Page 41 of The Scald Crow

“Right corner.” I shot the cue ball off the left bank, sinking the eight ball and winning the game.

“Deadly. Who’ll play the champ?” Oisin lifted my arm high into the air.

“I’ll play you, Colm O’Donnell.” The queen of the night glided across the room. Her fragrance hit me first, a warm, citrusy scent crafted to lure her victim.

I met her gaze and drowned in limpid silver pools.

“You know her?” Oisin’s eyes popped out of his head.

“This is my brother, Oisin.” I stumbled over my words—so much for playing it cool.

“Was it you who ran my sheep from the road?” Oisin’s eyes glazed over, captivated by her charms.

“Yes, it was. I’m so sorry.” Her voice unlocked the spell, and Oisin returned to himself.

“Ach, no worries. The damn beasts get me into all sorts of trouble. Just glad you’re all right, lass.” He nodded his head, handing Calla his cue.

“There’s Cillian, Hugh Jr., and Tadgh.” I pointed at the three brothers leaning against the back wall.

“Hello.” Her gaze flickered from one to the other, acknowledging them.

“I didn’t know it was your birthday.” I gazed at the Faerie girl because that’s what she was. Was I enchanted? Captivated? I was all of those things.

“Are you ready to lose, Mr. O’Donnell?” She chalked the tip, then blew dust fragments through the stale air, enchanting the room.

“Aye, she’s good craic.” Oisin chuckled, a wave of heat filling his face.

Her eyes bored into mine, setting my heart on fire and my nerves tingling. ‘Tingle,’ a word not part of my vocabulary.

“G’wan, ya hoor, there’s a fiver in it for ye.” Tadgh nudged my elbow, offering a bet.

“He’s got it bad, aye?” Pádraig sallied forth, offering a tray of chocolate-covered scones. “Hello, Sweetheart. I’m Pádraig, the most talented O’Donnell brother. Did we meet the other day?”

“From across the road. I’ve heard all about your sticky buns.” She winked, sending Pádraig into a fit of chuckles. She took a bite of the flaky delight, closing her eyelids and murmuring her enjoyment. “This is amazing.”

“Are you married? Not for me, mind. There are several eligible bachelors in the room.” Pádraig turned his eyes toward me.

“Nope, not married.” She twirled one cascading lock behind her ear. “Would you like to break?”

“You go ahead.” I nodded toward the table, unable to keep my thoughts straight.

She tapped her fingers and then, without hesitation, bent at the waist and lined up her shot. She thwacked the cue ball, sending stripes and solids flying in all directions, sinking two solid balls in the corner pockets.

"Deadly." Oisin’s face showed a blend of wonder and fear.

Cillian nudged Tadgh.

Pádraig placed his platter of sweets on a nearby table.

She circled, the hem of her dress swishing with every turn of her hips. She languished, resting the cue on the curve of an uplifted thumb while sinking one solid ball after another.

I scratched my forehead, studying all the striped balls decorating the green felt.

“Game shot.” Pádraig shuffled across the floor, gaining a better view.

The eight ball sat in a precarious position, blocked by two striped balls.

“Impressive.” I circled the table, eyeing up the difficult shot.

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