For the first time in my life the fairy tale feels like it might just be on the verge of becoming a reality.
A warm buzz crusades through my blood, heating me from the inside out. It could be the champagne, but I suspect it has more to do with Cillian spinning me round the floor like Michael Flatly. Yep, he has no problem dancing with me. We’ve been at it for hours.
‘I never knew you could dance so well.’ I laugh, gasping for breath.
‘Baby, you know I’ve got rhythm.’ Cillian lifts my arm and twirls me around before tugging me tightly back against his torso. His hooded eyes darken with desire.
‘Look at the kids!’ My dad yells to my mother, whirling her around next to us.
Anyone would think they were the kids.
‘And you told me that love doesn’t last?’ I nod towards my parents, who are grinning at each other like they’re the newlyweds. ‘Forty years married next year.’
‘They’re a great advertisement for it,’ Cillian concedes.
‘Or a great advertisement for Viagra.’
‘Both. But please, if you see your dad popping any pills can we leave because I’m still traumatised from the time we dropped your mother off after the hen night.’
I cover my mouth with my hand. ‘Two pieces of advice I probably should have given you before bringing you home. Watch where you’re sitting, and never look down.’
‘I don’t know if that’s gross, or impressive.’ Cillian snorts.
‘I think it’s both. Can we please get a drink?’ I motion towards the bar.
‘Sure.’ He winds his arm around my neck as we weave and bob through the crowd.
My sister Faith is dancing with her husband, Dermot, but they don’t share nearly the same level of enthusiasm as our parents. Faith glances up at him, but he’s staring over the top of her head watching Holly’s two bridesmaids Savannah and Ashley. Savannah must say something funny because Ashley clutches her stomach and guffaws.
‘Isn't Ashley the principal of Phoebe’s school?’
‘She is.’ Cillian raises a hand in greeting, but we keep nudging our way through the throngs of bodies in search of a drink.
Bonnie is at the bar, dressed to kill in a Shona Joy fluted-sleeve maxi dress. She’s wrangled herself in amongst a cluster of Nate’s Hollywood pals from his latest action movie. I met them at the premiere and they’re the sleaziest players around. Bonnie is biting off more than she can chew.
They’re lining up shots with zero regard for the headache they’ll have tomorrow.
‘Isn't that your PA over there?’ Cillian raises his eyebrows as Bonnie licks the back of her hand, knocks back her shot, and then bites the lemon wedge in her other hand. She shakes off the sourness with a full body jiggle that has the men around her gawking at her cleavage.
‘PA, friend, sister from another mister.’ I shrug. ‘Call her what you like, but from the glassy look in her eyes, the only accurate name for her is drunk.’
I lead the way, tugging Cillian’s hand from behind until we’re wedged into the bar next to Bonnie and the boys.
‘Ava!’ She wobbles as she grabs my arms like she hasn’t seen me in years instead of an hour. ‘Have you met Dax and Carter and …’ She squints at the third guy and hiccups. ‘Jackson?’
I smile at the boys. ‘We’ve met. How are you all? Welcome to Ireland.’
‘Such a beautiful country,’ Dax says, resting his elbow on the bar counter.
‘Yes, the scenery is outstanding,’ Carter adds, leering at Bonnie.
Jackson steps forward, offering an arm out to steady my swaying friend. ‘And the locals are so hospitable.’
‘Oh, you haven't seen anything yet.’ Bonnie wiggles her hips.
Cillian and I exchange a look of concern. Bonnie is unashamedly sexually liberated, but I don’t think she’s any match for these three, especially given how much she’s had to drink. ‘Bonnie, maybe we should go to the bathroom and freshen up?’
I reach for her but Jackson clings on tightly to her. ‘She’s fine, aren't you, babe?’
