Whiskey Rebellion (Taking Risks Book 3)

by Toni Aleo

  It was getting a bit annoying and putting all kinds of pressure on me.

  “All the food is here, and the drinks are on this page.” I watch as she goes through the system, and I’m pretty much good. When she finishes, the front door opens, and in comes a little old lady, her face bright as she and Mrs. Maclaster hug tightly.

  “That Mrs. Kacklemore, or Mrs. K. She comes in every Wednesday at this time, and she’ll have the pie and a glass of OC on the rocks.”

  “What’s OC?”

  “It’s the first whiskey the O’Callaghan’s put out.”

  “Cool,” I answer as I show her I know what I’m doing. When the receipt comes out, she smiles as she takes it from me.

  “We might make it, Jackson.”

  “That’s the plan.”

  She flashes me a grin as she puts the receipt on the pin that is in front of the carry-out window. “I’ll get her taken care of. Can you stock tubs?”

  I don’t understand what she is saying until she points to the refrigerator trays. “Yeah, no problem. More oranges than lemons, right?”

  “You listened.”

  “I did,” I answer, and she laughs.

  “Yes, thank you.”

  I nod as I grab both of them and head to the back through the swinging door as Fiona follows behind me for a piece of pie. I don’t pay her any mind and appreciate when she doesn’t hover. She’s actually been way easier than the other pub owners I’ve worked with. After gathering everything, I get to work cutting and putting everything into its spot in the tubs, as Fiona called them. This is always boring busywork, and usually, I hate it, but then the conversation from the pub finds its way to me.

  “Yes, Shelia. I no lie. It’s right here. Look.”

  “My goodness! What was the lass thinking? Her ma here, dying, and she’s off whoring around?” Mrs. Maclaster adds, and I hear Fiona moan loudly.

  “You’s shouldn’t be talking about Lena like that. It’s all rubbish!” At the mention of Lena’s name, I can’t help but get closer so I can hear. “She’s family, ya know.”

  “Ah, hush, girl,” Mrs. Maclaster scolds. “I just don’t understand. Everything was so quiet when she was in Dublin.”

  “Yeah, but then she went to London and went a bit crazy!”

  “It’s just so hard to believe.”

  “She apparently had nineteen lovers. One said she didn’t even know who he was when they woke up together.”

  “No!” Mrs. Maclaster gasps, and I make a face. Am I a part of those nineteen, or am I twenty and they don’t know about me? Even I don’t believe this shit. That girl wasn’t really a whore.

  “I don’t believe it. She’s such a sweet lass. So regal, like her ma.”

  “I heard she’s lost it. Went off the deep end, ya know.”

  Then Fiona is speaking. “Maybe she just went and lived her teenage years since she was set to marry that wanker? You’s don’t know anything, and the Royal Times is a bunch of shite. They said Amberlyn was pregnant for months before she even got pregnant. I don’t believe it.”

  “I tell ya, girl, it’s true. Right around the time Casey Burke got out of jail.”

  “Ah! Yeah. Six months ago, yeah.”

  “Casey Burke is nothing to someone like Lena. Please.”

  Who’s Casey Burke?

  “No! It’s true. I saw her at the train station. She looks as if she’s been run through by a rugby team.”

  That had all the ladies laughing, but it kind of bothered me. Lena didn’t look like that at all. She looked like she didn’t give any of the fucks anymore, not that she was sleeping with God and everybody as they made her seem. I want so desperately to say something, but since I’m number twenty, apparently, I should keep my mouth shut.

  “I don’t believe—” When Fiona’s voice drops off, I peek out the window to see people entering.

  And when Lena appears out from behind some really tall guy, I fall face first into the prep table. “Fuck,” I mutter as I close my eyes. That hurt really bad.

  “Ah! Declan, Amberlyn! Oh, Lena, we didn’t know you were coming,” Mrs. Maclaster calls.

  “Yeah, I’m hiding from me ma. She’s a bit upset with me.”

  God, she has such a sweet-sounding voice.

  “Oh, no,” old Mrs. Kacklemore says. “She see the papers?”

  “It’s a bunch of rubbish, that paper is,” a very low and commanding voice announces. “Ya best to stop reading it, Mrs. K.”

  “I hear ya, Declan, I hear ya.”

