21. Kerry
Kerry
Half of the feckin’ Nameless are staying in my house tonight. Whose idea was this? It’s our feckin’ wedding night! I’ve put them as far away from the master bedroom as possible, but I’m still worried that Amy may feel anxious about fully enjoying ourselves with others around.
Not that she minded Alessandro being in the house the last time I made her scream, but perhaps she’ll feel differently when there’s more people, including her best friend.
I tap my fingers against the table for the bride and groom, feeling the white tablecloth against my fingertips.
I should’ve thought about the little detail of our lack of privacy and gotten a separate place for tonight.
Or insisted that no one be in the house with us.
Amy certainly had enough to worry about, no, I’m the damn dope for not thinking about it sooner.
The catering company brings out the first course, a fresh spinach, beet, and feta cheese salad.
Amy reaches over and lays her hand over mine, stilling my restless movements.
She’s not even looking my way, too busy chatting with Liam and Jack about some Korean television show, but she still sensed my unease and sought to fix it.
I let out a long exhale, instantly feeling the tension that was squeezing my chest loosen.
A soup is served next, a guinness stew in a cheesy bread bowl. I’m pretty sure that Marjorie almost popped a blood vessel with happiness when Amy asked for it. Apparently she’d really liked the stew Marjorie had made for us when we first arrived in Ireland.
“It was so cute that he took the origami that she left in the telephone booth,” Liam says with a wistful sigh.
“Yeah, but that’s how she found out his true identity, so maybe it wasn’t so smart,” Jack counters, crossing his arms.
Amy reaches over with the hand that isn’t intertwined with mine to pat Jack’s arm. “Sometimes you do stupid stuff when you’re in love. That’s the beauty of it.”
I have no idea what they’re talking about, but Amy’s words make me think. She’s not wrong. I used to focus only on logic and efficiency, but that’s only one line of thinking I must consider now that Amy’s in the picture. My world is much bigger now with her in it.
Amy gasps. “We should make Kerry watch it!”
Oh no.
Liam’s entire face brightens like a child on Christmas. “Brilliant idea, lady!”
I glare at my two right-hand men in hopes he’ll get the message to knock it off.
They don’t.
Annoying bastards.
They conspire to when this coerced activity will take place as the main course arrives, a rich and creamy lobster ravioli. Across the garden, Alessandro is loudly complaining that the pasta is overcooked. Something I’m sure that he’ll be sure to let me know all about the first chance he gets.
As I glance around, looking at all these people that have gathered to celebrate Amy and I’s union, a feeling of gratitude wells up within me.
I’ve always been rather irritated by people—and still am, for the record—but I am thankful that they’re here, supporting us, and being somewhat pleasant to be around.
Although they’re still mostly annoying.
By the time we’re finishing up dessert—apple cake with warm custard—a band comes out to play music for us.
It takes all of two seconds before Liam has dragged Marjorie out onto the patio-turned-dance floor and is swinging her around.
My aunt does not look pleased. I can’t blame her, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be enjoying this while it lasts.
Amy pokes me in the arm. I turn and grin at her. “Hm, love?”
“Can we dance?” She leans in to whisper in my ear.
Before Amy, I could think of nothing as horrific as that. But now? Sounds like a feckin’ delight.
I don’t notice it getting dark out. I don’t even notice when our guests begin to trickle out. My mind is consumed with Amy in my arms and the rhythm of the fiddle.
By the time Amy waves me off before another song can start, laughing as she tries to catch her breath, most everyone is gone, and the staff Marjorie hired has cleaned up everything.
I’m more exhausted than I’d like to admit as we head inside the house.
This wedding stuff is a tiring business.
I handle a mafia empire on a day-to-day basis, ordering executions, arranging gun shipments, bribing the Garda.
But a wedding? Apparently that’s what it takes to tire me out. I could sleep for a week.
But I’m not going to. Not until I make sure my wife is loved and satisfied.
I watch from the kitchen as Amy and Lily walk through the garden, their silhouettes illuminated by the string lights above.
They give a wide berth to the staff who are still finishing up cleaning and putting everything away.
I left the double doors that lead out into the garden wide open on purpose to give me a clear line of sight on them, not willing to let my Amy out of my sight for even a moment, not so soon after our wedding.
They’re hand in hand, chatting like they don’t have a care in the world. They have a lot to catch up on.
