by Casey Morgan
Soon the dace floor opened back up and couples started to pair off again. Ryan collected Shanna and Killian asked Mila to dance. Once again, I was alone. And my cider bottle was empty. Time to find something new.
Chapter 2
Keira
After an extremely strong Irish coffee, I finally perked up enough to notice the inordinate number of attractive elves working the reception. It was nuts. These Irish village boys were hot. Handsome faces, rugged jaw lines, gently pointed ears, and rippling muscles; I guess all that farm work does a body good.
Just as I grabbed a hard cider from the bar, I felt my phone vibrate in my bag and checked it. It was my ex, Manny. What does he want? Probably sniffing around for a post-relationship booty call, would be my guess. No, thank you, Manny. Not after the way you left things, you pushy d-bag. If I wanted to get someone to be rude and obnoxious to me, I have all of New York City to choose from. I dropped the phone back in my purse and let it go to voicemail. As soon as I was alerted that I had a voice mail, I deleted it. I wasn’t even going to risk listening to it. I didn’t need that kind of negativity in my life.
I was looking for that hot baker again when I met the gaze of yet another Irish elf standing near the bar. This one was slightly slimmer than the first one, like he had a swimmer’s body and not the bulk of a weightlifter. But he was of similar height and had the same unusual coloring for an elf; dark brown hair and amber colored eyes. I wondered if they were brothers.
Hmmmm, brothers? That could be fun.
Guess I was horny as hell. It had been several weeks since my break up. Since then, I had mentally undressed a TSA guard, the co-pilot, some guy in first class; now I was doing it to this elf. The difference was, I could actually hook up with him. I mean, a wedding is like the perfect place and even a so-so sexual encounter at this point would erase Manny from my memory. I was just getting up to go talk to the elf at the bar when another elf bumped into me.
“Oh, I’m sorry, miss,” he apologized, giving me a slight nod and a sly smile. He looked similar to the other two I was eyeing.
I felt a slight blush color my cheeks. Maybe it was my natural attraction to Irish guys. Maybe it was just my general horniness from having not been laid in a while, but he was gorgeous too. He wore a Hennessy House polo shirt wrapped around a taught muscular frame. Guess he must work here.
Three Irish elf brothers? Yes, please.
“That’s okay,” I said trying to be casual. “You can run into me whenever you want.”
He laughed. I don’t think he could tell whether I was flirting or a little drunk.
“I wish I could,” he said, looking me up and down. “Perhaps I can give ye a proper Irish welcome. Would ya like that?”
“I’m not sure,” I said, intrigued. “I don’t normally like my welcomes too proper. I can get pretty improper sometimes.”
He laughed again. God, that smile. Even his teeth were perfect. Are they cloning these elves for Abercrombie and Fitch or what?
“Connor! Need some more drinks over here,” someone called.
The gorgeous elf in front of me frowned. “I have to go,” he said reluctantly. “Perhaps I’ll see you around?”
“Yeah,” I said, flipping my hair back over my shoulder. “You should find me.”
He grinned, nodded and walked away. I had to watch that beautiful boy go.
“Or I’ll find you,” I muttered under my breath.
I checked the alcohol content of the hard cider I was drinking. You wouldn’t call me a wuss in that area, but the alcohol content was a little higher than your average beer back home. Quite frankly, I didn’t care. With this much beefcake in play, I wasn’t going back to my room alone. I made eye contact with that hot elf by the bar and walked over to introduce myself.
“Hey, Keira,” I said introducing myself and extending a hand.
“Seth,” he said in his lyrical accent.
He shook my hand and then sort of set it on the bar with his on top.
“Well, you seem nice,” I smiled.
“That I am,” he smiled back. “I’m very nice.”
“That’s good,” I flirted. I rubbed my thumb on the top of his hand. “I need someone to be nice to me right now.”
“Why’s that, lass?”
“Let’s just say my ex left me with a bad taste in my mouth,” I half-explained. “You strike me as someone who would leave a good taste…in my mouth.”
