by Sienna Blake
“Channe.”
“Full name,” Aogán said through gritted teeth.
“Channe Henley.”
Giving me one curt nod, Aogán pulled his phone out of his pocket and stood. Donncha continued to prowl around the room, seeming to be getting even more worked up as he went.
“I’ll fucking kill him,” he snarled. “I’ll hunt him down and kill him.”
“Calm down, Donncha.”
“Calm down!” Donncha exploded. “How the fuck can you tell me to calm down?”
“Talking shite isn’t going to help anything,” Aogán said, pulling the phone away from his ear for a moment. “I’m calling Greg.”
“Who’s that?” I asked Tristan.
“Aogán’s friend in the Garda,” he answered.
“No,” I stood up, my hand tugging from Tristan’s. “You can’t tell the Guards. You guys don’t know Channe. He’ll be furious. He’ll come after me…my baby.” I clutched my belly, fear gripping my heart in a tight embrace that made it hard to breathe.
“Let him,” Donncha spat. “It’ll be the last thing he fucking does.”
“I’m serious, Aogán, stop.” I ran from the spot at the table to grab at his arm holding the phone. “He’ll tell everyone that I’m a liar. He—”
Aogán grabbed me round the neck with his free hand, forcing me to look at him. “Orla, I would never let anything happen to you.” His voice was steady and calm even though there was a cold fire in his eyes.
I felt Donncha’s presence by my side. “We. We would never let anything happen to you.”
“None of us would,” Tristan appeared at my other side.
I was closed in from all sides by the Cassidy brothers, and a rush of warmth flooded through me. They were my shield. My protectors.
“But…” I protested weakly, “no one will believe me.”
“There’s no way he can deny what he’s done,” Tristan said with a gentle voice. “The baby will have his DNA.”
I swallowed hard. I hadn’t even thought of that.
“Let us help you,” Aogán said, his eyes never having left mine.
I nodded once.
Aogán’s shoulders sagged with relief. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to my forehead. I froze. It’d been the first sign of affection Aogán had expressed in front of his brothers.
But neither of them reacted. Neither of them read into it any more than a simple reassuring kiss from a childhood friend.
God, what was I doing?
Aogán pulled away and I felt his loss immediately. He pressed his phone back to his ear and walked into the kitchen. “Hello, Greg? Yeah, man, long time.”
Donncha pulled me into a hug. “I’m so, so sorry this happened to you,” he whispered into my hair as he rubbed my back. I sank into him, sighing, my pain feeling so far away. My hopelessness like a terrible dream.
I felt a hand in my hair and knew it was Tristan. To my surprise, Donncha let me go, turning me toward his brother so he could comfort me, too. My heart swelled up to double the size as Tristan wrapped his arms around me.
“I told you it’ll be okay,” he whispered into my ear.
I smiled up at him before pulling away as Aogán returned to the room.
“Greg is going to start an investigation,” Aogán said, sliding his phone into his pocket. “He promised to keep me updated.”
“If you’re sure it’s the right thing to do,” I said.
Aogán nodded. “You should have told me earlier.”
“Us. You should have told us earlier,” Donncha interrupted.
Aogán frowned. “If I’d known you were in trouble…”
“You’d have been less than an ass?” I said teasingly.
Aogán’s face fell. “I’m sorry, Orla, I—”
I shook my head. “It’s fine. I’m just glad you’re not angry with me now that you know.”
“Angry with you? What for?”
“That I kept this from you. That I’m carrying another man’s baby.”
“Jesus Christ, Orla. I could never be mad at you for that,” Aogán said, Donncha and Tristan chiming in with their own protests.
I didn’t know what to say. I was relieved that no one seemed freaked out by the pregnancy. I was sure that it would repel them. Who would want to be with a woman carrying another man’s baby?
Emotion welled up in me and I let out a choked “thank you”.
“It’s a relief to tell you all. But I still don’t know what I’m going to do,” I confessed. My hand went to my stomach. “I thought about ending the pregnancy so that I could pretend this never happened, but I don’t think I can do it. I’m scared to be a single mother.”
“You should marry me.” Aogán’s words were abrupt and shocking. I stared at him. I would think it was a sick joke if he didn’t look so serious.
Tristan and Donncha were frozen on either side of me.
“What?” I practically screeched.
“You need support. Someone to help you raise your child. I can do that better than anyone.”
“Oh my God.” As a child I’d imagined Aogán proposing one day. But not like this. This felt more like an obligation.
“Do you want me on my knee? I’ll get on my knee.”
“Jesus, Aogán,” I said in a rush, my cheeks heating.
“That’s ridiculous,” Donncha said. “She should marry someone who cares about her. Someone who makes her laugh. Me.”
“She should be with someone who understands her,” Tristan spoke up. “Me.”
“You?” Aogán looked at Tristan, then Donncha with narrowed eyes. Then understanding dawned on his face. “You love her, too.”
“Too?” Donncha repeated.
The three brothers turned to stare at me. Dread settled in my gut.
“Orla?” Tristan asked, his eyes and voice pleading with me.
