Taking Risk Series

by Aleo, Toni

  “You’re right,” I say with a nod. “But what is a holy hot oven?”

  “Your vagina.”

  I scoff. “You’re crazy.”

  “Yeah, I know, but don’t worry. He likes you a lot. He isn’t going to do anything to fuck that up. Just tell him once he starts getting all hot that you’re not ready.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. Okay, I gotta get ready.”

  “Knock ’em dead, kiddo,” she calls after me. I smile as I run to my bathroom, doing my makeup soft with pastel pinks to match my dress. Running my fingers through my hair, I try to tame the mass but fail miserably. I could throw it up, but I’ve found that Declan likes it down, so I leave it before finishing my makeup.

  I am putting on lip gloss when the door sounds. Slipping on some pink ballet flats, I snatch up my purse before running down the hall to the stairs.

  “See ya!” Fiona calls.

  “Bye! Call me if you need me.”

  “Okay.”

  Running down the stairs, I reach for the door and smile when Declan grins at me. Wearing tan shorts and a yellow tee, his sun-kissed skin glows. He is wearing a pair of aviators and that damn hat. I want to burn the fucking thing, but damn, he looks amazing. Leaning toward me, he places his lips firmly against mine, stealing my breath. Pulling away way too quickly, he laces his fingers with mine.

  “Hi.”

  I grin as I swing our hands like a child. “Hey.”

  “Ready?”

  “Yeah,” I say without hesitation. I may have been nervous before, but like Fiona said, Declan would never force me into anything I wouldn’t want to do.

  The car ride to Declan’s is quick, both of us speaking of our days. He had meetings and then some drama in the malting room since Kane wasn’t there today. I told him again about finding Kane, and he still didn’t understand why we found them like that. He had tried calling Kane, but he wasn’t answering.

  “I think we should leave it alone, you know? Even though he is my best friend and she is your cousin, I don’t want them to come between us. So let’s not talk about it, okay?”

  I nod in agreement. “Yeah, sounds like a plan.”

  He smiles. “Good, because I don’t need my girl getting pissed at me.”

  I laugh. “Won’t happen.”

  “You say that now. I’m a little weird.”

  “It’s okay, your charm makes up for it. Plus, I’m weird too.”

  He grins over at me as we drive through the gates of the O’Callaghan property. I take in the rolling hills of green, the lush trees, and the beauty where the horses are out grazing the field as we drive up a hill. When I look forward, the massive O’Callaghan castle is in view. Breathless at the beauty of it, I take in every single stone, the large, stained glass windows that cover every inch of the castle, and the general splendor of Declan’s home. It’s breathtaking, beautiful, and a little scary.

  “It isn’t haunted, right?”

  Declan laughs as he shakes his head. “Not our wing. My grandda claimed at one time his part was by his great-grandda, but I haven’t found any activity, and believe me, Kane and I looked when we were kids.”

  “I don’t doubt that,” I say as he parks. Someone opens the door for me and helps me out before wishing me a good afternoon.

  “Hello, thank you.”

  The man, I think his name is Matthew, smiles before Declan takes my hand. “Thanks, Matthew.”

  “You’re welcome, sir.”

  Tucking my hand under his arm where it rests on his bicep, he covers it with his other hand as we walk through the large, stone doors. “Are you hungry?”

  I shake my head. My stomach is hurting from all the ice cream and popcorn I devoured. “Not right now.”

  “Awesome, we can get right to it then.”

  My insides clench as my heart speeds up in my chest. Gasping for breath, I allow him to lead me through the gorgeous home. The furnishings are from the 1900s, classic and classy. There are pictures everywhere, big ones of Declan and who I assume is Lena. She’s as beautiful as he is, big blue eyes, long, light blond hair, and skinny as a rail. When he said she was more of a Barbie doll, he wasn’t much off. She’s perfect.

  While it is a beautiful home, without the pictures of Declan’s family, I wouldn’t believe anyone lived here. It is immaculate. Nothing out of place, not like at home where Aunt Shelia’s yarn is everywhere or where the fireplace is cluttered with Uncle Michael’s hunting stuff. While the B&B side is nice and tidy, our living quarters are well lived-in.

