by Kathryn Shay
Liam nodded. “You’re the only billionaire among us. You should know.”
Pat said, “Don’t agree with him. We don’t need more money.”
Kinley’s face reddened, but his voice stayed calm when he responded. “Your kids might.”
Pat sat back, his only acquiescence.
“What else?” Aidan asked.
Kinley went through a few money saving practices. Tax savings. Sheltering money.
“Why didn’t our accountant suggest these things?” Dylan asked. Jamie was glad to hear his curiosity, not anger.
“Is he your financial advisor?”
“No, we don’t ask him for advice.”
“Usually an accountant merely keeps the books, does taxes.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Dylan paused. “How do we know you’d make the right decisions about the pub?”
Jamie sat forward. “Wouldn’t it be stupid to sabotage you? He has the biggest stake in the place.”
“Who knows?” Pat interjected. “He stormed in on us and threatened all kinds of things.”
“Well, you don’t know him.”
“You’re right, Jamie.” She’d seen Pat’s belligerence before. It didn’t intimidate her. “That’s all I do know about him.”
Bailey frowned. “Patrick, is that the root of your issues with him? How he approached you?”
“No. Yes. Maybe.”
“I don’t understand.” Kinley didn’t, but Jamie did. “Explain, Pat.”
Patrick held Kinley’s gaze. “I already told you this. I would’ve welcomed another brother, brought my wife and kids to meet you, been your buddy for life. But you came in with guns blazing.”
“And you were hurt.” Jamie made the observation.
“Of course, I was hurt,” Pat admitted. “and pissed as hell.”
Kinley stood and walked to the window. He stood staring out at the backyard for several uncomfortable minutes, then turned around. “I needed to reject you before you rejected me.”
“Oh, Kinley.” Bailey got up. Crossed to him. Hugged him.
Pat stood, too and crossed to them. “We wouldn’t have.”
“I guess planning for decades on how to get revenge overshadowed rational thought.”
After another uncomfortable few seconds of them staring at each other, Aidan suggested, “Sit down, you two. We’ll talk about how we can at least get along, even if you can’t forgive us.”
“It’s your father I can’t forgive. I did all this because of him.”
“Then talk to him.” This from Pat again. “God knows I’ve tried dealin’ with my own anger at him when we found out about Moira.” He cocked his head at Kinley. “And what happened to you makes me furious at him. It must’ve been terrible that he took her and not you.”
Kinley nodded. Jamie thought he was probably overcome with emotion. But with that one exchange, hope slipped into this whole complicated relationship.
“How do you feel?” Jamie asked in the backseat of the limo on their return from Bailey’s house.
Kinley laid his head against the cushions, eyes closed. “I don’t know. I’m drained. Vaguely happy. Vaguely unsatisfied. Maybe a bit of anger that I was put on the spot.”
“All understandable emotions.”
He turned toward the window. “Where are we…oh you have to go home.”
“I’m sorry, Kinley, I do. Ben will expect to see me in the morning.”
In the headlights of oncoming cars, Jamie could see sadness come over his face. “I understand.”
“You could come home with me. Sleep on the couch.”
“No, I don’t want to do that.”
“I hate to think of you alone after that emotion-filled evening.”
He said stiffly, “I’ve been alone all my life.”
“You aren’t now. You have me, and now you know you have the O’Neil brothers and sister.”
“A bit much to handle right away.”
“I’m not surprised.” The car pulled up to her house. “I wish I could be with you,” she whispered when he went to kiss her.
“Same here.”
He tucked some wayward tendrils behind her ear. “What will you do now?” she asked.
“Pass out on my bed.”
“Okay. I’ll call in the morning.” She cocked her head. Then leaned over and gave him a full-mouthed kiss. She exited the car, sad, concerned and torn. She wanted to be with him. Comfort him. The need was so strong she almost turned back. But Jamie was a mother and her son had to come first in her life.
