The Cassidy Brothers

by Sienna Blake

  “Perfect,” I said. I stretched up on my tiptoes, reaching, but I wasn’t quite tall enough.

  Tristan’s fingers brushed mine as he took the ornament from my hand and hooked it into place. Once again, he’d known what I needed and given it to me without my having to ask. My heart fluttered.

  When I looked over at Tristan, he was already watching me. His body was lightly pressed against mine, the proximity making me feel like my eggnog really did have alcohol in it. We were so close, I could see that his blue eyes had flecks of green, something I’d never noticed before. I couldn’t seem to stop staring.

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  His head dipped in the smallest of nods. That was Tristan. Only talking when he needed to. Always listening more than he talked. Knowing more than he let on.

  I wanted him to let me in, I realised. I wanted to know him as much as he seemed to know me. I wanted to open him up and read him like my favourite book. I wanted to turn his whispers into groans. To hear this quietly reserved man lose control.

  But I couldn’t.

  I shouldn’t.

  I broke eye contact and moved away from Tristan. And Donncha. And Aogán.

  I mumbled some excuse about making more eggnog and got the hell out of that living room.

  In the safety of the kitchen I forced myself to calm down, taking long deep breaths. Wanting three men. Three brothers…

  What was wrong with me?

  Tristan

  “This is bad,” Aogán said, rubbing his temples with the tips of his fingers. “I’m going to have to make some hard decisions.”

  Donncha let out a sigh and clenched his jaw. “We need to make these decisions. You might be the CEO, but this is a family business. If things are this dire, we should all three be a part of the solution.”

  “You don’t want to be a part of this,” Aogán argued. “I’m talking about possible lay-offs here.”

  Donncha looked surprised. “You really think that will be necessary?”

  I didn’t like the sound of that. Guilt weighed heavily on my shoulders. Aogán might feel like everything was his responsibility, but I knew that the company’s recent failures were my fault. I was the one that had lost my passion for the job. My heart wasn’t in it anymore, and my brothers didn’t even know it.

  “I don’t know, damn it,” Aogán snapped, his fist pounding against the dining room table. “This is turning into a serious situation. We might not have a choice.”

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” I suggested. Donncha and Aogán usually got carried away in these conversations, each trying to outdo the other instead of working together. I found that it was best to choose my words wisely so that I didn’t make a tense situation worse. “Lay-offs should be a last resort.”

  “Agreed.” Donncha nodded.

  “Agreed.” Aogán nodded. “The way I see it, we simply can’t afford another flop. For whatever reason, the last couple of big launches weren’t profitable. We’re still a successful toy company overall. We just need to keep moving forward, keep innovating, or we’ll stagnate and die. It’s not just our jobs on the line. We have hundreds of employees all over the world.”

  “So, no pressure,” Donncha said sarcastically before taking a long sip of his Jameson.

  “Listen, we’ve got the licencing rights to the toys for that new superhero movie coming out next month. The fanbase is huge, so we’ll do well from that. But we need to start development on the next big thing as soon as possible.”

  “When should we release this miracle toy that will turn things around?” Donncha asked, taking notes on a pad of paper in front of him.

  “March.”

  My eyes widened. That meant the clock was ticking and we were already behind. I had to come up with a great toy design by Christmas to give our team time to get it mass produced and in stores by then. I had people’s jobs on the line. A tight feeling started to form in my chest. I didn’t have any new toys in mind, nothing that would be a big enough hit to make up for our last quarter.

  “Tris, I’m not expecting a miracle. But it does need to be a success. Think you can produce something in the next couple of weeks?” Aogán looked at me expectantly.

  No.

  “I’ll… I’ll work on it,” I said, careful not to promise anything.

  “Well, now I’m instilled with confidence,” Donncha snarked, pursing his lips.

  I ignored him as I stood up from the table, tapping my knuckles twice against the wood top before walking away. Neither of them stopped me. They knew better than to try.

  Both of my brothers were hanging all their hopes on a new toy, on me. That was the only reason Aogán had included me in this strategising session. He couldn’t create and market a toy on his own, otherwise he’d have tried to take care of everything himself. Aogán was like that, always trying to take on the world alone. Surely it’d prove to be too much for him.

  I was trudging up the stairs to my room when I looked up and caught sight of Orla at the top landing. She was a vision in a white sweater with her flaming hair flowing down to her elbows. She smiled at the sight of me and the burden I was carrying felt lighter, if but for a moment.

  “Have a nice nap?” I asked, trying to make small talk, even though I was usually terrible at it. Orla had lain down in the afternoon, right after lunch. She claimed that she was just tired, but she also had barely touched her food. I was starting to suspect that she was hiding something...

  “Yeah, it was great. Did I miss anything?”

  Just the potential demise of The Three Bears, and it’s all my fault. “Nope. Nothing.”

  I continued up the stairs, brushing past her as she made her way down. My blood ignited even with such brief contact. I almost turned around after her. But I stopped myself. The last thing I needed right now was a distraction. I was already going to have a hard enough time designing a new product. So I continued on toward my bedroom without looking back.