  Not like this.

  This is too nice.

  But then again, everything about Declan is always so put together. His car, his horse, his office, his home, and the way he acts around others. The only thing that isn’t is his hair, but he always keeps that hidden. While I like all of him, I like it better when he lets himself go and doesn’t worry one bit about the repercussions. Like when he almost fought Casey. I’ve never been so hot in my life. Or when he picked me up and kissed the stuffing out of me, his control slipping with every passing second. So fucking hot. Thankfully, though, he seems more himself when it is just us, and in a way, I like it like that. It’s like I get to keep all that part of him to myself.

  I’m selfish like that, I guess.

  As I lean into him, we head through the different corridors while Declan gives me the tour.

  “The house is massive, as you can tell, but my family lives in the North Wing, which is eight rooms, twelve bathrooms, two dining rooms, a huge kitchen, and three studies. It also has my favorite part of the house.”

  “Wow,” is all I can say as I take in every single detail of the house. I’m still blown away at how gorgeous everything is. “How many people work here?”

  “On the whole grounds? Over fifteen hundred, but that includes the distillery.”

  “Good Lord.”

  “Yeah, I live here with my ma, da, Lena, grandda, and grandma. I don’t see my grandparents much. They are traveling with my uncle and his family. I think they are in England right now. Lena usually goes with them, but she stayed home this year. When my da retires, he’ll travel more, too.”

  “So then you’ll have the whole house to yourself? Or will you travel, too?”

  He shakes his head. “Yeah, it will be all mine.”

  “Wow. This is a lot of house for one guy.”

  He bites into his lip as he nods his head. “Yeah, but by then I’ll be married.”

  I looked up, my brow raised. “Oh.”

  I have no clue why I just got jealous, but I am. It’s a horrible feeling, one that feels like it’s on fire in the middle of my chest. Biting into my lip hard, I push the feeling away as we reach a huge, white door.

  “So this is what I wanted to show ya.”

  Excitement takes over, and I bounce on my heels. I may have been nervous before, but I’m pretty sure this isn’t his room. For one, the door is as big as a car, and for another, he would have said “This is my room,” right? Shit! Letting go of my hand, he takes both handles in his hands and pushes the doors open. I swear, what I see brings tears to my eyes.

  “Please, pinch me.”

  Declan laughs as he shakes his head. “It’s real and my favorite place on the whole grounds, beside my room in the distillery.”

  “Good God,” I mutter as I set inside. The sun warms me from above, but I ignore it because all I see are rows and rows of books. It’s a library, a huge, beautiful library. Large marble pillars hold up another floor of books, and there is seating everywhere. It’s like a book nerd’s Holy Grail. “It’s like the Beauty and the Beast movie.”

  “That’s what Lena said when we were growing up.”

  “Oh my God,” I say in complete awe. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”

  He comes up beside me, and I look up into his eyes. He smiles before saying, “I was thinking the same thing.”

  My cheeks rush with heat as my heart completely blows up in my chest. It’s not lust. I mean, yeah, it�
��s there, but this is more. My heart may very well be his. Looking away shyly, he says, “I figured you’d love this as much as I do. I mean, the books in here date back to the early 1700s. Voltaire, James Joyce, Samuel Beckett, Oscar Wilde, W.B. Yeats, C.S. Lewis, Jonathan Swift, Daniel Defoe, loads of Jane Austen… I know your favorite.”

  He must have seen my face light up. “Oh my God, Declan, I am in complete awe. This is amazing.”

  “I’m glad you like it. Come on, let’s go check out the Jane Austen. I think I have a first edition Pride and Prejudice.”

  I halt and throw my hands up in utter shock. “No way!”

  “Yes,” he says, his eyes sparkling as he reaches for my hand. “Go see for yourself.”

  He does have it and when I touch it, a stray tear runs down my cheek. Like everything else in this damn house, it is impeccable, but I can see the wear where someone has read it. Along the front reads Charleston, and I can’t believe I am holding this.

