Page 114 of On The Rocks

“I loved your speech,” I shouted over the booming thud of bass. “Your da would be in his element.”

“Yeah. The aul fella would’ve loved this,” he rumbled, slipping his arm across my shoulder and pulling me to his side. The dance floor was already filling up with people enjoying themselves, and I smiled at Carbine strutting across the stage and shaking his ass while he belted out the song as if he was Mick Jagger.

I rolled up on my toes and whispered, “It’s a fabulous night.”

Callum's nose skimmed mine softly. “It’s everything I ever wanted, Maeve. I couldn’t have dreamed for better.” The intensity behind his eyes told me he wasn’t talking about the bar, and my heart swelled with emotion for my husband.

I shoved my face into his neck. “This is only the beginning, Callum O’Shea.” My hand rested over his heart until I felt it thudding against my palm, sure and steady, just like my husband himself.

The moment was perfect, and the night was turning out to be everything we always wanted it to be. But most importantly, we were surrounded by friends and family, all the people closest to us who wanted us to succeed and be happy.

However, little did I know that one person was watching and waiting for their opportunity to bring everything crashing down.

I should’ve realized; I mean, it was me we were talking about. Of course my happiness wouldn’t last because good things just didn’t happen in my life.

Not ever.

CHAPTER 23

CALLUM

Leaning back against the wall, I surveyed my kingdom with a sense of pride I hadn’t experienced in years. My bar may as well have been Buckingham Palace—to me, it was just as beautiful. The refurbishment was a goddamned revelation.

The new drinks were a huge hit. It was good we had more coming out of fermentation over the next week because we’d almost sold out of everything we’d stocked for opening night. Atlas would be left disappointed because there’d be no carry-outs for him for a few days.

All night, I’d talked, laughed, entertained, and hosted alongside my wife. Now, I needed a moment to take everything in and contemplate what we’d achieved.

There were thirty minutes left until last orders. Usually, the crowds began to thin out right about now, but the place was still heaving except for John Stone, who had to be poured into one of his club’s SUVs twenty minutes before because he’d over-imbibed on the new ale.

The band had gone down a storm, and everybody was having a grand old time on the dance floor. Even Bowie and Breaker were up there with their women. Dischordium’s set should’veended ten minutes ago, but they were having such a blast they’d just carried on playing.

Not that I was complaining.

I fucking loved it.

This was why I did what I did. The love in the room, the crackling energy, the laughter, and the camaraderie all made me feel like a part of something special. Da was the same way, too. My aul fella lived for it—making people happy was his driving force—and I got it; I always did.

It was why the bar meant so much to me. It wasn’t just the memories; it was what the place represented.

Life.

Love.

Connection.

The Shamrock was special because even though I held myself aloof from most people, my bar had always brought those things into my life, first from my family and now my wife. As much as everybody thought I shied away from being close to people because I didn’t want it, they were wrong.

I shied away from connection and from love because I felt them too much.

Sometimes, to my detriment.

Even though my da was a difficult man, his loss had almost broken me. Grief tore at me from the inside out until I was barely keeping it together, and then Maeve came along and helped me begin to heal. At first, dealing with the debt on the bar and, subsequently, our marriage was all that kept me fighting, but somewhere along the way, she made me start living again just by being her.

Maeve O’Shea gave me the same things the bar did.

Life.

Love.

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