only stays on the grounds. It’s like its own world over there. No one is allowed on unless invited,” Fiona says as Michael nods his head.

  I’m interested and disappointed at the same time. Disappointed because my chance of ever seeing him in the pub has died, but interested because I want to know why and more than anything, I want to know him. Deciding that I have thought way too much about a person that has no connection to me and probably never will, I reach for my fork and dig into the amazing food that my aunt cooked.

  But soon my thoughts drift back to the guy on the lake.

  The Whiskey Prince.

  It’s busy, like uncommonly busy this afternoon, and I blame it on Shelia for serving her famous cottage pie. I don’t like it much but apparently, the whole town does. Every table is full of men and women, loud and boisterous as they eat and drink. I made the joke that I couldn’t believe people drink in the middle of the day when I first started at the pub, but I soon learned there really isn’t a time when a person doesn’t drink in this country.

  As Fiona takes orders quickly, I fill them just as fast, passing out the dishes before filling pints and basically looking like a chicken with my head cut off. When everyone is served, Fiona and I lean against the bar and take in deep breaths. I reach for my cup of water and drain it as she drains a beer before flashing me a grin.

  “I need a drink after that. Curse ma for making her pie today; people are here from three towns over! I wouldn’t be surprised if some came from Dublin!”

  I nod in agreement. “You’re probably right.”

  She laughs as she fills her beer a little from the tap, draining it and standing up. “Okay, I am going to go get plates. You refill drinks?”

  “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 alway
s 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.

  “Focus! Imagine that Declan is Justin Timberlake. That is how big he is here. Maybe even bigger.”