  “Well, nonetheless, we’re glad to have ya. Ya look fit, beautiful as always.”

  “Thanks,” Lena says then as chairs move, and soon everyone is talking. I can’t make out who is who, and I really don’t know what to do. Do I finish and take the trays out? Or do I stay back here? Why don’t I want to go out there? I wanted to see her, but not like this. I don’t want to embarrass her.

  “So, a nice holiday, Lena?”

  “Yeah, it was nice, thank you, Mrs. Maclaster. Fiona, this Cathmor is top, yeah?”

  “It’s an original,” I hear Fiona call from the bar. “I’ve got an in with the owner.”

  Declan chuckles. “Yer lucky I have to give that to you.”

  “Have to? No. You want to ’cause yer married to my cousin.”

  “That’s why I’ve got to, or she’ll hold out on me!”

  Laughter fills the pub.

  “Y’all are insane,” a very American voice says. “Lena, would you like to hold Ronan?”

  “Always,” Lena says. “You don’t have to ask, Amberlyn. Ever. Just hand him over to his aintín, ya sweet bae. Aintín loves you so.”

  Ah, that cooing voice of hers will be the death of me.

  When the door opens, I look up to see Fiona coming through. She makes a face, and I stand up. “I dropped something.”

  “Well, ya gotta find it, please.”

  “Oh, yeah,” I say, dropping to the floor to look for the something I dropped. Without a second glance, she whizzes out of the kitchen and then back in as the conversation continues in the pub. Making sure I’m out of the way, I keep cutting as I listen.

  “She’s in fits with me ’cause I didn’t go to the appointment with Franco this morning,” Lena says with a laugh.

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “I didn’t want to. I don’t want my hair done or to wear dresses that will be too tight, and she’ll bitch at me some more. I just need another week before I have to become her.”

  Declan laughs. “Ya can postpone meeting with Franco all ya want, but she’ll get ya in there, and then that’s that.”

  “Yeah, I know. But until then, I’m going to wear everything she hates and not do my hair.”

  More laughter until Mrs. Maclaster says, “It’s so strange not seeing ya done up, Lena.”

  “Yeah, but it’s feckin’ grand.”

  “Lena! Yer mouth,” Mrs. Maclaster scolds, and Lena laughs.

  “Sorry, I forgot where I am.”

  “You’d never curse before,” Mrs. Kacklemore says, and just like that, a silence falls over the crowd. When I peek out, everyone is watching Lena like she is a science experiment. I can’t help but drink in her beautiful face, her blue eyes, and that hair that I swear is longer than the last time I saw her. I glance to the portrait on the wall, where she is all made-up, and I don’t know which one makes me want her more.

  Or if it’s just her.

  When the door opens again, I quickly shut the trays as Fiona gives me yet another look. “What is wrong with you?”

  “Nothing.”

  She rolls her eyes. “I’ll take those, and you start bringing those plates out. Set them on the bar, then get the ice for the chest, yeah?”

  “Yeah,” I say as she disappears once more.

  I do as she asks, my head down as I set each plate on the bar. When Fiona meets me halfway, taking two of them, I rush back into the back with the bucket in hand for the ice. Heading to the ice machine, I replay everything I just h
eard. I don’t understand why everyone is so taken aback by how she is acting. I was turned on. I wanted so badly to take her in my arms, kiss that pouty mouth of hers. Tell her that I didn’t believe anything anyone had said about her. That I thought she was amazing, and that I was really sorry for calling her a whore.

  But for as much as everyone else was saying it, I’m surprised she was offended.

  Also, does that mean it’s true?

  No. It can’t be. Can it?

  Shit.

  Gathering the ice, I start back to the front, hoping everyone is still engrossed in their food and doesn’t notice me. Just as I reach the door, though, I hear Fiona say, “I replaced ya, Amberlyn.”

  She’s answered with the clink of a fork as Amberlyn says, “I heard! Are you happy with them?”

  “Yeah, he’s great. Smart and quick as a whip. He’ll do.”

  “He isn’t you, sweetheart,” Mrs. Maclaster says, and Amberlyn laughs.

  “Well, duh. Where is he?”

  “In the back getting ice.” I hear her pause, and I don’t move. What if they’re waiting for me to come out? Crap. Should I run? But Fiona goes on, “He’s only here for three months, which sucks since I’ll be on the lookout for someone else then.”

