by Sienna Blake
With that, Aubrey was off like a startled deer.
I hurried to keep up. Inside the front door of the house I grew up in, I saw Darren with Eoin in a headlock, his knuckles still on Eoin’s hair as he stared at Ma.
Darren huffed before releasing Eoin, who popped free and rubbed his head with a rueful look on his face. “Worth it,” he mouthed to Aubrey, giving her a thumbs-up as if to show he got even with Darren for her.
I repressed a growl. My little brother’s grin and subsequent dimple could melt a lady’s heart, and I didn’t want that noise around Aubrey.
“Well, isn’t it my favorite,” my ma’s voice called out.
I turned to my ma with a grin, arms out, ready for a hug that I knew smelled like home-baked ginger nut biscuits and lemon soap.
My ma—the traitor—walked right past me and went straight to Aubrey, pulling her into a hug.
My jaw dropped. The cheek!
Aubrey chuckled and shot me a wink over my ma’s shoulder.
“It’s so good to see you, Aubrey,” Ma said, giving the woman I loved a sweet smile. Ma had pulled her long silver hair back loosely and her blue eyes—so like my own—seemed more tired than usual. We’d all grown taller than her by about eleven years old. Despite our wild ways, we were always respectful and loving with her even when we wanted to kill each other.
“And you,” Aubrey said. Her features morphed into concern as she studied my ma. I wondered if Aubrey could see the slight pallor to my ma’s cheeks. “How are you feeling?”
“Oh, you fuss just like the rest of them.” My mother made a noise and waved away the comment. “I’m grand.” She turned to me. “Come here, boy. Stop your pouting. You know you’re at least my third favorite.”
I leaned down for a hug, holding her shoulders gently, and inhaled the smell of home. “How are you, Ma? You feeling okay?”
My ma snorted as she pulled away. “Jaysus, boy, I’m not turned to glass. Just a poor ticker. Are you hungry?”
In minutes, we’d all sat at the table that my brothers and I had set with Aubrey’s help. Sitting around the table with my ma right there, I could almost pretend nothing was wrong. That this was yet another day, like the vast catalogue of happy childhood memories I could draw from.
I never thought there would come a day when I’d have to sit here without my ma.
The thought slammed into me with full force. I had to bring my napkin to my face to hide myself. My ma would not appreciate me getting emotional at her table.
Darren spotted me, giving me a mirrored look of pain before locking on our ma’s face like he had to memorize every detail, lest he forget. He was thinking all the worst like I was.
My chest filled with determination. I was going to do whatever it took to make sure we could pay for her surgery. Come hell or high water, I’d make sure she had the best chance at surviving this. This lottery would work.
Luckily, no one else spotted my near-breakdown. Everyone else was focused on my ma as she peppered Aubrey with questions about the fundraiser.
“The boys told me what you did for me in organizing that fundraiser. My God, Aubrey, you are an absolute gem. If only one of my boys had been smart enough to snap you up before that man of yours did.” Ma shot us—me especially—a stern look.
Aubrey chuckled. “I daresay that any woman who manages to pin down any of your boys would be a lucky woman.”
My brothers looked chuffed.
Eoin had the nerve to send Aubrey a wink across the table.
I kicked out. I missed, obviously because it was Michael who let out a grunt and glared at me.
“Things going well with him? What was his name again?”
Aubrey flushed before nodding. “Sean. Yes. All fine.”
“All fine? Sounds like a woman deeply in love.” My ma sent me a weighted look.
This time I wanted to kick my ma under the table. I refrained, of course.
“I couldn’t believe that you got that handsome young man, Jason Reilly, there,” my ma continued.
Aubrey chuckled. “He was pretty easy to convince once I was able to get past his assistant.”
“I bet he was,” Eoin said, eyeing Aubrey up.
I aimed another kick, which Eoin was smart enough to avoid. He stuck out his tongue at me. I sent him a look that told him he was going to pay for it.
