Becoming the Whiskey Princess (39 page)
“Thank you,” I say before they wave and then they are gone.
I’m supposed to wait for the signal to go, and as I sit here, I’m surprised that I’m not the least bit nervous. I’m excited. Ready to start my life with the man I love. I can’t wait to see what our future holds, and while I do miss my family, I have people here who love me and a man who would give up everything just to have me. The man who was made by the hands of God just for me.
Slowly I close my eyes, my fingers tangling in Cathmor’s mane as I send a little prayer up to my mom and dad. For some reason, I can feel them around me. I know they are watching, probably crying in heaven from being so happy for me. I’m living the life they wanted for me. One where I plan on taking more risks than I already have. Where I plan to do something drastic just to drive Declan mad and to make me happy. And one where I will continue to fall in love with the love of my life every single day of my existence. What more could they want?
When Tom, one of the stable hands, whistles, I open my eyes to see that he is waving me on. I kick lightly into Cathmor, and he starts a slow trot as I head toward the field where the person with whom I’m going to start the rest of my life is waiting. The ride isn’t long, and soon all I see are rows and rows of people. They have put up a huge, gauzy-type tent that will shield us some from the sun, but it also just gives a certain elegance to the spot. I know that my mom is probably grinning from the mere perfection of it all. There are fields of white blossoms, so big they look like clouds all over the place. They even are hanging from the gauzy curtains on the tent. It’s gorgeous.
Fiona starts walking down the aisle, looking like a beautiful pink flower floating along the way, but that isn’t who I see first.
No. It’s my groom.
Standing all dashing and commanding the attention of everyone around him is my forever. Clad in a very chic and tailored black suit, I almost bust a gut when I see a black beanie on his head. When he sees me, his face lights up, and there is no way I’m going to make it down the aisle with my makeup in place. His eyes are locked with mine, and I’m not looking anywhere else as our whole love story plays on rewind in my head. I can still remember the first time I saw him, how I hated that damn beanie. But now, I love it and can’t wait to pull it off so I can run my fingers through his spectacular curls. I can still feel his lips against mine the first time we kissed. I remember the first time he touched me and recall the burn of the bullet when I was ready to give up my own life for him. I can still feel him as he laid me down in the field and every time after that. Every stolen glance, every sweet touch, everything, and it was all just so damn perfect.
But now, I’m starting the rest of my life, and it’s bound to be even better.
When Cathmor comes to where I am supposed to get down, gracefully, mind you, I see that he is coming toward me and I’m confused.
“I was supposed to walk down by myself,” I call to him as he reaches up to get me.
He shakes his head as he helps me down. Coming down on my feet, I look up at him, scowling since he was supposed to wait for me. But soon he is cupping my face, grinning at me, and, of course, his grin gets me every time. Clearing his throat, he says, “No, yer never gonna be alone again,
mo stór
, not while I’m breathing.”
My God! Really? Swallowing back my tears, I shake my head as I reach up, pulling the beanie off and throwing it over my shoulder.
“Declan, you’re a dream,” I breathe, and he flashes me a saucy grin.
“Not even close. You’re the dream, my love, simply gorgeous. Ya got me choking up,” he says before kissing my forehead softly. Pulling back, he looks deep into my eyes, and I can see the tears gathering in his own eyes. It hits me straight in the gut, and I honestly don’t know how I am not crying right now.
Probably because I am unbelievably happy.
“Plus, I want to walk with ya into our forever. It’s more for me than you,” he says with a wink as I take his arm, looking up into his beautiful face. As the music starts with something soft and sweet, we head down the long aisle with all eyes on us, but we aren’t looking anywhere but into each other’s eyes.
When a grin pulls at his lips, I squeeze his arm. “What?”
Shaking his head, he says, “Ya came on a horse?”
I smile back. “I did.”
He laughs. “Of course ya would, yer my princess.”
“I am,” I agree, leaning into him. “Because didn’t you hear?”
“Hear what?”
“I’m becoming the Whiskey Princess today.”
“No, the queen, my love, and don’t ya forget it,” he says with a wink.
And as we hold each other’s gaze, love pouring out of us in waves, I don’t even know how I could forget that I’m going to be tethered to him for the rest of my life. Because the Whiskey Prince is no longer just a person, no, he is the one and only love of my life.
And what a love I picked.
You know, I really don’t like acknowledgments. My people know I love them. My family, they know. Friends, they are aware, as are the people who work to make me a success. Everyone knows. So I’m gonna skip that and take a moment to thank you. I really do appreciate everything you do for me. Buying my books, getting lost in my worlds, and loving my characters as much as I do. It’s great, and you truly mean the world to me.
I love this book. I love how it ended, I love Declan, I love Amberlyn. I am so proud of it and a little sad it’s over. In my heart, I don’t think this is the last you’ll see of Declan and Amberlyn, but I don’t know. We will see what happens.
Thank you again.
Love,
Toni
Clipped by Love
(Bellevue 2) Spring 2015
Overtime
(Assassins 7) Spring 2015
And a brand new series is coming in Summer 2015 from Toni Aleo
The Spring Grove Novels
Bring on the cowboys!
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Copyright © 2015 by Toni Aleo Books LLC
This book is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.
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