  Aogán

  “Are you sure about this?” Orla asked as she sat behind the wheel of my SUV, adjusting the side mirrors.

  No, I’m not. But I had talked myself into it anyway. I told myself that a couple of driving lessons would give Orla the confidence to drive herself into town on the country road that was usually deserted. That meant that she wouldn’t need me to drive her. That would make it easier to stay away from her.

  Yeah, except now I was in the cabin of a vehicle with less than two feet of space between us. I could almost feel the body heat radiating from her, making the urge to touch her nearly unbearable.

  “Just don’t wreck my damn car,” I muttered, annoyed at her for smelling so damn good. And for having such a pretty profile, especially when she chewed her bottom lip.

  “Are you going to be an asshole the whole time?” She narrowed her eyes and tightened her lips.

  I shrugged. “Maybe. Now start the car. This driving lesson is long overdue.” Orla did as I commanded, and the car came to life. “Now, foot on the brake and put it into drive.”

  Orla hesitated, frowning as her hand rested on the gearshift.

  “We aren’t going to get anywhere like this,” I said impatiently. I was trying to push her, to get her to forget about her nervousness.

  “No kidding,” she replied, finally putting the car into gear.

  “We’re in the middle of an empty road with nothing but farmland around us. Chances are good that we won’t come across any other cars here. So, just take your time and drive around a bit.”

  “Drive around a bit? That’s your great teaching method?”

  “What were you expecting?” I asked. “Some big secret to operating a car? All you need to know is the gas is the pedal on the right and brake is on the left. Now, go.”

  Orla mumbled something under her breath that sounded an awful lot like “gobshite,” but she focused her attention on the road. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the steering wheel and eased off the brake. We crawled forward.

 
“I’m pretty sure I could jog faster than this.”

  “Then get out and jog.”

  I hid a smile, settling back to watch her, which was concerningly turning into my new obsession.

  Her back was ramrod straight, and her eyes laser sharp as they scanned the empty road. After several minutes, she finally got more comfortable, picking up speed and even relaxing back into the seat.

  “Okay, you’ve mastered going straight. Now, try making a turn.”

  “Uh…okay,” she said anxiously.

  “Up ahead, take a left turn.”

  She did, swinging out wide into the right lane for a moment before overcorrecting and nearly going right off the road into a ditch. I let out a shaky breath as she straightened out in the left lane once again.

  Maybe this driving lesson was a bad idea.

  “You know, when I was little, sometimes my dad would let me sit in his lap while he was driving,” she said, her voice full of nostalgia. “I’d take the wheel while he worked the pedals. Of course, he would grab the wheel if he needed to, but it made me feel so grown-up to help him drive.”

  My heart softened. Sometimes Orla was so tough, I forgot she’d survived a family tragedy that would send most people to their knees. I promised myself I’d try to be less cold to her. “You miss them, don’t you?” I probed gently.

  “Every minute of every day. But I try to only remember the good things,” she said. “It helps to keep them alive for me.”

  “You know what I remember about your parents?” I said.

  “How much they wished you were their son?” she said.

  I chuckled. Her parents had loved me more than my brothers. Mostly, I suspected, because they knew I was sweet on their daughter and had looked forward to us getting together one day.

  “I remember when your mom tried to learn how to knit and made us all those hats for Christmas, but they were all way too big.”

  Orla laughed lightly and nodded. “You remember that picture she took of the four of us wearing those hats? She loved it. Kept it on the refrigerator for years.”

  “I always liked that she didn’t embarrass easily. She saw the humour in everything.”

  “Yeah.” Orla’s eyes misted over for a moment, but I acted like I didn’t see it. “She was my favourite ma. Except for yours, of course.”

  I let out a snort. Our ma had wanted a girl. So Orla had been the daughter she never had. Every Christmas I swear our ma spent more on dresses and dolls for Orla than she did on us boys. But I could never fault her for that. “She was just as devastated as I was when you were taken away.”

  “You…you were devastated?”

  She was looking at me out of the corner of her eye. I couldn’t meet her gaze. How could she not realise I was devastated?

  I cleared my throat. “Turn right up here,” I said, signalling the end of this conversation.

  She slowed almost to a stop this time, but her alignment was perfect. No near-accidents.

  We were getting closer to the town. Ahead, I saw the park where they played old black-and-white movies on a big white screen on weekends during the summer. It was a big community event that everyone attended.

  “Do you remember that park?” Orla’s voice spoke up.

  Did I remember?

  That was where I’d kissed her. We used to spend so much time with my brothers, but that night the two of us had gone to the park alone. I couldn’t remember what the movie was, but I knew it was a romance.

  It was like fate. We watched the couple on the big white screen fall in love, and as the credits rolled, I’d leaned over, looked into her eyes and pressed a kiss to her lips. It was soft and sweet, opening my world to the possibility of finally having what I’d always wanted.

  Then I had nothing.

  A familiar bitterness flooded me. I clung to it. This contented atmosphere between the two of us was not a good thing. I wasn’t protecting my heart like this.

  “No,” I growled.