Kinley barely had the energy to use the john, brush his teeth and strip, but once in bed, he couldn’t settle down. Images of the O’Neil brothers inviting him into their family plagued him. Now, alone in the dark, he thought again how much he’d once longed for what they were offering. When had the bitterness come? Damn! He needed sleep.
He’d put his phone on the nightstand and picked it up, checked the clock. A half hour since he got home. The cell rang, startling him. “Hello.”
“Hi, it’s Jamie.”
“Sweetheart, I recognize your voice.”
“Now that makes me happy.”
“It makes me happy you called.”
“I had a feeling you wouldn’t be able to sleep.”
“Hmm.”
“I, um, can help with that.”
“You said you couldn’t come over.”
“I can’t, but I can still help you feel like sleeping. Afterward.”
“After what?”
“Phone sex.”
He thought he was too tired, or too upset to laugh but he barked out his humor. Then something hit him. “You know how to do phone sex?”
“No. I’ve never done it.” She waited. “Have you?”
“Nope.”
“Well, how hard can it be?”
Again, the amused bark. “Listen to yourself, girl.”
She giggled. “Okay. The ball’s in my court.”
“Jamie, stop.”
“Seriously, I’m in charge.”
His brow furrowed. “Why aren’t we Face Timing?”
“I haven’t been able to get it for a while. I let Ben play with my phone sometimes. Maybe he disabled it. Now hush and lay back.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Are you naked?”
“As a newborn.”
“I’m putting my hand on your face…brushing my fingers on your cheek…now your sculpted jaw.”
“Sculpted, huh?”
“Yep. I love your chest, it’s like God placed every hair just right.”
“Wow.”
“So now I’m bending over. Licking your nipples. Picture it, Kinley. Feel it.”
“I do. And I got hard.”
She giggled again. “For this I’m going to need your help. Let your hand slide down your body. Pretend it’s mine. Now touch your cock.”
“Jamie…”
“How does it feel? Good?”
“Yeah, especially when I think it’s you.”
“This is going great…but not too fast. It’s be…”
Man, he was shocked he wasn’t going to last long. “Um babe, it’s got to be fast, I think.”
She giggled again, but rode with him, so to speak, until the end.
He slept like the dead that night.
Though it was raining, Kinley pulled up to the field and thought about how he came to be here…
This morning, a weekend after being with the O’Neils, Kinley’s phone buzzed as he’d walked into his office. “Moran.”
“This is Patrick. O’Neil. Your brother.”
Kinley was totally taken aback but managed to say, “Good morning, Pat.”
“I’m in the lobby. The receptionist says I can’t come up without permission.”
“You came to my office?”
“Yeah. I got something for you.”
“Okay. I’ll buzz her. A security guard will accompany you up.”
In a few minutes, Patrick walked into his office.
He looked around and whistled. “This place is huge.”
“It’s a suite. I work late and need a place to sleep. I’m often here for three meals, hence the size.”
“All I was sayin’ is you’ve got a pretty swanky place here.”
“Thanks.” Kinley told Pat to sit, and Patrick took the chair across from him. “What’s up?”
“I been thinkin’ about what you said Friday night. Here.” He handed over a green cloth. It unfolded when Kinley grabbed it, and he saw he held a jersey. On the back was written, Bailey’s Irish Pub.”
“You got me a pub T-shirt?”
“No, it’s a baseball shirt. All four of us play on a team. Bailey used to join us, but then she married Clay and the Secret Service would have to stand behind her on the bases, at bat—it got too complicated.”
A smile broached his lips. “I would’ve like to have seen her play.”
“She was a demon on the field.”
“Hasn’t changed much, has she?”
Pat chuckled. “So, you wanna play on our team?”
He cocked his head. “You need a pitcher?”
“You pitch?”
“Yeah, I did some of that in school.”
“High school or college?”
“Both.”
“Huh. I didn’t know about your experience. That’s not why we’re asking you to come. It’s because of the other night, what we talked about - spending time together, doin’ things. Softball’s a lot of fun, too.”