  “Can you maybe convince him to stay longer?”

  “No, he’s on holiday.”

  “And he’s working?” Declan asks. “I don’t work on my holidays.”

  “Because you don’t take them,” Amberlyn teases, and she’s answered with laughter.

  “Holiday?” Lena asks. “That’s interesting. He the phanny with the tent?”

  “Yeah,” Fiona laughs. “I told him he’s gonna freeze. He doesn’t listen.”

  “He works up at the stables too,” Lena says. “Pip was telling me about him.”

  “Well, now I gotta meet him. Where is he?” Declan asks, and my eyes widen.

  “Heya, Jackson!”

  Fuck!

  “Jackson?”

  It’s Lena, and everything goes as cold as the ice I’m holding.

  “Yeah, Jackson, shite, I forget his last name. Heya, Jackson! Where ya at?”

  I hear her footsteps, and I start to panic, but then, why? Lena probably won’t even act like she knows me. Hell, if she’s been with that many guys, she probably doesn’t even remember me. Why am I stressing myself out?

  Because you care and you’re a softy.

  I am.

  Swallowing hard, I call out, “Yeah, I’m coming.” Fiona opens the door, and I meet her with a nervous smile. “Hey, sorry, I got lost.”

  “No worries. Come on out, meet the lot.”

  My heart is in my throat, my stomach is in knots, and when Fiona moves out of the way, my eyes don’t go anywhere but straight to Lena. When Lena looks up, her eyes lock right on mine, and it’s like the breath is being knocked out of me.

  And her.

  Just like before, it all starts happening. My body goes taut, my heart is pounding, and I want nothing more than to kiss her. Touch her. When her eyes widen and her mouth parts, I find myself holding my breath.

  “Holy. Fuck.”

  Okay, maybe she does remember me.

  No.

  No no no no no no no no no…

  Shit.

  It’s him.

  Jackson.

  When everyone whips around, gawking at me, I look to Ronan and secretly apologize in my head. Sorry, bae, I do love you so. “Oh! I thought he was about to puke on me!”

  Amberlyn gets up, rushing to me with a wipey. “Is he okay?”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah, made me a wee bit uneasy,” I laugh nervously as I hold him to me, and when I look back up, Jackson’s eyes trap mine once more. Oh, good Jaysus. I don’t remember him being that feckin’ hot. I mean, that shirt should be illegal at best. It’s tight, hugs his shoulders, and stretches over his chest. His jeans are tight too, molding to his thighs, and he has a rag over his shoulder, all bartender-sexy.

  Ah, fuck, I’m dripping for him.

  Shite! Did he tell everyone he slept with me?

  Looking to Amberlyn, I hand Ronan off since I feel dirty. “Yeah, sorry, I don’t do puke,” I say quickly as Declan stands, holding his hand out to Jackson. Jackson takes it, his gaze leaving mine to meet my brother’s as they greet each other. All I can do is try to breathe. He’s here. Jackson is here. The guy who called me a hoor is here.

  “I haven’t even fed him yet,” Amberlyn says, and I nod quickly.

  “Yeah, I don’t know. Makes me nervous.”

  She sends me a grin. “You’re so silly.”

  I throw my hands up. “Yup, me silly!” When I start to laugh, even Declan looks back at me with his brow up, confusion swimming in his features before he glances back at Jackson.

  And again, my eyes fall to his shoulders. I held those shoulders as he fucked me as hard as I wanted. I kissed that mouth; I felt him on me. Oh my. He’s in my town. Shite, that stupid paper came out. What has he heard? I was rumored to be one hell of a hoor, coming home with all sorts of STDs. I bet he got an earful, especially with that old bat, Mrs. K, here. She and Mrs. Maclaster are always running at the mouth.

  “Yeah, I wasn’t going to come here. I was going to go to Scotland, but I met this really gorgeous girl in, um, England, and she told me I’d never find another place like Mayo.”

  “Well, she was right,” Mrs. K gushes, but I’m still caught on what he said.

  A really gorgeous girl.

  He thinks I’m gorgeous?

  “Who is she?” Fiona asks. “We all know everyone. Who do we know that was in England last?”

