The Spell of Four

by Casey Morgan

We got out on the street in front of O’Grady’s. Donovan and Aiden seemed to relax.

  Ha. The poor boys. That was exactly when I intended to make my move.

  As we walked in and got to the table, I took Mila’s hand to guide her to a seat. I immediately took the seat next to her, of course.

  How could I not? I was holding her hand. If either my brother or Aiden objected, it would look awkward and weird.

  It was true; I did have a tremendous amount of experience with the ladies. Mrs. Digby was really just the beginning. Since then, I had had a long line of relationships.

  Well, I guess you would call them more liaisons than “relationships”. The sex was pretty great and I had had a lot of fun playing the field, but lately I’d been looking for something more.

  Sex without love was an empty experience. It just was. No matter how much sex you had, it just couldn’t make up for the metaphorical hole inside you that could only be filled with love.

  No matter how long I was with a woman, I would always see the blinders drop at some point. Even when the sex and the partying was incredible, there’d be this moment afterwards.

  This moment where you wanted to connect, and the girl would either leave or roll over or just look at me like “What?” Or vice versa. The real bond was never there between any of them and me.

  With Mila, I had what I felt was an instant connection. First there was the jolt of electricity and now there was this time period where, thanks to the McDonnells being their normal jerkish selves, I was getting to know her and relax around her.

  Now was the time to explore whether or not that connection was real. There was a chance that I was just imposing it on her since I wanted it.

  Women had done that to me. They had wanted a longer relationship, but for whatever reason, it didn’t work. You couldn’t force something on someone just because you wanted it to be.

  I think a lot of times, people would be seeking a relationship to the exclusion of all else. They’d want a connection so desperately, they’d see it in the tiniest gesture. Even just simple politeness would be interpreted as love.

  I had learned that that was the pitfall I had to avoid, from either side, if I was going to find love. I couldn’t allow myself just to settle because I wanted a relationship. I had to know it was the right one. I had to look for the actions, not the words.

  As we sat down at the table, one of those actions became evident. Mila was still holding my hand under the table. I caressed her hand with my thumb and she did the same. Zaps of electricity were flying between us like crazy.

  Ha-ha, boys. I’m winning, I thought.

  I’m winning and ye don’t even know it.

  “All right, lads and lady,” said Donovan. “How about some hard ciders to get things going, eh?”

  “It’s a little early to tie one on,” said Mila. “Let’s just go with regular cider for now.”

  “Fine,” said Donovan, disappointed. “It’s not like I was trying to get ye drunk or nuthin’. This is just the way we do things in Ireland.”

  “You mean, loaded?” she asked.

  “Oh, aye,” said Donovan.

  “What’s good in this place?” she asked.

  “O’Grady’s got good hamburgers. At least by Ireland’s standards,” said Aiden. “I’m sure you’re used to good burgers coming from the land of burgers.”

  “We have other things to eat in America besides burgers,” Mila assured.

  “Oh, right,” laughed Donovan. “Ye mean the cuisines of every other country.”

  “We have plenty of our own foods,” assured Mila. “Why do you think we’re known for so much food? Every place in America is delicious. We got pizza.”

  “Stolen from the Italians,” noted Aiden.

  “We got barbecue,” she added.

  “Stolen from the Texans,” said Donovan.

  Mila turned and frowned at him.

  “That makes no sense,” she said.

  “What? Sure it does. I heard that Texas was to the United States what Ireland was to Great Britain. Ye know, always causing trouble and wanting to leave,” said Donovan.

  “The whole South has great barbecue,” said Mila.

  “Oh, aye,” I said. “Didn’t they make trouble and want to leave your country, too? Maybe it’s all that sugary meat. Angers up the blood.”

  “Well, what I should eat here is the point,” said Mila. “I can get a burger anywhere. I want something local and authentic and Irish.”

  “Well, ye can get a bowl of Irish Stew,” I suggested. “It doesn’t get more Irish than that.”

  “Or a pastie,” said Aiden. “Get one of those.”