“When does it start?”
“Next week, but the four of us are meeting at an empty field tonight at five.”
“Ah, to have a catch.”
Pat chuckled. “You saw Field of Dreams?”
“Hasn’t everybody? But yeah, I’ll come. Text me the address…”
A knock sounded on the window and Kinley buzzed it down. Aidan stood by his Mercedes. “It stopped raining. You coming?” Aidan asked.
“Yeah, sure.” Kinley got out of the car. From a distance, Kinley could see the grass was wet and there were puddles around home plate and second base.
“You look great in the cap and T-shirt,” Aidan said. “Could’ve dispensed with the thousand-dollar sneakers. And you’re gonna get those tailor-made pants dirty.”
His tone was teasing. Holy hell, they were going to razz him already? “It’s all I had, I’m happy to say.”
Aidan socked him in the arm and walked a few feet to the baseball diamond. “This isn’t where we play. But we come to practice sometimes. To let off steam, too.”
“I figured.”
“Kinley, the guys can be merciless, they’re so competitive. It’s nothing personal.”
“Gotcha.”
The smack of the ball in gloves was louder here. About twenty feet away, Pat and Liam were tossing the ball, ignoring the mud around them. Bats lay at Pat’s feet. Kinley and Aidan jogged over to them. Liam said, “Hey, Kinley, so glad you can join us.”
“Me too. Is it just us four?”
“No, Dylan’s late.”
“Dylan’s always late,” Pat growled. “We should start without him.”
Liam said, “No.”
Pat shut up.
Hmm, Kinley was having trouble with the dynamics of these guys acting like four normal brothers. Only they weren’t.
Patrick dropped down onto a small bench not far away. Then Liam joined him. Then the others did, lined up like they were waiting for a bus. Aidan looked up. “At least it’s stopped raining.”
Grumbles.
“How’s work going, Kinley?”
“Fine.” He assessed Aidan. “Do you even know what I do?”
“No, not on a daily basis.”
Kinley gave him the short version of what he’d told Jamie.
“How do you know when to invest?” Liam asked. “I wanted to do some day trading, but the mechanics blew me away.”
“And he’s a whiz at the computer.” Patrick finally contributed.
“Intuition and experience.” He looked down the row of the three of them. “How about you two? I know you’re semi-retired from the pub.”
Aidan snorted. “I’m not retired. Dylan’s not either. Why do people think careers in the arts are hobbies or part time?”
“I don’t.” This from Kinley. “I attend art and photography shows a lot.”
“How come?” Pat asked.
“My aunt, the one I eventually went to live with, used to take me to the galleries in New York. I learned to love museums.” He ducked his head. “Your work is top-notch, Aidan. I’m a bit in awe.”
“You’ve seen it?”
“One show. The other work online.”
“Then thanks.”
“Same goes for Dylan.”
“You read his books?”
“Um, yeah. All of them.”
“Which is your favorite?”
“Chasing the First Lady.”
Pat’s face brightened. “Mine, too.”
They heard a car door slam and turned to see Dylan had arrived. When he walked up to them, Pat stood and got in his face. “It’s about time.”
“Shut up.”
Pat drew back. “Don’t talk to me like that.”
“I’ll talk to you anyway I want.”
“Like hell.”
Pat grabbed Dylan’s shirt and Liam and Aidan bolted up. Kinley followed them over to them pair. Aidan slid between them. “Come on guys, let’s do some batting practice.”
Pat, Kinley and Aidan started toward the field but stopped when Dylan cupped his hands and yelled, “Why does he get to bat first?”
Pat turned halfway to the plate. “The early bird gets the worm.”
“Fuck you.”
“Fuck you back.” He got to the plate and picked up a bat.
Kinley jogged to Dylan. “Pat asked me to pitch but you can do it, Dylan, if you want.”
Pat yelled, “Like hell. Kinley’s pitching.”
