Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 52260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
There was an “Irish wake” being held at the largest O’Reilly pub, though they skipped the tradition of laying out the body. It was mostly an excuse to get drunk. But, everyone knew there was an even more important purpose. They gathered to find out if the rumors were true.
When we walked into the pub, all talking and raucous laughter ceased. Even the musicians fell silent. They waited and watched us as we made our way to the bar. The bartender pushed two shots of whiskey toward us. Carly lifted hers into the air, waiting for the rest of the room to follow suit. “Sláinte!” she called out and tossed the shot back. The sentiment, basically “to your health” was rumbled through the crowd as they repeated it before they drank.
The bartender refilled her glass and she held it up a second time. “It’s a common toast, ‘may you be in heaven two hours before the devil knows you’re dead.’ But the devil has been waiting to collect my father’s soul for some time now.” There were some snorts of laughter around the room. She waited for silence, then continued, “So rather than wish him an afterlife he cannot have, I say ‘Go maire sibh bhur saol nua,’ and ‘Sliocht sleachta ar shliocht bhur sleachta’.” There was more laughter as she tossed back the second shot and the words echoed about the room. “Take this day to celebrate or mourn, whichever you wish, the life of Pat O’Reilly.” Her voice became deadly. “Tomorrow, is a new day and your allegiance lies with me, or the next Irish wake we attend will be yours.”
“Sláinte!” she called again and took one more swallow of whiskey. The response was wary, but they followed her example. She turned toward the bar, dismissing them and after a few minutes, the room filled with music and conversation once more.
I was so fucking turned on, I almost threw her over my shoulder and dragged her to the back to fuck her in the darkest available corner. I faced the bar to hide my condition and drank my own shot, taking the minute to try and think about anything but how fucking hot my woman was, especially when she showed her strength.
I felt my dick start to soften a little and blew out a breath of relief. Carly was staring down at her glass of amber liquid, almost studying it. I knew her better than anyone and I could see she was barely holding it together. Placing one of my hands atop of hers, I leaned in and whispered, “I’m so fucking proud of you, kitten. Remember, you’re not doing this alone.” She met my gaze and smiled, clearly feeling the intended comfort. “What were those toasts?” I asked. I only barely knew Irish tradition. “Sláinte” was definitely the extent of my Gaelic knowledge.
She laughed and smiled ruefully. “May you enjoy your new life and blessings on your posterity.”
I laughed with her for a minute before leaning down and stealing a lingering kiss.
“Who the feck are you? Get your fecking lips off of my fiancée!”
TEN
Carly
“Fiancée?” My question started as a whisper but ended on a yelp when Brandon shoved me behind him to face-off with the stranger who’d claimed to be engaged to me.
“The better question is who the fuck do you think you are?” Brandon’s voice was deceptively soft, the stare he leveled at the guy was lethal. “Because you sure as shit aren’t her fiancé.”
The guy’s chest puffed out as he turned red in the face. “Her da promised her to me.”
“Too bad for you, her father is six feet under and his word doesn’t mean a damn anymore.”
I felt the warmth of a body behind me and a hand being pressed onto my shoulder to hold me in place when I tried to get past Brandon. “Jaysus, Sean. You’re a fecking embarrassment, harassing Carly like this at her da’s wake.”
Oh, thank fuck! Tommy was here to help. Then again, seeing the glare Brandon sent over his shoulder when he saw where Tommy’s hand was, maybe it wasn’t a good thing. And here I was, stuck between a rock, a hard place, and an even harder place. I had Brandon in front of me, Tommy behind me, and the bar to one side. Neither man seemed in a rush to let me out, but I wasn’t about to let them handle this for me. My da had made this mess, and I was determined to clean it up. Shoving Tommy’s hand off my shoulder, I eased around Brandon and to his side. I took comfort in having both men standing with me, but as the head of the O’Reilly family, I needed to show everyone I could handle this on my own. I couldn’t afford to show any signs of weakness. Not here at least.