  “What’s a pastie?” she asked.

  “It’s a meat pie with mince pork, onion and potato,” explained Aiden. “In fact, I think that’s what I’m having.”

  “Skirts and kidneys for something more adventurous,” suggested Donovan.

  Aiden and I groaned.

  “What? You don’t like kidneys? Who doesn’t like kidneys? Plus it’s got liver and bladder in there. It’s good for ye.” said Donovan.

  “Pastie it is,” said Mila, putting aside the menu.

  It was easy to maneuver around Donovan. Give him enough rope and he’d hang himself.

  He was always going off on this or that. Eventually he’d say or do something uncouth or get too drunk.

  Aiden would also be easy to beat. I simply had to be more aggressive than him and Aiden was the least aggressive lad I’ve ever met. He was more of a big soft sweetie.

  The waiter took our order and Mila finally got down to business.

  “What am I going to do about the McDonnells?” she asked. “My mother did all this research and I came all this way. It isn’t fair that they’re such a bunch of rude assholes.”

  “But they are,” said Donovan, putting his foot into his mouth as always.

  “Forget about the McDonnells,” I suggested. “You’re having a good time with us, right?”

  “Yeah, but I still have questions about who I am and where I came from,” she insisted. “You guys grew up around here. You know it all. You lived it. I was spirited away when I was a baby. My life could’ve been different. It could’ve been here.”

  “Yeah, you could’ve been a McDonnell,” said Aiden. “Think at what they would’ve taught ye. You would’ve been some haggard old crone with ten kids, no sleep and not a nice thing to say about anything. You’d be a bad witch, putting your powers to the worst use possible.”

  “See that?” added Donovan. “He just described Fiona McDonnell. That’s who you’d be. A younger version of Fiona.”

  “I certainly don’t want to be like that,” Mila said.

  I think she was beginning to reconsider her mission. It was probably for the best. I didn’t think she’d find out anything about the McDonnells that we or a police record couldn’t tell her.

  She may have had McDonnell blood, but like a flower born from dirt, she was not one of them.

  Plus, she was still holding my hand under the table.

  The food came, and we ate. Donovan was his normally sloppy self: slurping, dripping and wiping his face with his hand. It was kind of like sharing a table with a bear or a wild boar sometimes.

  In the middle of it all, I think he actually got embarrassed and picked up his napkin. He wiped his face, but it was too late.

  I think Mila raised an eyebrow as if to say, “Really dude? Holy shit, you’re sloppy.”

  Another point for yours truly.

  Aiden, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. Shy to the point of almost wanting to disappear, he alternated between trying to get himself in the conversation, to sulking. He barely touched his food.

  He was so preoccupied with trying to talk to Mila, I didn’t know why he had bothered ordering. His energy and his stance were awkward. You almost wanted to take him aside and calm him down. At a certain point, Mila must’ve been exhausted just trying to deal with him.

  Score another point for
yours truly.

  I was impossibly charming as always. First of all, I wasn’t nervous like Aiden. The key was not to over think the situation.

  Yes, I wanted to be with Mila very much, but not to the point where I’d let it distract me. Donovan, however, let everything distract him. He was more concerned with eating and getting drunk than he was with keeping his eye on the prize.

  My brother was definitely not winning this match up and I could hardly feel bad for him. In a few weeks, he’d be off with some other girl, probably the both of them getting in trouble over something.

  With the score favoring me, I went in for the kill shot.

  Stand aside, lads. This is how it’s done.

  “You know, Mila,” I said, smoothly. “Perhaps we need to relax to think best how to approach this. I have some marvelous apple wine back at my place. We could relax, get lubricated and I’m sure, together, we’ll think of the best way to approach the McDonnells.”

  “Killian,” she smiled. “I’m not getting drunk around you, so you might as well stop asking.”

  “Drunk? Whose talking about getting drunk?” I said innocently. “Surely one glass. You know, just to taste it.”