“I’m sorry,” tumbled out. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“Wait,” Donncha said, shaking his head, looking confused because he obviously hadn’t realised my other shameful secret, “what is happening?”
“She’s been seeing all of us,” Aogán stated, his voice turned to stone.
“I’m sorry,” I repeated, my guilt shredding my insides to pieces, the safety and love I’d felt not moments ago crumbling around me. I was about to lose all three of them and I would have no one to blame but myself.
To my utter shock, Donncha turned to Aogán. “Well, we all know you don’t deserve her. We all saw the way you treated her when she arrived here four weeks ago. I would treat her best.”
“No way. I was the only one who noticed she was pregnant. I deserve her most,” Tristan chimed in.
“I loved her first. For years now.” Aogán was almost yelling now.
“You snooze, you lose,” Donncha snarked.
I could hardly keep up with the onslaught of emotions I was feeling. A part of me wanted to be offended that they were talking about me like I was an object to own, not a person who could hear them. But I was too shocked by what was happening. I thought they would hate me for falling in love with all of them. Instead they were fighting over me.
“That isn’t up to you,” Aogán said, pinning me with a glare. “It’s up to Orla.”
“Yeah,” Donncha agreed. “You have to choose.”
Feeling overwhelmed, I turned to Tristan, but he didn’t provide the reprieve I expected. He looked grim.
“Who do you want, Orla?” Tristan asked.
I felt like I was being backed into a corner, being asked to do the impossible. All I wanted to do was run away. “I have feelings for all of you.”
“But who makes you laugh more?” Donncha said.
“Who understands you more?” interjected Tristan.
“Who do you have the most history with?” Aogán said.
“I…can’t choose.” I shook my head, pressing my hands into my face. “I’m sorry.”
“You have to,” Aogán said.
“I…
can’t,” I wailed. “I won’t. I didn’t mean for this to happen.” My voice hitched. “I’m sorry for coming between you. I’ll leave.”
Before they could respond, I turned and fled the room.
Tristan
Orla disappeared up the stairs. We heard her bedroom door close after a moment, and I felt the beginning of panic take hold of me. Donncha and I both started up the steps at the same time, bumping into each other in a way that would have been comical under different circumstances.
Aogán was hot on our heels. “Get out of the way, damn it.”
“Feck off,” Donncha replied, shoving his shoulder into mine.
“Wait,” I said, throwing my arms out to block their way.
“Get out of the way, Tristan. She’s probably packing a bag right now.” Donncha was probably right, but this wasn’t the way to get her to stay.
“We can’t all come at her hot like this and expect her to change her mind,” I reasoned. “It should just be one of us. It needs to be calm.”
Aogán narrowed his eyes. “Calm? And you think it should be you?”
“We don’t have time to fight about this. Our fighting is the reason she thinks she needs to leave in the first place. Let’s be frank with each other for once. Aogán, you can’t express yourself for shite. And Donncha, you’re a hothead. Let me talk to her and get her to stick around. Then we can compete for her all we want.”
Donncha looked like he was going to argue, but Aogán spoke first. “He’s right.”
“You can’t be serious.” Donncha glared at both of us.
“Shut up, Donncha. He’s our best shot.”
I wasn’t sure why Aogán was agreeing with me, but I wasn’t going to stick around long enough for him to change his mind. I took the stairs two at a time and knocked on Orla’s door. It was quiet on the other side for almost a full minute.
“It’s me. Tristan.”
Orla’s voice was full of uncertainty as she called out, “Come in.”
The door was unlocked, which I took to be a good sign.
She had her old knapsack open on the bed. She’d already started to stuff her clothing in it.
I closed the door behind me. “You can’t leave.”
“I can’t stay.” Her voice was laced with guilt. “I’ve already come between you guys. God, what was I thinking? Getting involved with you all was a mistake.”
“Don’t say that.” I wasn’t thrilled about her relationship with Aogán and Donncha, but I didn’t want her to regret a single moment we spent together. “You’ve changed me—us—for the better in just a few short weeks.”
“Aren’t you mad at me?” She sounded baffled.
I didn’t quite understand it myself, but the answer was no. I didn’t love the idea of her with my brothers, but I could tell that she cared deeply about all of us. This wasn’t a flippant decision on her part, not a twisted way to get her thrills. She did this out of love.
“I’m not mad. I understand. I understand you, Orla. Choose me.”
“Tristan—”
“You don’t have to make a decision right now. Give me time to prove to you that I’m the right guy for you. Stay until after Christmas at least. That’s less than a week. Then you can decide what to do.”
We would be going back to Dublin after the holiday, anyway. I wanted Orla to come with us. To come with me.
“If I choose one of you, it’ll ruin your relationship with each other. It’ll tear apart your whole family. I don’t think I can live with that.”
“If you leave here, your baby could be in danger. What if your foster father is looking for you? Where will you go?”
“But Tristan, you saw what happened downstairs. How can I stay?”
“Don’t worry about that right now. Your baby is more important than all our feelings. Right?”