Lily is lucky that she’s so important to my leannán and they won’t get to see one another for some time. Otherwise, I would’ve told her to feck off and dragged my wife up to our bedroom without a second thought.
Liam and Jack are with me, eating even more of the wedding cake and talking about some video game they’re both enjoying at the moment. I don’t see Lily’s watchdog anywhere, which is confusing. The man barely left her side the entire night.
“Where’s Rostova?” I interrupt my two right hand men’s chatting.
They both look up from their plates, Liam with his fork halfway to his mouth, as if they’re both surprised I’m addressing them instead of continuing my brooding. “Um…up on the balcony upstairs?”
I arch a brow at the two of them. “He’s just watching them?”
Both men snicker, and Liam stuffs the fork in his mouth before he can reply.
I arch a brow. “What? Why are you two snickering?”
Jack lifts up one of his shoulders in a half-shrug. “Well, boss…you’re kind of doing the same thing, aren’t you? You’ve been just sitting there staring for the past fifteen minutes.”
The accuracy of his statement burns the back of my neck for a moment. I scratch my head and wince. “All right, that is a good point. I hadn’t thought about it like that.”
Liam chuckles and shrugs. “Just two husbands looking after their wives, that’s all I see.”
I arch a brow. “Don’t you think that our situations are a bit different? He’s controlling his wife. I care about mine and want to make sure she’s okay.”
Both men snicker again, like they’re in on an inside joke that I’m not a part of. “Hm. Maybe.”
“No, no maybe. What are you two laughing about now?” I lean against the counter and glare at them.
Jack laughs and shakes his head. “We’re rather used to being around a man that doesn’t show his feelings, you know. We can tell when someone is keeping their cards close to their chest. It’s strange that you can’t see the similarities. You’d think that like would recognize like.”
I grunt, about to snap at them to mind their own business, when Amy and Lily step through the open doorway. All arguments die on my tongue. “Well, I’m headed to find my husband and go to bed,” Lily grumbles and hugs Amy one last time before heading upstairs.
Liam chuckles. “She doesn’t like that guy, does she?” He asks once Lily is gone.
Amy sighs and looks back at us. “It’s…complicated.”
I push off the counter and hold out my hand to her. “But you know what’s not complicated? My desire to spend my wedding night with my wife. You two, go home. Rest. You’ve been working hard.”
I’ve never seen Liam and Jack hurry to leave so quickly before. Except for the fact that Jack grabs some more cake for both of them.
Bastards.
Amy and I watch them go, and when they shut the door behind them, I tug her forward by the hand and kiss her with a softness that doesn’t betray any of the hunger I feel for her. I’m trying to be good. At least until we get to our bedroom.
She smiles up at me and yawns. “I’m exhausted. It was such a wonderful day. Thank you, Kerry.”
I scoff and cup her cheeks. “I should be the one thanking you. You did most of the hard work and planning for this beautiful day.”
She shakes her head. “Marjorie helped so much, and you helped make decisions, too.”
I run my thumb over her bottom lip. “You should know better than to discount yourself by now, leannán. You know I won’t let that happen. You deserve better.”
She chuckles and leans into my hand that’s still cupping her cheek. “You’re a good man, you know that? More than you give yourself credit for.”
I lean down and kiss her nose. “Because you deserve a good man to love you, leannán. And I’ll be damned if I give you anything less than the absolute best. Now, how about that wedding night?”
She laughs as I pull her by the hand, heading upstairs. “Lily told me that you put her and Ruslan just about as far away as you could.”
I flash her a grin as I open the heavy bedroom doors. “I wanted some privacy with my wife, is that so bad?”
She smiles at me as we step into our bedroom and I close the door behind us, locking it. “You keep calling me that.”
“Is that not what you are?” I arch a brow and pull her into me so our bodies are flush, making her look up at me.
She laughs, a free and happy sound. It reminds me of when she was laughing with Marjorie and her dog, light and carefree. My chest feels warm at the thought that she feels that way with me on the day of our wedding. “Yes, but you just keep repeating it.”
I kiss her forehead. “Well, maybe it’s my new favorite word.” I gently push her forward until the back of her knees hit the bed. “Just how tired are you, exactly?”
“Why?” She grins at me, fully knowing why I’m asking.
I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, brushing her fingers with my knuckles. “Because I need to know just how much I can savor the way you taste. How much time can I take? How slow can I go?”