I rolled my eyes as my ma nattered on further about Jason fucking Reilly. “Come on, he’s not that handsome.”
My ma gasped. “Yes, he is. Don’t you think, Aubrey?”
Aubrey nodded. “Incredibly handsome.”
I choked on a too large mouthful of casserole. Michael took the opportunity to slap my back good and hard. I swatted his hand away and reached for the water, glaring at Eoin, who was smirking at me from across the table.
“He’s not as handsome as your boys, though,” Aubrey said to my ma. When my eyes shot to her, she was looking at me. She sent me a wink before turning back to her food. She thought I was handsome?
“I hope Noah thanked you properly for that fundraiser,” my ma said, giving me a sideways glance.
Aubrey looked at me too, a slight smile on the corners of her lips as if she knew she had the power to ruin me right then. “Of course.”
“Maybe give you a raise? Time off, something like that? Like a good boss would.” Ma shot me a warning look.
“He’s the best boss,” Aubrey said with a smile, her quick defense of me warming my heart.
“I bet he is,” Eoin said, elbowing Michael, who scooted his chair out of reach of Eoin’s jabbing elbow. The boy had some power for only being twenty-one, no doubt from his rugby training. “He works her long into the night. Gives her a long hard shift.”
Darren let out a snort which he poorly disguised as a cough. Even Michael sniggered into his casserole.
Aubrey tried to ignore Eoin, but the slight pink in her cheeks told me that she heard him alright. With a well-aimed kick, I managed to make Eoin wince and say “Ow!” Of course, he knew it was me. “It’s on, asshole,” he mouthed.
“Bring it, asswipe,” I mouthed back.
“No fighting at the table, boys,” Ma said, glaring at us before focusing on Aubrey again with a soft smile back on her face. I swear my ma loved Aubrey as much as I did. “And what’s the news about your upcoming wedding?” Ma asked Aubrey, who shifted in her seat.
There were no plans. I knew Aubrey wasn’t comfortable admitting that fact.
“Ma, stop pestering her and let her eat,” I said.
Instantly, Michael’s attention snapped to me.
Eoin’s mouth dropped open and a bit of roll tumbled out onto his plate, earning him a glare from Ma.
Even Darren stared, his bite of food forgotten on the fork suspended halfway to his mouth.
Aubrey’s expression of soft thanks made it all worth it. “We haven’t planned anything,” she said.
“No plans.” I noticed a wicked twinkle in my ma’s eyes. “Is that so?”
Aubrey nodded, pushing some noodles around her plate while Eoin and Darren got into a fight over the last roll.
“You’ve barely touched your food,” Michael pointed out to Ma.
She looked down in surprise. “I guess you’re right. Good company and so much to talk about.” The excuse felt thin and I knew she didn’t have an appetite. We’d brought all the food so she wouldn’t have to deal with the strain of cooking for us, but seeing her not eat bothered me.
Eoin planted both elbows on the table and stared at Ma like he was never going to see her again.
“Don’t give me that look,” she said to him, swatting at his shoulder. “I’m not dead yet. Not going without a fight either.”
Eoin choked.
Darren and I exchanged a grim look.
Michael paled and stared down at his food.
“Ma,” Eoin said, his voice going all weird, sounding every bit like he did when he was ten.
“Yer alright, boys,” my ma said, not meeting any of our eyes
, her voice filled with warmth. “Even if I had to go tomorrow, I’d go with my chin up knowing that I raised you well.”
A heavy silence descended over the table.
What if we lost our ma? I balled my hands into fists in my lap.
Eoin looked like he was about to burst, his cheeks were so red.
No one spoke—no one knew what to say as the grim blanket of doom slowly suffocated us all.
“The casserole is surprisingly good,” Aubrey said, just a little too loud, directing her comment to Darren.
“You can thank Dunnes not Darren for that,” Michael said with a smirk, referring to a local grocery store.
“Hey!” Darren punched Michael’s arm. “I’ll have you know I slaved for ages over that.”
“It must have been hard work taking off the packaging and figuring out how to reheat it,” Eoin chimed in.