“Right…but…”
“We can figure all that out later.” I tried to sound reassuring, but I knew she was probably right. It was clear that we were all crazy about her and wouldn’t be able to tolerate losing her, especially to a brother. “Don’t you want to spend Christmas here? With us?”
“Of course I do.”
“Then, stay. Please.”
Orla took a seat on the edge of her bed, her shoulders slumped. “Are you sure that I should?”
“I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.” I sat beside her and took her hand. “We’ll all figure out a way to work through this together.”
“Okay.” She nodded. “I guess I stay for Christmas.”
I smiled. Brushing a feather-light kiss against her lips, I stood and headed toward the door. “I’ll tell the others to give you some time alone. Get some rest.”
I stepped out of the room and closed the door behind me. Aogán and Donncha were standing at the top of the stairs, looking like they were arguing although their voices were a low whisper. They both turned and looked at me questioningly. I motioned to them to go downstairs. When we reached the ground floor, I spoke before they could ask.
“She’s staying.”
Aogán’s reaction was measured, just a flash of emotion in his eyes and a stiff nod. Donncha’s entire body seemed to deflate as he relaxed. His eyes went to the stairs, but I moved my body into his path.
“She wants some time alone to think about things.”
“You sure about that?” Donncha’s tone was aggressive. “Because I think you might be trying to get her to choose you.”
“Of course I am. We all are. But that doesn’t change the fact that she has had an emotionally draining evening. She’s probably feeling overwhelmed and guilty.”
“You think you understand her,” Aogán said. “But what Orla needs is a strong man who can take care of her.”
“Of course you think that’s you,” Donncha sneered. “You’ve always thought you were better than us.”
“You both need to grow up,” I said, knowing deep down that I shouldn’t be adding to this argument but unable to stop myself from fighting for her. “Orla was traumatised in the worst possible way. The man she ends up with should be someone who can help her work through that.”
“I could help her,” Aogán insisted.
Donncha snorted. “You’re the most emotionally closed-off person I know.”
“Not with her. I’d stick around with her. I could commit. Unlike you.”
Donncha bristled. “I know how to commit, I just haven’t wanted to before her.”
I let out a sigh. “Guys, we’re not helping matters by arguing with each other. Orla is the one who has to choose. So…truce?”
“Truce,” Donncha said.
“For now,” said Aogán.
The three of us looked at each other, eyeing each other warily. A terse silence coming over us.
Brothers turned competitors.
Family turned opponents.
And when Orla picked one of us over the others…?
I wasn’t sure our family would survive it.
Orla
“Good morning.” Donncha greeted me with a smile when I walked out of my bedroom in the morning. His dark hair was damp, presumably from the shower. He was once again wearing an ugly Christmas sweater. This one was a deep green and looked like it had actual tree ornaments hanging off of it.
I couldn’t hold back my grin. “Good morning.”
We started down the stairs side by side.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked, his voice a little too forced.
“Are you making small talk now? That’s not like you.”
“Then I’ll get straight to the point. You should pick me.”
“Donncha—”
“I know, you can’t choose. Yet. I intend to convince you.”
“How do you think you’ll do that?” We reached the ground floor and headed toward the kitchen.
“I happen to be very charming.” He winked with a playful grin. “So, I’ll woo you.”
I laughed. “Woo me. Really? Who says that?”
“I do. And wi
ll. Starting by making you breakfast.”
“Too late,” Aogán said. We walked into the kitchen, where Aogán stood at the island, sipping a cup of coffee. “I already made it.”
“You did?” I asked.
“I didn’t even know you could cook,” Donncha said, his brows drawn together.
“I’m a man of many talents,” Aogán said, pulling foil off a large plate on the counter.
I stared at the piles of food. “Spicy baked beans, mushrooms, sourdough toast, and a poached egg.”
“You made this?” I asked.
“Oh ye of little faith. I’m good for more than just running a toy company, you know.”
“Of course you are,” I agreed. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. It looks delicious.”
I was right. It was delicious. I ate everything on the plate, savouring it. Aogán beamed at me. Donncha pouted on the other side of the island.
The second my plate was empty, Donncha snatched it from me, going to the sink to clean it for me right away.
“Do you want to come for a walk with me today?” Donncha asked.
“She’s supposed to help me with something,” Tristan said, walking into the kitchen with messy bedhead.
I had agreed to help Tristan put the finishing touches on his new toy design today. I had the idea that he also wanted to spend time alone with me.
“What does she need to help you with?” Donncha asked.
Tristan was silent and I could see he looked uncomfortable. It seemed that he wasn’t quite ready to tell his brothers about his lack of interest in toy designing.
“It won’t take long,” I said, taking the attention off Tristan’s lack of response. “Let’s go.”
I could feel Donncha and Aogán watching us as I followed Tristan out the back door.
I didn’t want to make any of them jealous, but if I was going to try to choose one of these men, which felt impossible right now, then I needed to spend more time with each of them alone.
I followed Tristan up the stairs in the pole barn and into the design studio. I didn’t realise that my shoulder muscles were bunched up until we were behind the closed door and I was able to relax.
