Chapter 3
DONOVAN
All the research I’d done for my best man’s speech conveyed it shouldn’t be more than eight minutes long, and I couldn’t go too far with the humiliating stories. The biggest no-no was talking about Callum’s past women.
Oops.
When we got back to the wedding with DJ and Gabby in tow, it was almost time to get up and humiliate my brother. I’d prepared for weeks, but still, I’d gone way past my allocated timeslot and I’d also over-shared.
The crowd had loved it, especially Atlas, who I could hear roaring with laughter every time I relayed an embarrassing Callum O’Shea tale.
My big brother looked like he was about to strangle me, and Mam was probably getting the skillet ready to smash my skull to pieces the second I walked off stage.
Ahh well. It was worth it just to see my brother squirm.
Smug bastard.
I leaned into the microphone again, eyeing Cal, who sat down on the dance floor on a throne-like chair alongside Maeve, who had tears in her eyes from laughter (thank God), and then I delivered the punchline.
“So, in light of that conversation, I knew back then that Callum would take Maeve to Ireland for their honeymoon. Especially since he told me he didn’t care where they went, as long as he got to Bangor. ”
Atlas’s guffaw went up alongside a roar of laughter from the crowd.
Maeve buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with her uncontrolled laughter.
Callum glowered.
I didn’t give a fuck. The stupid bastard knew what would happen if he asked me to be best man, and I was about to milk it for all it was worth.
“All joking aside,” I went on. “Callum, I gotta say, brother, you’re the luckiest man in the world.
You get to leave here today with a wife who’s beautiful, kind, caring, and who everybody loves and adores.
Maeve, you’re lucky, too. You get to leave here today with a fabulous dress and the sexiest brother-in-law a girl could wish for. ”
More laughter went up.
I began flicking through congratulatory notes and telegrams that had started arriving a week ago.
“Ma’s family back in Roscommon sends their apologies.
They couldn’t make it today but wish you a long and happy marriage.
The same from Da’s sister in Belfast; Aunt Margaret sends all her love and says she can’t wait to see you when you arrive there on your honeymoon.
” I stopped at the next one and did a theatrical double-take.
“Your old football teammates from college send their apologies, Callum. The boys couldn’t be here today, but they wanted me to pass along a message to Maeve.
” I paused, waiting for the room to quieten down.
“They told me to let you know that he was useless in most positions, and they hope that you have better luck tonight.”
More laughter filled the room, and I heard another roar go up from Atlas.
“Lord deliver me,” I heard Ma cry.
Callum’s cheeks burned.
Maeve almost fell off her chair laughing.
My attention was caught by Mam, who ran her index finger across her throat, simulating what she was about to do to me while she glared daggers. So I put the telegrams down on the table beside me, picked up my glass, and called out,
“Callum and Maeve, may your troubles be less and your blessings be more. May you never lie, steal, or cheat—but if you must lie, be sure to lie with each other every night. If you must steal, steal each other’s hearts every day.
And if you must cheat, cheat death to live a long and beautiful life together.
” Raising my glass high, I yelled, “Friends, family, and loved ones, please join me in raising a glass to the happy couple... Callum and Maeve.”
The entire room stood, raised their glasses, and let out a shout of, “Callum and Maeve,” while my brother tagged his wife’s nape, pulled her close, and landed a hot smooch on her lips.
Applause filled the air while I slugged down the contents of my glass before jumping down from the stage, feeling pretty good for a job well done.
Callum stalked toward me, pulling Maeve with him, and snarled, “I’m gonna fucking kill you.”
“Now now, brother. It’s your wedding day and blood would clash with Maeve’s color aesthetic.”
“I loved the story about Callum shitting his pants because he didn’t want to give up his hide-and-seek position, Donovan,” Maeve piped up, her incredible eyes sparkling. “It was awesome.”
“I was nine!” my bro exclaimed.
“Donovan O’Shea,” my ma hissed from beside me. “You’re a little bollocks, you are.”
I turned and gave her a grin. “Ahh, come on, Mam. It’s my job as best man to tell everyone what an eejit Callum is.”
She shot me some serious side-eye. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” she breathed. “Assist me in my last agony.”
“Lighten up, Ma,” I cajoled, sliding my arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. “Didn’t you like seeing him sweat?”
She sniffed, but I saw a glimmer of a smile play around her mouth. “How did I raise such a total mé féiner?”
I turned my head and kissed her soft cheek, murmuring, “Love you, Ma.”
