Page 86 of On The Rocks

I nodded eagerly, still unable to speak.

He grinned down at me. “Give it a year for me to turn this place around, and I’ll give you some smart, ginger, cute kids.”

I drew a sharp intake of breath, and my chest filled with something I’d never felt before, something light and floaty but substantial enough to fill me up. My husband had just handed me the world, and he didn’t even know it. The last time we discussed our future, he made it clear we had an expiration date. Now he was talking about our family... our forever.

“We better get into the bar.” Callum reached across and tagged the two bottles between the fingers of one hand and heldthe other one out for me. “Come on, wife. I’ve suddenly got a hankering for Ma’s boxty.”

Placing my fingers in his, I jumped down from the table and allowed Callum to pull me toward the door. “These colors look good,” he commented, holding the drink bottles up to the light. “No cloudiness at all. The ale’s lighter than I thought it’d be; it’s more like a pilsner.”

“That’s what I was aiming for,” I confessed. “I looked at your sales reports and saw you go through more lager-type beer than ale or craft, especially in summer. I thought a pilsner would sell better.”

Callum guided me into the courtyard. “Talking of summer, permission came through from the mayor’s office to set up the tables and chairs out front and down the side of the building. We only need one side for access, so I thought I could put a gate in there and fill the other with furniture. Nobody except us lives on Main Street anymore, other than Tristan, and he doesn’t care about a bit of late-night noise as long as things don’t get too rowdy. On weeknights, we can make sure everybody moves inside by ten.”

“We could make a big flower wall and add a load of plants and flowers to make it like a beautiful fairy garden out there,” I suggested. “Imagine all the girls doing their selfies and posting the pictures online and tagging us. All that free advertising.”

We walked inside the bar, and Callum closed the door behind us. “That’s a damned good idea.”

“They have a place like that in New York and London, too. It’s like a flower oasis in the middle of the city. We could brand ours alongside the bar with shamrocks and ivy and use white and cream flowers. It’ll be thebomb.”

He stopped us just before we hit the bar, pulled me around to his front, and the fingers of his free hand splayed over my waist.He bent his neck to lean down and murmured, “My wife, the entrepreneur.”

“I’ve got so many ideas for the bar, Callum,” I told him earnestly. “There’s so much we can do. You love the place; it’s part of you, and I want it to be successful for your sake. I’m not saying everything I try will work, but we can make it everything you want it to be. I want you to have your dream.”

His eyebrows pulled together. “And what about you? What about your dream?”

My lips quirked. “I get smart, cute, ginger babies who aren’t eejits.”

A look of concern crossed his face. “Is that enough?”

“I also get to write my book,” I reminded him. “I get Ma, Donovan, T, and Ash. I get friends,” my smile widened, “and I get you. That’s all I need.”

“What about your career, Maeve?” he asked. “You’ve worked so hard to get where you are. I never wanted you to give it up for me.”

“It doesn’t mean anything if there’s nobody to come home to at night,” I told him quietly. “All my life, I’ve had everything that meant nothing. Now, I get to have everything that means something, at least to me.”

His beautiful, thick-lashed, dark blue eyes searched mine, obviously not convinced.

“Callum,” I breathed, reaching up to smooth out his frown lines. “It’s fine.”

“For now,” he agreed. “But what if you?—”

I jumped slightly, twisting my neck toward the bar as Ma stuck her head into the corridor, her lips thinning when she saw us talking.

“Move your arses,” she scolded. “Your boxty’s getting cold.”

“We’re coming, Ma,” Callum assured her, nodding toward the bar for me to go first. “Maeve’s bottled up her first batch, so we’re gonna do some tasting.”

We moved into the bar, and Maureen glanced back at me approvingly. “You’re a good girl, Maeve. Can’t wait to try them. Imagine if a brewery does pick them up and wants to take them worldwide. You’ll be famous. It’d be nice for one’a my kids to amount to something. Aislynn will be a famous architect one day, but she’s not there yet, so you being a well-known archeologist is a string to my bow. When you’re a famous businesswoman, too, I’ll get a double whammy.”

“What are ya talking about, Ma?” Callum demanded, holding a chair next to a table laden with boxty, homemade bread, and thick creamy Irish butter in a small dish beside it.

Maureen took the seat opposite. “John and Elise Stone have got two doctors, a lawyer, a teacher, and a hundred babies running around. Granted, I’ve got Aislynn, who’s yet to make her mark, but now I have a doctor, too.” Her eyes flicked to Callum, then to Donovan, who was approaching us from the bar, and her lips pursed.

“Ahh, come on, Mam,” Donny said cajolingly. “I risked my life for my country, me and Cal are both successful business owners, and T’s an up-and-coming racecar driver. You did okay, too.”

She sniffed. “That’s grand, but it’s not the same as having a doctor.” Her gaze slid toward me, and she beamed.

“I’m not a medical doctor, though, Maureen,” I pointed out.

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