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I step closer and pull her into me. "No. And let's have fun tonight. After all, it's our rehearsal dinner, and we only get one."
She rolls her eyes, but a smile appears on her lips. "Okay, fine."
I kiss her, and she doesn't retreat, which makes me happy. I pull back. "Let me get ready." I go into the closet and pull out my suit. I put it on, and we leave the room.
We walk through the mansion, then slide into the car waiting outside.
The driver takes us to the James Street for the rehearsal dinner. While we both wanted an intimate affair, my dad insisted on inviting all his contacts. It quickly got out of control, but Maeve told Dad it was okay, which only made him sweeter on her. So we moved the rehearsal dinner to James Street and chose The Treehouse for tomorrow night's reception.
When we step inside the restaurant, my gut tightens.
Malachy is already there. He's got a glass of whiskey in his hand and I want to punch him, but Maeve looks so happy.
She throws her arms around him, hugging him. "Da, I'm so glad to see ya."
He hugs her back. He doesn't appear drunk, but I make a note to stay by Maeve's side and keep an eye on him.
We move through the room, talking to guests until she has to go to the restroom. I lead her to it, and my dad comes up to me while I'm waiting for her.
He announces, "You've got to say hi to Mac. He's not feeling well and needs to leave."
It's one of his old cronies. He's so old he can't really walk. His mind's still there, but his body's failing him. I'm surprised he's here at all.
"Where is he?" I question.
Dad points across the room. "Over there."
I glance at Mac. He's got oxygen attached to his nose and doesn't look well. I state, "I'll wait until Maeve comes out."
"She'll be fine. It'll just take a minute. He's not going to last much longer. Let's go," Dad orders.
I decide not to argue. I do my duty and pay my respects to Mac. He gets ready to leave, and I glance over toward the restrooms.
Maeve is arguing with her da.
My pulse increases. I excuse myself from the conversation and beeline over to her.
Maeve declares, "It doesn't give ya the right to place bets."
Malachy argues, "Aye, it does. He'll cover me to make ya happy."
Anger fills me. I grab Malachy by the neck and shove him against the wall.
Maeve cries out, "Tynan, don't!"
Malachy's face turns red, and he sputters for air.
I seethe. "You're making bets thinking that I'm going to pay them?"
"Tynan, please," Maeve begs.
Malachy can't talk. I've cut off his air. I'm ready to kill him.
"Whoa, not here," Brody instructs, pulling me off him.
Malachy steps away from the wall, and Maeve glances between us, a tear streaming down her cheek.
I hate that she's crying. I detest she allowed me to bring this man into our world. He doesn't belong here or near her. He never will.
