Epilogue
DONOVAN
Three Months Later
Holding my glass high, I shouted, “Sláinte,” at the top of my voice, grinning as the crowd held their drinks up and yelled it right on back at me.
I threw my whiskey down my neck until I drained the glass and then pounded it on the bar top, letting out a loud hoot. Then I turned and landed a hot, heavy smooch on my wife’s bright red lips, and started making out with her while sitting atop the bar in the Lucky Shamrock.
Wolf whistles and raucous bellows of encouragement filled the room along with the deep timbre of Atlas’s voice yelling, “Put my fuckin’ sister down, ya fucknut.”
I lifted my head and gave Rosie The Smirk before turning to the crowd and yelling, “She’s my wife now. My property. So go fuck yourself.”
“Surprised you haven’t had a conniption by now,” Atlas returned. “Thought that weddin’ ring stranglin’ your finger would have given you a dose of the shakes at least.”
I shot him a cocky grin and shook my head. “I may be shaken, brother, but I’m not stirred.”
Roars of laughter went up, and I muttered, “Best wedding ever.”
The Lucky Shamrock was packed to the rafters. I hadn’t seen this many people here since the night we reopened, all those months ago.
It was hard to believe that Rosie wasn’t in my life then, at least not physically. Still, she’d haunted me, mind, body, and soul, back when I was a bored, disillusioned soldier, looking for a way out of the darkness and into the light.
Rosie reached up and swiped at my mouth with her thumb. “You’re covered in my lipstick.”
I leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose. “Don’t give a fuck.” I pulled back, my gaze sweeping down her short, beaded, low-cut, titty enhancing, sexy, wank-inducing wedding dress. “You look ripe for the plucking, Mrs. O’Shea.”
She made an ‘eek’ face. “That’s the first time I’ve been called Mrs. O’Shea. It’s scary as fuck.”
“Well, it’s too late to change your mind now.”
She giggled. “I’m not sure what we just did was legally a wedding, honey, but meh. Whatever.”
We’d been married while sitting in the exact same positions we were now, by the mayor of Hambleton, about thirty minutes before. We had the appropriate state license, and Abe was ordained, but I wasn’t sure if saying ‘I do’ while sitting atop a bar was strictly legal.
Still, it suited us, and we had the certificate signed by Abe, so as far as we were concerned, we were man and wife. Neither of us cared about a big ‘do’ as Mam called it, though I did tell Posy she could go the whole hog if that was what she wanted.
My woman replied that the cake a big, white wedding would cost us would be better spent on college educations, the mortgage, and new office space for her flourishing business.
Our wedding ended up costing us a grand total of four thousand bucks.
DJ and I got new matching navy-blue Armani shirts.
Rosie, Gabs, and Imogen got new dresses.
The license cost us about a hundred bucks, and the flowers cost five hundred.
Dischordium was playing later for free, and Callum and Maeve donated the booze as a wedding gift.
The biggest expense was the catering, but we were in the throes of winter, so Mam, Iris, and Elise Stone had spent two days making huge catering vats full of Irish beef stew and enough soda bread to feed an army.
The smells coming from the kitchen were making me salivate, and I couldn’t wait to get stuck in later.
Job done.
Mam sidled over, took a stool, and raised her fingers at Adam, who was working the bar while she shouted over the music, “Two double whiskeys and a Pornstar Martini, please, love.”
I deadpanned at Rosie, then turned to Mam. “Two? Doubles? And a cocktail? Are you trying to get langered, woman?”
She whipped around and gave me a sharp slap upside my head.
I ducked and cried out, “What was that for?”
“It’s because you’re a cheeky bollocks.” Ma gestured in the direction of Adam, who was pouring the drinks.
“One of them’s for you, isn’t it, you little fecker?
And we all know our Rosie loves a Pornstar.
Plus, we’re celebrating.” Her eyes softened on me.
“Never thought I’d see the day, my beautiful boy. ”
I shot Rosie a little wink and declared, “I knew three years ago.”
“Why three years ago?” my mother demanded. “What happened three years ago?”
I ducked my head, grinning. “Nothing.”
Ma looked toward the door and bit her lip nervously. “I can’t imagine where Aislynn’s got to. She said she had to work this morning but promised she’d make it in plenty of time. She’s not answering her cell, and nobody’s spoken to her. What if she’s had an accident?”
I leaned across to cover Ma’s hand. “She’ll be okay. Aislynn can look after herself. She’ll walk through the door any minute with a dead phone, covered in engine oil, and wanting to commit murder.”
Mam smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I know. It’s just bad enough that Tadhg couldn’t make it on account of his big race later, but I never expected your sister not to be here.”