  “We could give you a tour of the orchard,” suggested Donovan. “We’ve got a great big farm not far from here. Some really nice horses, too.”

  Donovan, you idiot.

  I had her. I had her right in the palm of my hands and you say that.

  Dammit all.

  “Now that sounds like fun,” said Mila. “I’ve always wanted to learn to ride, but I never had the opportunity.”

  “Well, here’s your—” I began.

  “Well, here’s your opportunity,” said Donovan, talking over me.

  Fuck. I really had had her. I had her in my sights and my idiot brother blundered into me and made me miss.

  Ye broke the rules, Killian, I told myself.

  Always get them alone. Always. Never should’ve made the offer in front of them all.

  Oh. You’re like a schoolboy, Killian. A schoolboy would’ve made that fucking mistake.

  “Killian? Are you all right?” asked Aiden.

  “Yes, yes, of course,” I said, a little nervously. “Why wouldn’t I be? We’re going to take her on a tour of the farm. Should be fun. You don’t have to go if you’ve got things to do.”

  “No, I don’t, actually,” said Aiden, eyeing me warily.

  Dammit. Even Aiden sees through that.

  Why am I so off my game?

  It must be this handholding business. It got me too excited about her.

  Here I was, an experienced pick up artist, and I was making the most fundamental mistakes.

  Well, at least I know I want this girl.

  That could be the only explanation for my own behavior at this point.

  Chapter 10

  Killian

  After a nice meal at O’Gradys, we headed out to the Odell Orchard. When we got back in the car, I had to let go of Mila’s hand. I had won a battle, but I could clearly lose the war.

  It was clear to me now that she was trying to juggle all three of us. She was trying to make time with all of us.

  Could this be?

  Did she think she could pull this off?

  Date all three of us? Together?

  Well, I had to admire her ambition. It seemed pretty clear that she did like Aiden and Donovan for some odd reason.

  Perhaps she was just too polite to turn them down to their faces. Yes, that had to be it. She was just a polite American humoring the other two and waiting for her moment with me.

  “Oh, my God,” she said, walking through the apple orchard. “I had no idea you ran such a vast enterprise. And you two do all this yourselves? Run it, I mean?”

  “We co-own the business, yes,” I said. “Donovan is the brewmaster and I take care of most of the business side of things.”

  “The brewmastering is the most important part,” smiled Donovan. “You can’t win awards internationally and sell internationally without the great taste of Odell’s.”

  “And you equally can’t sell without a good logo,” added Aiden.

  “The logo was, technically, my idea,” I reminded him. “And you have to have a good salesman if you want to sell things. Can you imagine Donovan meeting with London distributors? I don’t think he even owns a tie.”

  Donovan frowned.

  I really got him with that one.

  Just a few weeks ago, I was complaining how he dressed for meetings and he didn’t have a tie.

  Well, technically he did, but it was from his school uniform when he was a boy. Ha. Talk about a win-win situation.

  Either I just scored against him with Mila or Donovan will finally go out and buy some proper clothes for when we meet with clients.

  “Here’s the stables,” I said, gesturing to the appropriate building.

  “Wow, it’s huge,” Mila said. “I’ve never seen one so big.”

  “Could you get the door, brother?” I asked Donovan.

  Donovan reluctantly opened the door. I could tell he was irritated. I guess the thought it was more of an order, like I was a boss. I was acting that way, but I wasn’t actually saying I was the boss.

  It was a perfect situation. If he said anything, he’d look sensitive and if he didn’t, he’d look like my stable bitch. Which he did.

  “Thanks, brother,” I smiled.

  Donovan made a low growling noise.

  The poor stupid elf. Deep down, he knew he couldn’t beat me in a fair fight. His rugged good looks and luck was all he ever had. You couldn’t beat charm, know-how and my well-groomed handsomeness.

  “Wow, look at all these guys,” said Mila excitedly. “Oh, my God. You guys own so many horses.”

  “In the winter, we have them pull the old Odell’s Hard Cider buggy,” explained Donovan. “Aiden did the design for the buggy, too.”