  “No? You don’t remember when you—”

  “I already said no. Now turn around. We’re heading back to the house.”

  “Already?”

  “I have work to do.”

  “But—”

  “I don’t have time to spend babysitting you all feckin’ day.”

  She tensed up in my peripheral vision. She was practically shaking with anger. I couldn’t blame her. I was being an asshole of the highest degree. The coldness in my tone like ice.

  “Grand.” That single word said so much.

  This back and forth, hot and cold act I was putting on was getting exhausting for both of us, but I couldn’t help myself. Spending one-on-one time with her was a bad idea, but I couldn’t seem to help finding reasons to. Like these damn driving lessons.

  She was like a drug. The more hits I took, the more addicted I became. Knowing it was a bad idea didn’t kill the cravings.

  I directed her back to the house. She said nothing, silently fuming at me as she followed my instructions.

  I wanted to tell her that she was doing a good job driving because she was. I also wanted to tell her she was the worst driver I’d ever known because it’d make her hate me and run from me.

  I did neither.

  Come closer.

  Go away.

  I might be tugging her around, but I was tearing myself apart from the inside.

  This had to stop.

  In front of the house, I took the keys from her without a word and went inside the house, not even looking back when she called out “thank you, asshole” to me. Locking myself in the study for a while seemed like a good idea. Locking myself in the study until after Christmas seemed like a better one.

  I just had to avoid being alone with Orla until after Christmas. Then she’d be out of my life again and I could go on living my life. Waking up in my minimalist apartment. Working out. Being CEO. Eating dinner delivered from a roster of three local restaurants. Watching the news. Sleeping. Repeat. That didn’t seem like a bad life. Right?

  Except now that she was back, I felt awakened. Like the life I had been living before was just a waking-sleep. I had been a ghost. Now I felt alive with purpose.

  Now I felt.

  No. It didn’t matter that being with her felt right in a way that nothing else did. It didn’t matter that she made me laugh and feel human, like I was more than just a CEO, a boss, an eldest son. It didn’t matter that I was already falling for her. Or perhaps I’d never fallen out of love, only now rediscovering it. Orla said it herself—she wasn’t sticking around again. I would not hand my heart over to her for a second time for her to rip it out of my chest.

  I would not.

  Donncha

  “Hey, Donncha. Long time, no see.” A seductive voice purred in my ear.

  “Paige?” I’d answered my phone without looking at the screen.

  She chuckled. “Of course, silly boy. What’s the craic?”

  This attempt at making conversation was just polite chatter before she got to her point, and I already knew what it would be. We only had one thing in common.

  “I’m grand. Visiting my family’s country estate for the holiday.”

  “You’re not in Dublin?” she asked. It was more like a whine.

  “Nope.”

  “But I wanted to give you an early Christmas present.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “Me,” she breathed into the phone.

  I paused, surprised by my own reaction to her suggestion—or lack of a reaction. I had plenty of casual relationships with women that were mutually beneficial, no-strings-attached arrangements. Paige was one of them. She was good in bed and didn’t try to tie me down. If I’d gotten this call a month ago, I wouldn’t have hesitated to invite her to the house or even borrow Aogán’s SUV to meet her somewhere in the middle. Now, all I could think about was a certain red-haired woman who I’d known since childhood and had somehow gotten under my skin.

  When had that happened? When had Orla
become more than mutual fun?

  In my chase I never expected her to be so easy to be around. To be so much fun. I wanted more. And I wanted it with Orla.

  This realisation rattled me to my bones.

  Apparently, I was quiet for too long, because Paige got impatient. “Donncha? Hello? Did you hear me? I want to get together tonight.”

  I cleared my throat. “Uh…yeah…I mean, no. Sorry, Paige, I’m not available.”

  “Tomorrow then?”

  “No. I mean I’m not available for hook-ups at all anymore.”

  “What? Did you get married or something?”

  “No.” But for the first time, the idea didn’t seem abhorrent to me. “I’m just not interested in doing this anymore.”

  “Whatever,” she snapped. The line went dead.

  I tucked the phone back into my pocket, lost in thought. So this was what it felt like to have real feelings for a woman. Orla was kind and strong, beautiful and brave, the kind of person I could see myself falling for. The problem was that she hadn’t indicated she was interested in something serious with me. Was this more than physical for her too?

  Aogán and Tristan were both in the living room, sitting on separate couches. Aogán was spinning a guitar pick in his hand while looking at something on his phone. His guitar case lay open at his feet with his bass guitar inside. Tristan was bent over his own guitar on his lap, plucking away at the strings, creating an unrecognisable melody.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, taking a seat in the easy chair by the fireplace, the warmth washing over me from the low-burning fire.

  “We’re going to play,” Tristan said, looking up from his guitar.

  Initially I’d agreed to play with my brothers because of Orla. She’d gone out for a walk, so she wasn’t around to hear us play. But now the idea of jamming around with my brothers had an appeal all its own.

  “Cool,” I said. “What did you have in mind?”

  “I’ve been writing something,” he said. “No name or lyrics yet, but I thought we could work on it together and create something.”