  “Oh my God, I can’t wait to tell my mo—” I stop before the whole word leaves my mouth. My grip tightens on the book, and I take in a sharp breath, trying to compose myself, but I can’t stop the tears from gathering in my eyes. Or falling as my heart feels like it is being ripped out of my chest. My mom would have loved this. She wouldn’t have believed me, but I won’t get that chance to tell her.

  When Declan’s arms wrap around me, squishing me into his chest with the book between us, I want to try to save the book, but I can’t. I can’t do anything because I need his comfort.

  I need him.

  Chapter 18

  Declan

  My lips dust her hair, her temple, and snuggle into her neck as she takes deep breaths, crying into my shoulder. My heart is breaking for her. She tries so hard to be so strong, but the smallest things can just break her sweet, beautiful heart. It honestly kills me because I have no fuckin’ clue what to do. Laying my head against hers, I hold her, no words coming to mind on what to say to her. I’ve never experienced that kind of loss, and I feel a little lost as to how to help her. The book she is holding is stabbing me in the chest, and since I don’t plan on moving any time soon, I slowly remove it, putting it beside us as she continues to sob.

  I will hold her forever if she wants me to.

  The room is completely quiet; the only sound is her sobs. Then, very faintly, I hear her whispering or maybe singing. It’s so faint, but it’s there. I’m not sure if she wants me to hear it, but I want to know, so I get closer to find that she is singing. The song is an old song that my grandda and da would sing when they were shit-faced, “The Parting Glass.”

  I know that my voice is shite, but soon I am singing along with her in the hopes that it helps. Removing her face from my shoulder, she looks up at me with her eyes red and full of tears as her beautiful mouth moves with mine. She sings better than I do, but I don’t think this is the time to tell her that. Soon her tears have stopped falling, and our voices carry throughout the whole room. It’s beautiful.

  When the last note leaves our lips, I cup her face in my hands and lean in to press my lips to hers. She wraps her arms around my neck, holding me close as she takes over the kiss, running her sweet tongue along my lips. My mouth opens and slowly we play, our tongues teasing each other as my heart beats out of control. When she pulls away, I follow her, wanting one more kiss. Her mouth is so sweet, and I want her to know how much I care for her, that I am here for her. She smiles against my lips, but only for a second before she begins to move her lips with mine, deepening the kiss. Parting only for air, I run my thumb along her jawbone, taking in every single feature of her. The freckles, the pain in her eyes, the redness of her lips and nose, the beauty that is Amberlyn.

  “Don’t look at me, I’m a mess. God, I’m so sorry,” she says, looking down at where the book lays.

  “Never,” I say, bringing her face back up. “You’re beautiful, and don’t apologize, Amberlyn. I know it has to hurt, and I don’t want you to hide that from me.”

  She picks the book back up and smiles at it before looking up at me. Her eyes are watery again as she says, “My mom would have loved this. She wouldn’t have believed that I touched it. Thank you, thank you for giving me this moment.

  “Shh,” I whisper, kissing her temple again. “She sees you now. She’s in your heart. Hell, I don’t know if what I’m saying is helping Amberlyn. I’m so sorry.”

  “No, you are. I’m sorry,” she says, waving me off. “This happens sometimes. I just lose it.”

  “And I’ll be here to help you find the pieces and put you back together,” I promise.

  “That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” she whispers. Slowly a tear rolls down her cheek and I catch it, wiping it on my shorts before kissing her lips once more. Mainly because I want to, but also because I have no clue what to say. I didn’t plan to say that to her. It just left my lips. Once it was out there, I knew it was true. I wanted to be the person to wipe her tears, to hold her when she cried, and to be the person she confides in. I want to be the person who helps her heal.

  I think I’ve fallen for her.

  I look up from where I am staring a hole in the ground. My chest hurts, feels like it is cracking open, and I don’t know what that means. Everything is tingling, and I feel dizzy as I hold her gaze. I know she asked me something, but I can’t seem to comprehend what it was. I feel like she’s just kneed me in the gut, and as I look in her eyes, I can’t help but wonder if she feels the same way.