  “Just like the logo, it’s got that red bit on the top and the same logo on the side. So the logo’s on it, but it’s also laid out like one big logo, if you know what I mean,” Aiden explained. “It draws your eye right to the name.”

  “Aiden’s a genius with that, isn’t he, Killian?” said Donovan.

  Oh, I get where he was going now. If Donovan couldn’t beat me for Mila’s heart, he’d throw the game to Aiden.

  That crafty bastard.

  That was how jealous my brother was of me. All because I completely emasculated him in front of a woman he wants to date. Some nerve.

  “That’s right, Donovan,” I replied. “Mila, which horse would you like to ride? Donovan will saddle him up for you.”

  “Oh, they’re all so beautiful,” she said. “But I’ve never ridden. So one of the gentle ones, I think.”

  “I’ll find the most gentle horse in the stable,” I assured her. “And you, my dear, will have a gentle ride. Donovan, what about Pogo?”

  “Pogo’s a bit on in years, but he’s a fine horse,” said Donovan. “Good pick, Killian.”

  Wait a minute. What is he doing now? Complimenting me? Is he trying to play the nice guy now?

  Is that it? Be so nice that she picks him? No, that never works with women. What’s his game?

  God, Donovan. Just when I think I have you figured out, you adjust your strategy.

  This would be a fine thing to pick apart later. Even if I didn’t win — which was highly unlikely – the information I gained from trying to win over Mila would be invaluable for the future.

  But I would probably win.

  And I didn’t want to think of a future without Mila in it.

  What the fuck had come over me?

  This witch really did have a spell on me, to have me thinking of the future with her already.

  Donovan got the saddle and bridle on Pogo and led him outside. We helped Mila into the saddle.

  There was really no avoiding this being a group project now. I had tried my best to get Mila alone, but it wasn’t going to happen. Not today. The best I could do w
as continue to flirt with her as the three of us “dated” her.

  I had to hand it to Mila. She wanted a date with three guys and she got it. Well, I mean, she didn’t plan it at first and — wait a minute.

  Did she plan this whole thing?

  Was I missing the bigger picture? I mean, when women were smitten with me I could often get them to do things they wouldn’t normally do. Not that I did anything shady, mind you.

  But was Mila manipulating us?

  Did I fall into her trap?

  Did we all?

  Hmm, she just got a whole helluva lot more interesting.

  “Easy now, Pogo, easy,” said Donovan, leading the horse around.

  “Wow, this is fun.” Mila smiled.

  Mila waved to us watching at the edge of the corral, but then her hand went right back to the reigns. What was it with women and horses? They just loved them.

  Don’t get me wrong, they are magnificent beasts and all, but some women – and apparently even witches – could be absolutely obsessed with them. Usually from the time they were little girls. Little witches. Ha.

  “Oh, my God,” Mila laughed. “So much bouncing.”

  “You want to go faster?” tempted Donovan.

  “No, no, this is just fine,” she said.

  “I’m going to let go for a bit,” he warned her.

  “Well, okay,” she said, sounding a little unsure.

  Donovan let go of Pogo and he walked around the corral with Mila on her back. He slowed down quite a bit.

  He was going at his own pace. Then he stopped, bored with the entire enterprise.

  “What do I do?” asked Mila. “Is he mad?”

  “No, he’s just lazy and old,” said Donovan.

  “Give him a gentle nudge,” I suggested. “With your feet. Gentle. And make the click-click noise when you do it.”

  “C’mon, Pogo. C’mon,” she urged. “Click-click.”

  Pogo got the message and started clopping around again. He walked over to where Aiden and I were standing. I patted him on the nose.

  “Good boy, Pogo,” I said. “Good boy.”

  “Does he gallop?” she asked.

  “He has,” said Donovan, walking back up and taking Pogo by the bridle again. “Do you want to go on a gallop?”

  “No,” laughed Mila. “This is enough for now. I just wanted to try it. I need to get used to it. He has such power.”