He laughed and blushed a little. I think I had gotten my point across.
“Ya wanna dance?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said finishing my cider. “Let’s go.”
Seth was a pretty good dancer. In NYC, I’d probably already be back at his place, but these Irish elves were pretty traditional. Deep down, so was I. I mean, yeah, I wanted to get laid, but I also wanted to know the guy a little. I was usually so busy trying to slow a guy’s roll into my pants, I wasn’t used to some charming stranger just being nice to me. God, Manny must’ve really messed me up.
At some point, we headed over to grab a piece of cake. Earlier, Granddad and Honora fed each other a piece, and it was very cute. Now everyone was in line waiting for their own slices. Seth and I talked and flirted till it was our turns.
When we got to the front of the line, the hot baker I saw earlier was handing out the plates. He was watching an old couple eat the cake.
“Watch the raspberry seeds in the coulis,” he yelled to them. “They’ll get in your dentures.”
The old couple nodded and waved, indicating that they heard the baker. I giggled and Seth, realizing I was about to talk to the baker, grudgingly introduced us.
“Keira, this is Tavish Hallister,” he said. “My brother. He baked the cake.”
The muscular baker grinned at me and shook my hand.
“Oh, yes, I think I saw you earlier,” I said, a little flustered.
Damn he was fine. Deep amber eyes too. Tavish handed me a plate with a slice of cake. He picked the fork off of the plate and fed me a piece.
“Here ya go, lass. Taste that,” he offered.
The cake was light and fluffy. It mixed with the creamy white frosting and had the slight tang of raspberries. It was the best wedding cake I had ever tasted.
“Mmm, that’s amazing,” I complimented. “You really made that?”
“Oh, aye. I was up at the crack of dawn decorating it,” he said getting out his phone and showing me the pictures of the process. “Look at that. Came out perfect.”
“That’s what Tavish does,” said Seth. “Toils away in a kitchen all day making goodies, getting fatter and fatter.”
“At least I get some exercise to work it off,” Tavish countered. “You sit in your shop all day like a lump.”
“I move around plenty in there,” said Seth. He stretched, making a show of his broad shoulders and muscular arms. “Retail is work.”
“Yeah, if ye had any customers it would be,” joked Tavish.
“Oh, you run a shop?” I asked Seth while eating my cake.
“Aye. Ye should come down,” he invited. “Right in the middle of the village square there. I sell all sorts of knick-knacks and such.”
“Ya mean junk,” teased Tavish.
“At least my product won’t make ye fat,” countered Seth. “Ya have any idea how much butter he puts in there? Probably five times the calories in that slice than a normal cake.”
I thought about setting the cake down but decided not to. It was really good, and I was at a wedding. It was time to live a little. I took another forkful and slipped it seductively in my mouth, then licked the fork with a flourish of my tongue.
Both of the elves’ eyes went wider, watching me eat. Then Tavish smiled at Seth satisfactorily. These brothers were really teasing each other. Guess they must’ve been close.
“Don’t listen to this guy, Keira,” warned Tavish, pointing at Seth with his thumb. “He lives about his shop. He’s just trying to lure you in, so he gets another notch on his bedpost. Another A
merican tourist girl, right Seth?”
“Says the baker whose fiancé left him for London,” countered Seth.
That seemed to annoy Tavish and he slapped Seth’s hand away as he pointed it at him. They got into a brief scuffle with me in between.
“Hey-hey-hey!” I objected, stopping the fight before it could start. “You guys really need to relax,” I said.
At that moment, I looked across the room and noticed Connor, the bar tender, watching us from a distance. I had been stupid. All this time I was trying to get a guy interested in me and now I had three guys fighting over me. It was a bit overwhelming. I needed a moment to think and choose.
“Uh, guys,” I said. “I-I-I need to find a bathroom. Don’t mess each other up, okay?”
“Sure,” agreed Seth.
“We’re just kidding,” assured Tavish.