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  “The bathroom? Can I go clean up?”

  “Oh, sure, sorry. Right there.”

  “The library has a bathroom?”

  She says it in awe, and I smile sheepishly. “Yeah.”

  She smiles as she lays the book down like it’s a newborn baby before heading to the bathroom. Once the door shuts, I take in a lungful of air and let it out in a whoosh, repeating the motion as I try to figure out what I’m feeling. Could I have fallen this fast? Surely not, but I sure do think I have. For fuck’s sake, what if she doesn’t feel the same? Normal people don’t fall this quickly, and I’m not sure what I am feeling is real. All I know is that when I look into her eyes…all I see is home. My home. Oh man, I’m fuckin’ long gone!

  When she comes back out, her face is washed clean of makeup and tears. Sitting beside me on the sofa, she reaches for the book again, slowly running her fingers along the binding and words on the front. “It’s so beautiful.”

  “It is,” I agree. “Do you feel better?”

  She nodded. “Yes, thank you. You’re pretty amazing, Declan.”

  “You are, too,” I admit. Thankfully, she flashes me a winning grin as she looks down at the book.

  “I can’t believe I am holding a first edition of my favorite book.”

  “All the first editions are on this wall. My great-great-gran was really into books, so she collected a lot, spent a good deal of money on them, too. My grandda joked that she was the reason we were broke in the eighties.”

  She laughed. “You guys were broke?”

  “Apparently.” I laugh with her.

  When she stands, I stand with her and follow her to the shelves that are full of some of the best books I’ve ever read. When I wasn’t running amok with Kane, I was reading or sitting under the desk in my da’s study, listening to him work. But all in all, reading was a big part of my life. Even when the other kids called me a nerd, I ignored them and escaped to a place where I could get lost in the worlds these amazing authors provided me with. And while each of these books blew me away at one time or another, watching Amberlyn discover each one will forever hold a special place in my heart. She is mesmerizing, gasping and squealing over each one she finds that she loves. It seems that we loved most of the same ones, and with each book comes a story of her ma and da. It is nice and a really great way for me to get to know the Amberlyn before she came to Ireland.

  When she finds The Hobbit, I can see the tears in her eyes as she fal
ls onto the couch and looks up at me. “My dad bought me this book when I was ten. My mom was so mad because she said I was too young for The Hobbit, but he disagreed and so did I!” Her laughter is intoxicating as she slowly flips through the ancient pages. “I stayed up for eighteen hours reading.”

  “I did it in ten, ha!” I tease, and she laughs as I sit down beside her.

  “Whatever. How old were you?”

  “Fifteen.”

  “Ha! I still beat you.”

  “Maybe.”

  “No maybe about it,” she says, playfully pushing me. “What’s your favorite part?”

  “I’m actually reading this again now, and to this day, it’s Smaug. Everything about him is my favorite.”

  She nods, her face so bright and beautiful. “I love Bilbo. He said some of the greatest things that I still hold close to my heart.”

  “Like?” I ask, and a sweet smile covers her lips.

  Clearing her throat, she says, “It’s a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don’t keep your feet, there’s no knowing where you might be swept off to.” I watch as she slowly hugs the book, and when she looks up at me, she whispers, “I told my dad that it was my favorite part of the book because it was all about the adventure, getting mixed up in all the awesomeness of the earth, and he smiled. To this day, I still remember what he said.”

  She bewitches me. The love for literature and her father is evident on her beautiful face.

  Smiling, I ask, “What did he say?”

  “He said it might be a dangerous business but to still allow myself to be swept away. He asked me to never lose my love for adventure, to experience everything that makes me smile. To love with all my heart and to get lost in the things that make my heart race.” She pauses for a second, and then slowly her smile falls as she lets out a long breath. “My mom always said I was a lot like him. That I had this very carefree, adventurous part of me while still keeping my head on straight. When I would come home crying because people would tease me for reading all the time, she promised that one day someone would love that about me.”