I pulled Mam close. “It’s fine.” I swept an arm around the room. “Look, it’s the most informal wedding you’ve ever been to. I only proposed two weeks ago. We were married by the mayor in the family bar. Don’t sweat it. People can come and go as they please. It’s all good with us.”
Mam looked around and smiled to herself. “Everybody’s having a grand time. When you first told me what you wanted for today, I had my reservations, but everybody’s loving how informal it is. Atlas already has his top off. Look.”
The crowd parted to reveal Atlas standing to his full height, holding a bottle of Shamrock Ale in one hand with the other high up in the air.
He was rolling his hips and shoulders to Nelly singing how it was getting hot in here, like some huge, hairy assed version of LL Cool J.
His huge barrel-chest was bare (God only knew where his cut was), and he was down to his jeans and biker boots.
The asshole was surrounded by Cara, Sunny, Gabby, Tristan, and Maeve (and her huge baby belly), who all ground on him like he was some kind of R&B god and they were his video bitches, strutting around him, flicking their hair, and giggling.
“I need bleach for my eyes,” I muttered, turning to Rosie. “And I thought my family were fuckin’ loo-lah.”
She jerked her chin toward her brother. “Who do you think taught him how to dance?”
“Jesus,” I said under my breath. “You created a monster.”
“Talking of creating monsters,” my wife murmured, jerking her thumb.
I followed her direction to see Wilder helping Imogen up onto a table, and my heart gave a panicked thud.
My baby had started walking by herself about three days after we got back to Wyoming from Idaho. There was no stopping her. She was into everything, and we needed eyes in the back of our damned heads.
It wasn’t helped by Wilder Stone, who Immie followed around like he was the Pied fucking Piper. He’d already gone missing at least five times in the last couple of months because he’d taken to walking the three miles from the clubhouse to our place all by himself to see her and not telling anyone.
One morning, Cara had woken up, and he’d disappeared. She couldn’t find him anywhere.
He’d sneaked out at two in the morning, walked to our house, thrown pebbles at Immie’s window, then shimmied up the drainpipe into her bedroom before falling asleep on the floor by her bed.
Only God knew how he didn’t set the alarms off. We only worked out what happened because our security cameras caught him doing his Spiderman impression when he scaled the wall of the damned house.
The kid was a fucking lunatic, but still, as much as my heart was in my mouth watching my baby girl clamber onto that table, I saw Wilder had a tight hold of her.
He’d never let any harm come to my Immie.
“Give me that whiskey, Ma,” I said dryly. “I fucking need it.”
Mam laughed and handed me the glass, then held out a cocktail for Rosie. “Here you go, love. Get that down your neck.”
Rosie looked at it, then her eyes cut to me. “Umm—Errr.”
Mam’s eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong with ya. Have you got the shits or something?”
Rosie’s lips twitched.
I gave my wife a little nudge. “Go on. Tell her.”
“Well...” Rosie began. “We’re not sure yet. We haven’t done the test, but...” Her voice trailed off.
Mam’s eyes went huge, and she breathed, “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.”
“Don’t tell anyone, Maureen. We don’t even know ourselves for sure. I have the test in my bag. I was going to do it later today.” Rosie’s chin dipped. “You wanna do it with me?”
I thought Mam was about to explode with excitement. She wrung her hands together, a huge smile on her face, and whispered, “Sweet baby Jesus. Sweet, sweet, sweet baby Jesus.”
The music quietened, and the sound of clinking glass echoed through the room, followed by my brother's voice calling out, “Can I have everyone’s attention?”
Every eye turned Callum’s way.
He shot me an evil grin. “As Donovan’s unofficial best man, I’d like to step up to the plate and do a little speech.”
Laughter went up along with a chorus of people hollering their encouragement as my brother turned and swept his arm in my direction. “I’d just like to begin by saying we were all young once, so please, no judgment.”
Atlas’s booming chuckle cut through the bar, and his deep voice shouted, “Go on, Cal. Make the bastard squirm.”
My heart sank.
Callum turned back to the room. “I’d like to start off by saying that being Donovan’s brother means my experiences with him growing up were different from most of yours, though I doubt any of you would be surprised at the stupid shit he got up to.
Though I have to say, there’s no brother more generous than Donovan O’Shea.
We shared everything... candy, clothes..
.” His eyes cut to me and flashed wickedly. “...women.”
Rosie pushed out a laugh just as the room filled with catcalls.
“I’ll fecking kill you, Callum O’Shea, you eejit,” Ma shrieked.
I buried my head in my hands because I knew what was about to come, and it was gonna be bad. My mind cast back to Callum’s wedding day, and my best man speech, and I cursed under my breath.
Then, while my brother continued to rip me to goddamned shreds by telling the entire town all about my dirty, deranged exploits over the years, one word filled my head.
Payback.
The End
Thank you for reading.
Donovan and Rosie’s playlist can be found here –