“That’s it.” Dylan threw down his glove and stalked to home plate. Stood before his older brother like they were two schoolyard boys. “I’m sick of you bossing us around.”
Pat threw down his glove, too. “I’m the oldest.”
“We’re adults, asshole. That doesn’t count anymore.”
“Quit swearing at me!” Pat’s voice rose a couple of notches.
Dylan plopped his hands on his hips. “Fuck you.”
Pat lunged, Dylan side stepped and Pat landed on the ground…in a mud puddle. Unfortunately, Dylan turned his back and, now on his knees, Pat tackled Dylan who went face first into the water.
Kinley started forward. Aidan grabbed an arm.
“Wait until they get in a few punches,” Liam suggested. “To let off steam. Then we’ll stop it.”
The two brothers wrestled on the ground. In the mud. They rolled over switching the position of power. Dylan clipped Pat’s shoulder and Pat nicked his jaw.
This was stupid. Kinley approached them. He tried to grab Pat’s arm to pull him up, but Pat turned to him with flaming eyes. The others joined Kinley.
“I’ll get Pat, you get Dylan.” This from Liam.
Aidan added, “I’ll help Kinley.”
Pat lifted himself up and reached out a hand to Dylan. “Let’s take them, Dyl.”
Open mouthed, Kinley watched Pat lunge at him and push him down into a puddle, then plant his face in the mud. Kinley tasted the sour water. “Fuck.” He’d been in street fights that were a lot worse than this but not when he was forty-three.
On his haunches, Kinley looked around. Liam and Aidan had been pushed into the damp dirt and Dylan and Pat stood above him. All four of them exchanged expressions Kinley didn’t understand at first. Then he figured it out. “Did you set this up for me?”
“What you mean?” Dylan asked innocently. “Like an initiation to the family?”
“Yeah.”
“Did we Dyl?” Pat asked, biting back laughter.
“Nah.”
“Well, I certainly di
dn’t!” This from Liam.
“Me, either,” Aidan put in.
“How’d you know it would rain?” Kinley asked.
“We had a contingency plan.” This from Dylan whose pants were soaking wet. He offered a hand to Kinley.
Shocked, Kinley took it and got to his feet. And had to quell the emotion that came from his past hopes and dreams: to have brothers to wrestle with. Even in the mud.
But he couldn’t let this go unanswered. “Okay, consider me initiated.” They went to hug him. He couldn’t help but accept the embraces. When they finished, he scanned all four. “I’ll get you back, you know.”
“Nothing we don’t expect, brother.” Pat got the last word.
But it was brother so that was okay by Kinley.
When they reached the bar, Kinley circled his car and took a gym bag out of the trunk. Doors slammed all around him.
Pat came over to him. “What’re you doin’?” He had to admit he enjoyed the trick they played on Kinley. And Kinley had stood up to them, so good for him.
“I’m changing my clothes.” He arched a brow, arrogantly. “This place does have a men’s room, right?”
“Don’t be a sissy.”
“What a misogynist remark.”
Brie always called him on his slips.
“Baby, then. Only babies can’t tolerate damp clothes.”
“If you’ll take a look, Liam and Aidan hardly got wet. You and Dylan should change, too. You’re as soaked as I am.”
“Shit, I’m a man,” Pat boasted. “I can take it.”
Kinley actually laughed in his face. “Go ahead suffer. I’m changing.” He walked towards the building.
“You have to admit, he’s got balls.” This from Dylan.
Aidan said, “He used to be a in a gang.”
“I keep forgetting that.” Pat glanced over his shoulder. “If we’d tried that shit, Pa would have beat the living daylights out of us.”
“That’s the point, after all.” This from Liam.
They were quiet, the reality of what had happened to Kinley sinking in.
When they finally entered the bar, which was a little seedy but they liked it, they found Kinley sitting on a stool, waiting for them. He wore runner’s pants and a T-shirt. Different sneakers. Pat felt the itch from the mud sinking into places of his body that didn’t see daylight. Maybe Kinley wasn’t such a baby.