I headed for the bathroom, but out of the corner of my eye I spotted Tavish give Seth a light slap on the head. Seth returned it and they started up again.
Rushing into the bathroom, I went inside a stall and shut myself in for some privacy. I think I may have overdid it. I wanted some attention from the guys and now I had too much. The last thing I needed was to start an actual fight at my granddad’s wedding. Oh, God, I can just hear my family scolding me now.
“Keira. What were you thinking?” my dad would say. “You can’t wind these local boys up.”
“You’re a guest in these people’s country, Keira,” my mother would say. “Is that how you act? Is that how I taught you?”
I shook my head to clear the negative thoughts. I came out of the stall and checked my make up in the mirror. It then occurred to me that I knew two people with multiple husbands or boyfriends at this wedding. If they had multiple husbands than could I date multiple brothers? Maybe my cousins would have some insight into how to handle that. Could I date all of the brothers and find a way to keep them from fighting? I would love to try.
I came out of the bed and breakfast and looked around the courtyard. Tavish and Seth were still standing by the cake, but now there was another elf with them, one I hadn’t seen before. He wore a well-fitting suit and leaned casually on the wall by the table. It had to be another Hallister brother because he looked very similar to the other three; tall, dark hair and amber eyes.
“Hey, there,” he greeted me, when I walked up to the table. “Lads. Aren’t you going to introduce me?”
“Keira, this is our brother, Ronan,” said Tavish. “He runs the travel agency here in Luck’s Hollow.”
“It’s great to meet you,” he said, shaking my hand. “My brothers told they met an exciting American witch, but they didn’t tell me you were so beautiful.”
“Well, that’s laying it on a bit thick, isn’t it?” commented Seth immediately crossing his arms in front of his chest. He looked annoyed to be sharing my attention.
“No, that’s sweet,” I said, taking Ronan’s hand, and ignoring Seth’s displeasure. “Thank you, Ronan. How many brothers do you all have?”
“There are four of us, including Connor over there,” Tavish explained. “Connor is the youngest. He’s working here at Hennessey House while he finishes writing his dissertation.”
I nodded and took a second to glance at the bar. Connor was watching us all.
Now that the brothers gathered around me, I could see the differences in their faces and bodies. Tavish was the thickest. He really must work out a lot, because his arm muscles were practically ripping the arms of his button-down shirt. Seth was the tallest and had the air of being the oldest brother. He was still muscular, but it was more lean muscle. Ronan looked like he worked out too, but not as much as Tavish. He was the most stylish of the three. His hair was cut and styled impeccably. Connor the youngest, had his dark hair a little longer and a bit messier. All in all they were gorgeous. It made me want to see if they were different in bed too.
“Did you attend the wedding?” asked Ronan, bringing me out of my dirty thoughts. I nodded. “Burt and Honora. How did it go?”
“It was beautiful,” I said. “Your brother’s cake was very popular.”
“Tavish has always been a good cook,” Ronan complimented.
“Cooking isn’t everything,” muttered Seth.
Tavish wacked him on the back of the head and they started bickering again.
Just as I was about to say something, Grandpa Burt called me into the bed and breakfast to help with the presents.
“I’ll catch up with you all in a bit,” I told the guys. “Try to keep from tearing each other apart.”
They promised that they would but when I glanced back, they were still arguing over me. I was annoyed and pleased all at the same time.
Chapter 3
Keira
About an hour later I was back in the courtyard and quite tipsy. I had drunk quite a few hard ciders. Looking around the reception, I noticed that Seth, Ronan, and Tavish were gone. I became suddenly afraid that they were outside the courtyard beating the crap out of each other. Walking out of the tall stone walls, I thought I heard a commotion down the street, so I rushed toward it, swaying a bit as I ran. I guess I had a little too much to drink.
As I moved down the street, the commotion got further and further away. Every time I thought I would find the source of the noise around the next corner, the street beyond that corner would be empty. Then I would hear the noise coming from further down the cobblestone road. It was like an odd game of cat and mouse. I kept rounding corners sure I would find the three strong elves locked in a fighting embrace over me, but each new street held nothing.