She rolled her eyes, smiling indulgently. “Love you, too, my boyo.” Her gaze caught on something over my shoulder, and she hitched an eyebrow. “You going to talk to Rosie?”
“Yep,” I replied.
She nodded behind me. “Then you’d better move your arse. It looks like Liam Doyle’s sniffing around her, and if there’s a man alive who could give you a run for your money, it’s that little fecker.”
I craned my neck and let out a grunt when I saw Liam standing close to Rosie near the bar. He leaned down and whispered something in her ear, which must’ve been scintillatingly funny, seeing as she threw her head back and laughed like a loon.
My chest went tight.
“Do you need some help?” Mam asked. “I can lure Liam away from her while you strike.”
Maeve let out a soft giggle. “I think we need to move. Lexi’s team is trying to clear the space for the dance floor.”
Ma eyed Liam Doyle as if she wanted to strangle him. “Let’s go to the bar,” she urged, her tone deceptively sweet.
“Mam,” Callum said, a thread of warning in his tone. “This is our wedding day. Don’t start any shit.”
She waved him off with a nonchalant hand. “It’s an Irish wedding, Son; there’s always a punch-up of some sort.” She grabbed my arm and tugged me toward the bar. “Come on. Let’s go get your girl.”
“Ma,” I hissed as she dragged me. “I don’t need your help.”
She glanced back at me. “If you think the bathroom dirty talk worked, then you’re more loo-lah than I thought. I’ll get rid of Liam, and you move in on Rosie. Ask questions about her mammy and her kids. Make it seem like you’re interested in her life instead of just getting in her knickers.”
I turned my eyes to the ceiling, muttering obscenities under my breath as Mam pulled me closer toward the bar.
Had it really come to this? My mother giving me dating advice. Jesus Christ, talk about scraping the bottom of the barrel. The mighty had well and truly fucking fallen.
“Look interested,” she hissed as we approached Rosie and Liam, who I noticed had slid even closer to Rosie.
“Lots of eye contact and give her your best slow grin. Show her the smile I made your da pay a damned fortune for instead of what he wanted, which was to leave you with those ugly arsed buck teeth.” She cleared her throat and cried out, “Liam! How’s your mammy?
Shame she couldn’t make it; she missed a beautiful wedding.
Doesn’t Maeve look like an angel?” Mam maneuvered herself between Rosie and Liam, effectively cutting off their contact.
“Maureen!” Liam muttered, his eyes squinting as he turned to give Mam a hug.
I took my shot, slid my arm around Rosie’s waist, and swung her toward the bar. “You look like you need another Pornstar, baby.”
She stumbled slightly, glanced behind her, and shot Liam an apologetic smile, then gazed up at me. “Where did you come from?”
I jerked my chin toward Liam, whose eyes were narrowing on me and Rosie over the top of Mam’s head while she metaphorically chewed his ear off.
“I think my performance in the ladies’ room has given her ideas.
” I turned back to the bartender and ordered a beer and a Pornstar Martini before resting my elbow on the countertop so I could stare at her.
Jesus, she stopped me in my tracks.
Rosie was dark and exotic and never shied away from enhancing her beauty with makeup and lashes, though it had to be said, she always looked classy.
Her style was modern and trendy in an Instagram model kind of way, though with her body, she would have made a killing on OnlyFans.
Her beauty, along with her considerable curves, elevated her to a twenty out of ten.
Although Rosie was pure sex on legs, it was her devotion to her family and her kids that impressed me the most. She looked like she should be in love with her own reflection, but she was probably the most down-to-earth woman I’d ever met.
She was confident but self-deprecating, lippy without being a bitch, and strong-willed but soft-hearted.
Rosie Woods was a walking contradiction, and I liked it.
I knew what to expect whenever I was with her, and she made me feel comfortable and safe in her company, like I could just be myself without judgment.
Still, there was something enigmatic about her that kept me guessing, and that appealed to the restless side of me that constantly looked for stimulation.
Plus, that ass of hers was carved by the Gods themselves, and it had to be said; they did a stand-up job of it.
“Why do you keep staring at my tits?” she asked with a cock of her head.
I let out a quiet snort. “I have no idea, seeing as I’m actually obsessed with your ass.”
She smiled proudly. “I work hard at it.”
“It shows.” I lowered my stare to her soft, full, pouty lips, wondering how I’d never noticed how perfectly shaped they were before.
“Stop looking at me like that,” she breathed.