Darren shot him a glare.
“Regardless…” Aubrey gathered a large bit of casserole on her fork. “I’m glad I didn’t dump this over your head, Darren.”
Darren waved his fork at Aubrey, the hint of a smile on his lips. “The moment Noah’s back is turned, short stuff…” Darren let his threat hang.
“Yeah, the moment Noah’s back is turned…” Eoin waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Aaaaand we were back to normal. Or at least, as normal as the O’Sullivan household got, the fog having been lifted. At least for now.
I caught Aubrey’s eye and grabbed her hand under the table. I mouthed, thank you.
She laced her fingers with mine. And shrugged as if to say, that’s what friends are for.
I could have sat there for the rest of dinner just holding her hand, her tiny delicate fingers interlaced with mine.
A phone ringing cut into the noise of my brothers throwing digs at each other across the table. Aubrey pulled her hand from me and I cursed whoever was calling.
“Sorry, I meant to turn it off.” Aubrey turned a few shades of pink before pulling out her cell. She silenced the phone and shoved it back into her purse. It started to ring again. She fumbled around and the noise cut off. “Sorry, it’s Sean.”
I flinched at his name and tore apart the roll on my plate, hoping it wasn’t obvious to anyone else that I disliked him.
Her phone rang for a third time and I repressed a growl. What the feck was his problem?
“You should answer it, love,” my ma said softly.
“Sorry.” Aubrey chewed her lip. “He probably won’t stop calling until I pick up.”
“Go, go,” Ma said, waving her out of the room.
Aubrey rose from her chair and hurried out.
The second she was gone all eyes were on me.
“What?” I asked.
My ma—my usually civilized ma—snorted. “You’re a bloody eejit, Noah O’Sullivan. You should have snatched her up when you had the chance.”
Noah
Eoin sat down on the mechanic’s creeper that Darren used to lie back and roll under vehicles to work on them, a disgusted look on his face. It was a few days later and we were all at Darren’s shop after hours to go through the photos from the lottery shoot. The guys were struggling for seating because everything was covered in a layer of dirt, grime or grease. Or some mixture of all three.
Michael refused to sit down at all; instead, he brushed his hands over his suit like he was going to become soiled simply by association. “Everything’s so dirty,” he said, curling his lip a little. “When was the last time you cleaned this place?”
“No wonder you’re always filthy,” Eoin said to Darren.
I sat right down next to Darren, and he gave me a look of relief like I’d backed him up somehow with this gesture. The truth was that I didn’t give a damn if my torn jeans or old tee shirt got dirty. I worked in a damn bar. I’d had puke on me more times than I could count, blood from breaking up fights, and even shit once—but that was a story for another time. Grease or dirt were of no concern to me.
“Go feck yourselves, then,” Darren said, motioning them both towards the door. “I’ll get this site up and running without you pricks and pick the worst image of both you bastards.”
Instantly, Michael came closer and Eoin sat up a bit, using his legs to crab walk the creeper closer so he could have a look.
Darren pulled the images up on the screen, and we began to cycle through them one by one. Since the plan was for all four of us to be part of this, we’d all been included in the images. Of course, we’d included wordage that told contestants they could pick one of us, two of us, or any combination they preferred, should they win.
All of us leaned in and studied the images like our lives depended on it. The four of us had posed for some shots in only our jeans and masks. Some were candid, a few featured Eoin taking a hook to the face for playfully slapping Michael’s ass and telling him how well his jeans fit. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Michael deck someone so fast, and it was the first time I’d had a bit of concern. What if the guys actually had to share a woman? Would they be able to do so?
“The masks make us look weird,” Eoin said, breaking the tense silence.
I had to agree with him. Maybe because I’d never seen us like this. We’d each gone with simple green masks that were readily available and simple enough not to be easily traced back to us specifically.
Still, we could be a bunch of strangers. I recognized myself in the lineup, and there were clues, like their green eyes and my blue eyes, but nobody could figure us out based on just our eye color alone, right? Nobody knew us that well.