Guess the only drunk person on that street was me, because when I turned back to walk to Hennessy House, I realized I had walked the wrong way. The streets in Luck’s Hollow weren’t on a grid system. They were twisty and winding, so turning a few degrees and not paying attention could really get you lost. And now I was; drunk and lost.
With my GPS on my phone, I knew there was no danger of really going missing. But I could only imagine what it was like to walk streets like this in the 1900’s, like my witch ancestors. Hell, the 1800’s must’ve been even worse. People had gas lamps if they were lucky or the light of the fireplace and if you were outside at night, you’d be lucky to have a candle or a glow spell. Must’ve been pitch black back then. Guess that’s why people stayed in at night in those days.
I found myself in the middle of a row of shops lining a small park wondering which shop in town belonged to Seth. There was a long pole in the middle of the park and a place for people to stand. I had read that people with political views would stand in the town square and speak, but there was no one around now.
It occurred to me that I probably shouldn’t be roaming the streets of a small town in Ireland, slightly tipsy, all alone in a mini-dress and heels. But I was drunk, and the emptiness of the town seemed neat. It was like a sneak peek into the lives of the inhabitants.
Just as I was about to take out my phone and look up directions to get back to the bed and breakfast, I heard singing in front of me. I glanced ahead, trying to focus my eyes. There was a bit of a town square just a few blocks in front of me. I stumbled forward, curious to know what the singing was all about.
Several Irish boys were dancing drunkenly in the square. There were close to five of them. One, oddly enough, wasn’t wearing pants. It was a strange sight, and I wasn’t thinking clearly in my drunken state, so I let myself wander closer.
“What’cha doing here, lass?” a voice asked right beside my ear.
I jumped a few feet and turned to regard the old warlock beside me. He had snuck up on me without me even knowing he was there. For an old man he was very quiet on his feet.
Black, oily hair clung to his forehead. His clothes were tattered and threadbare. He grinned at me with yellow teeth. One of his gnarled, old hands held a long white cane.
Some sober part of my brain warned me to back off or turn back, but that part was quickly hushed by the rest of my brain, which was partyin
g.
“There was singing,” I slurred to the old witch. “I saw them dancing and wanted to join. Why are they dancing?”
The old man grinned again, but this time there was malice in it. “My sister is getting married,” he said in a sing-song voice. “My beautiful, baby sister who I had protected all her life is taking vows today.”
What a remarkable coincidence, I thought. That his sister and my grandfather would get married on the same day. Two weddings in Luck’s Hollow at the same time. How wonderful!
“My grandfather is getting married today!” I boasted. “Getting married to the love of his life. Reunited after years and years. You see her family is horrible and kept her away from my granddad…” I caught myself rambling.
The men who were dancing in the square had stopped. They had heard what I said and were gathering closer to the old man and me. I noticed that they all kind of looked like the old warlock. They all wore tattered clothing, had the same black oily hair and similar faces.
“What’da ye say about her family?” the old man hissed.
“The McDonnells,” I rambled more; the words just falling out of my drunken mouth. “They’re bad witches. Kept Honora away from my grandfather.”
The men advanced on me. I moved back until the backs of my legs hit a park bench and I was trapped. The anxiety of the situation was starting to clean my head some. Oh crap. Who am I talking to?
“We’re the Mc Donnelles, lass.” One of the tall Irish boys leaned towards me. His grubby hands caught and clung to my white faux fur wrap. He pulled me forward, away from the safety of the park bench. “I suggest ye stop black-mouthing our good name.”
Another boy, slightly shorter than the first, fidgeted with his plaid cap and blinked at me with milky eyes. “Me ma won’t like ye calling us bad witches.” He rubbed his runny nose. “Ye need to shut up.”
“I didn’t…I mean…” I stuttered.
The tallest brute, who has the hold on my wrap, pulled me into the middle of the square. All ten of the boys and the old man surrounded me.