  I don’t miss the way Declan looks back at me as Jackson blurts out, “Oh, I don’t know her name. It was just in passing. She wouldn’t have anything to do with me.”

  “What? You? You’s handsome,” Mrs. K says, and everyone chuckles softly, but I’m watching how Jackson’s face warms with color.

  Good Jaysus, he’s stunning.

  I’m breathing heavily, a hot coil of heat gathering in my gut as I watch him. I don’t know what this magnetic pull is he has on me, but feckin’ hell, he’s got me. His gaze falls on me a few times, but he’s mostly looking at Declan and then Amberlyn as she asks about Rome and Paris.

  “We’ve been there, but only for short trips. He’s busy, and so am I. I run the library down the road.”

  “Oh, yeah, I went there the other day. I needed a book to get me through these cold nights.”

  He reads. Swoon.

  “Well, it’s great to meet ya,” Declan says, and Jackson nods.

  “Yeah, you guys too.” With that, he turns on his heel, heading behind the bar. All I can do is drink in every single muscle that gathers in his back as he picks up the ice bucket to dump it in. Licking my lips, I can’t tear my gaze from him. He moves with ease, and I don’t know how I didn’t notice that the day I saw him in the pub in London. Maybe because when I got there, he didn’t move. He stayed right in front of me, his gaze locked on mine and mine with his.

  “Lena, ya gonna eat?”

  I look over to Declan and shake away all the dirty thoughts I have in my head before I reach for my fork. “Yeah, shite.”

  “Lassie! That mouth,” Mrs. K complains, and I roll my eyes.

  “Ah, who cares? I’m a grown woman, and Fiona curses more than everyone at this table.”

  “I do,” Fiona says simply.

  “You’s a lady, though!”

  “So?” I ask and Declan glares.

  “Lena?”

  “What?”

  But before either of us can say anything more, Fiona balks, “What the hell? I’m a lady!”

  Thankful to get the attention off me, I glance at the bar where Jackson is cleaning out a mug, his eyes trained on me. Heat runs down my body as I watch him, and when a slow grin pulls at those naughty lips of his, I fight for my next breath. Slowly his tongue comes out, wetting his lips as his eyes darken even more. I squeeze my thighs together, inhaling shakily as his lips move
slowly.

  Sorry.

  Closing my eyes, I look down at my plate. Is he apologizing for what happened in London? I think he is. Shaking my head, I know there is only one thing to do. Throwing my napkin to the table, I stand up as I say, “Excuse me, I need to go to the loo. Fiona, can I use the back loo?”

  She waves me off since she is still arguing with Mrs. K, and when I glance to Declan, he is holding Ronan, kissing his sweet little face. Knowing I can get away easily, I start around the table and through the pub, my eyes meeting Jackson’s in a fiery stare. He breathes forcefully as he watches me. I cock my head toward the back, and he nods once as I go through the door. Heading around the kitchen area, I ignore the stares of the kitchen staff and head out by the loo, which is right next to the back door. When I see him coming down the hall toward the loo, I go out the door. He joins me, shutting the door behind us. I look around, making sure no one is out here, but it’s the back, and usually no one comes out here unless they need to throw out trash.

  Glancing back to Jackson, I say, “Well.”

  “Yeah, wow.” He chuckles nervously, tucking his hands into his pockets. “I hadn’t thought I’d see you again.”

  I shrug. “I thought the same.”

  “It’s good to see you, though,” he says softly, and I don’t miss the blush along his cheeks. He hasn’t shaved, hair growing along his jaw and above his lip. He looks rugged, and it’s messing with me.

  “Yeah, you too,” I somehow get out. He slowly nods, and I do the same. “I went back to the bar.”

  “You did?” he asks, his brow rising a bit. “Why?”

  “I wanted to see ya. Apologize for calling ya a bag of dicks.”

  He laughs. “But that was my favorite part.” We share a small smile. “I deserved it. I’m really, really sorry for what I assumed and what I said.”

  I shrug. “There may have been a bit of truth to your words. I wasn’t the best version of meself in London.”

  As soon as the words leave me mouth, he is shaking his head, taking a step toward me. “Don’t even say that. It isn’t true. I was wrong.”

  “I went to bed with ya maybe twenty minutes after I met ya.”