“Nobody will figure it out, right?”
I could tell that Eoin was having the same thoughts I was.
“I don’t give a damn,” Darren said. “I’d do anything for Ma.”
I nodded, as did Michael.
Eoin chimed in with an enthusiastic, “Hell yeah!”
“So long as everyone does their part, it’ll all be fine.” Darren was focused on the images as he clicked through the digital copies.
“I did mine,” Eoin said. “That photographer got some good shots.”
I hadn’t seen anything amazing yet, but I agreed. They were good shots. Some part of me was holding off from an ah-ha, that’s the one moment and another part of me was secretly filing away second choices in case no ah-ha moment came.
“I’ve got the NDA drafted,” Michael said, glancing from me to Darren. “Clearly, Darren’s got the tech wizardry going on.” He clapped our brother on the back, then pulled his hand away and stared at it, horrified at the grease and filth now smudged on his hand.
“I’m still not sure anyone’s even going to go for this,” Eoin said, settling back and crossing his arms. “Anyone will fuck a chick. Especially a hot rich chick. Why would one go for us?”
“Besides the obvious fact that we’re Irish, tall, and good-looking?” Michael asked, discreetly wiping his hand on Darren’s chair. His hand came away dirtier than before and he made a face, clearly regretting it.
Darren shot the lounging Eoin a glare. “We put in too much work for you to back out now.”
I watched, wishing I had popcorn to enjoy while the idiots got into a row.
Eoin lifted both hands. “I wasn’t saying I give up,” he was quick to clarify, “just that you’re all a bunch of ugly fuckers no sane woman would want inside her.” He did a fist pump.
Michael pressed his fingertips into his temple before ripping his hand away from his face and staring at it in horror.
“Use the damn orange cleaner and wash your hands, Michael,” Darren said, turning around.
Michael found the orange bottle and depressed the pump a good ten times in his hand, then hurried off to the bathroom to wash his hands.
“That’s been bothering him for a while now,” I said with a chuckle.
“I know,” Darren said, a wide grin spreading across his face. “I knew he’d touch my shoulder. I might have accidentally left a glob of grease there earlier.”
“Fecking evil,
” Eoin said, scooting the creeper closer. “I love it.”
“That’s because you’re not the target,” Michael said dryly, coming out of the bathroom with clean hands.
Eoin flipped him the bird.
Michael walked over and planted a foot on the creeper before giving it a shove that sent Eoin sailing across the room into the wall. I went back to looking at images with Darren, ignoring the spat between Michael and Eoin.
Three pictures later and one popped up that hit me with an electric tingle that set the hairs on my arm straight up.
“That’s the one,” I said.
Eoin and Michael went quiet, then scrambled over to look at the picture Darren had stopped on.
All of our attention fixed on the image even though I heard Eoin smack Michael in the back of the head and scoot out of reach.
In the image Eoin was to the left, leaning back a bit, his abs flexed and his arms crossed tightly. He looked every bit like the rugby champ he was, while no one would have a clue it was him.
Michael was to the right and back a little bit with his chin tilted up, his stance upright. Somehow the image captured his uppity air and gave him that rich appearance he’d worked so hard for, but not in a bad, dickish way.
Darren, to the far right, had hunched forward, his arms flexed in a rounded shape just below the belt, showing off the power in his shoulders and arms. I could see his mouth was open in a roar under the green mask.
I stood in the middle, chin up, hands spread in a “come at me” gesture. There was a primal air to us and I knew without a doubt that this was the one. This was the panty dropper. This was the one that would make the ladies beg us to fulfil their darkest, deepest, and most perverted fantasies.
“All agreed on this one?” Darren asked, glancing at all of us.
Michael nodded, speechless for once.
“I look feckin’ hot,” Eoin said, giving a harsh nod. “Agreed.”
“This is the one, then,” Darren said, hesitating a second like he was waiting for anyone to voice some concern or second thoughts.