Callum

 

The winding drive up to the top of the hill was so different from the old house, that for a second, my mind rebelled and I had to force myself not to turn around and go back to the old McCabe place. This new, fancy house on the hill was nothing like the warm, tiny cabin, with its hand-hewn walls that seemed to be suffused with laughter and happy memories. This new place was too big, too flashy, too over the top to ever feel like my second home.

Then Mrs. McCabe spotted me from the window and came rushing out, wiping her hands on the sides of her pants before hugging me and everything felt right again.

"Thank you," she said, looking me in the eye. "And thank your father too. This is so generous of him."

She was lovely and sweet. She was the best second mother a guy could ask for.

She was smothering me to death.

I gently extracted myself from her clutches.

"Stop it, Mom," I said, trying to duck away from her nervous fluttering. "Dad said it's a gift, so don't you worry about it." I went around to the back of my car and popped the trunk. Mrs. McCabe followed me around, wringing her hands worriedly. "That looks like so much," she said. "But do you think it will be enough? I'd hate to run out of anything. What if more people come than I'm expecting?"

I chuckled as I stared down at the trunk packed full of beer and liquor from my father's bar. "Trust me, if we get through all of this?" I told her. "Then we deserve to be cut off."

Mrs. McCabe followed behind me, as I hefted the first case into the huge gourmet kitchen. "Are you sure you don't need help? I can call Rett down. I would pick something up myself..."

"Don't you dare, Mom," I told her. "Where do you want me to put this?"

"We have a fridge for the beer over there in the back room," she said pointing.

I looked over to where she was pointing. "In there?"

She was already fluttering back into the kitchen. "It should be in there, I told Vern to make sure he got it out of storage. If he didn't, you tell me and I'll go get him myself."

I shook my head. "I wouldn't sell out Dad like that," I said.

A sudden thought occurred to her and she bustled back to tug on my arm...even though I hadn't broken eye contact with her yet. "Speaking of Dad, yours is coming tonight, right?" Mrs. McCabe asked worriedly.

I leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. "You need to stop worrying," I told her, looking her in the eye. "Everything is going to be wonderful, even better than you can imagine."

She nodded. "Thank you Cal. It's nice to know at least one of you boys turned out with a good head on his shoulders."

"I heard that!" Everett called from the living room. He came around and shook my hand. "Need some help with that?" he asked.

"Hey there, your sister's here, right?" I said, trying to disguise the excitement in my voice.

"Yeah." He sort of looked nonchalantly behind him. "She's upstairs getting changed, I think."

I nodded and tried not to think about Harper, upstairs, in whatever state of undress she was in. And instead I walked over to the back room.

The fridge was right there in the corner, completely empty and waiting to be stocked. I knelt and started loading it up with the practiced hand of a kid who grew up working in a bar, while around me the sounds of the party preparations rang out through the house. I heard Mrs. McCabe call something up the stairwell. A faint female voice drifted back down again, and my heart started thudding in my throat.

It'd been three years since I last saw Harper, while a bunch of us were hanging out over Christmas at my dad's bar. It'd been five years since she'd been home for any length of time. And it had been seven years since her graduation party, when I grabbed her by her shoulders and kissed her and told her I've loved her forever.

I stood up and made my way back through the kitchen, listening to the echoes of the McCabes in various parts of the house. Out in the driveway, I hefted two cases of beer onto my shoulder and started picking my way carefully into the house again.

"Dude, seriously?" I heard a voice say. "You're gonna drop that. Give me one." I felt a tug and stumbled backward a little.

"Wait, no..." her hand on the case was throwing my weight distribution off. I danced forward. "Harper, I've got it."

"You're such a control freak, here, let me help you," she said, tugging harder. "It's falling off..."

"That's because you're grabbing me... oh...oh shit..."

"It's sliding!"

"I know! Because you...watch out!"

She jumped backwards just as the entire case of beer, all twenty-four bottles worth, came crashing down off my shoulder and shattered at my feet. A tidal wave of beer sprayed upward, soaking me from head to foot.

"Oh," Harper said softly.

Carefully I set the other case on the kitchen island and looked at my soaked clothes. "Hi, Harper," I sighed.

"Here," she said, suddenly springing into action. "Give me your shirt. You're soaked."

"Harper, I'm not going to..."

"Oh, would you stop being so stubborn? I'll just throw it in the laundry. You can borrow one of my dad's until it's dry."

Vern McCabe was five inches shorter and about thirty pounds lighter than me. "I don't think that's..." But she was already tugging my shirt over my head. "Harper..."

"Just take it off, it's no big deal here, give me your pants..."

"What on earth?"

We both froze. And my heart dropped through the floor and just kept going. Mrs. McCabe stood there with her hand over her mouth, watching her daughter strip me naked in the kitchen.

Harper leapt back, cheeks coloring the same furious scarlet as her dress. And even in all this mess, I still had to take a moment to appreciate how fucking beautiful she was. Her honey blond hair was cut shorter now, and the way it swung around her shoulders as she hid her face in her hands had me thinking very inappropriate thoughts...thoughts I should definitely not be thinking in front of Mrs. McCabe...as I stood almost naked in her kitchen.

"We had a bit of an...alcohol problem," Harper finally sputtered, gesturing at the floor.

"I see that," the utterly unflappable Mrs. McCabe observed. "Vern?" she called into the house. "Everett? We need help down here. Bring towels please."

"Um, could I get a shirt?" I asked.

Everett growled as he strode into the kitchen. "The fuck do we have here?"

"Callum dropped the beer," Mrs. McCabe sighed.

"I didn't..." I looked over at Harper. "Yeah," I sighed.

She mouthed a small "thank you," and suddenly standing there in front of her family, nearly naked and smelling like a distillery was all fucking worth it. 

"So, uh, who wants a beer? Me!" she exclaimed, raising her hand. "Cal?"

"Uh, yeah I could use one. Thanks man," I said to Everett as he slammed a shirt into my chest.

"It's more for me than for you," Rett growled. Then he nodded as his mother started directing the clean-up.

I shifted out of the way, over to the side of the kitchen and struggled into the too-small shirt, nearly getting it stuck on top of my head. When I finally stretched it across my chest, I swore I caught Harper watching. I grinned at her and she responded with a wink that made my dick do a pirouette, and then lifted her beer to her lips.

"Guess I'm still as graceful as always," she laughed as she kept her voice down. "Thanks for taking the fall for me."

"Always," I grinned. "Where's my hug?"

"Right here...even though you smell like a bar at closing time," she smiled, wrinkling her nose.

"Hey kid," I said, stepping into her open arms. She gave me a quick, chaste, sisterly hug, but there was no telling my dick that. It still stiffened the second I smelled her shampoo. Thank God she never changed it. "How've you been?"

"It's been a weird twenty-four hours," she said, sighing and taking another pull from her bottle. "Going right from a Christmas Eve speaking thing to the airport, flying here to come back home again and waking up in a brand-new house I've never seen before. I kinda feel like I have whiplash."

I felt like I should be saying something, commiserating in sympathy, but the way her lips wrapped around the neck of the bottle had my thoughts drifting elsewhere. She chugged the beer, and then pressed her hand against her mouth, belching quietly.

"Oh come on," I grinned. "You can do better than that. I've heard you get out some big ones before."

She laughed and slapped me in the arm. "You have not!" she whined, bouncing up and down on her toes in that charmingly childish way she had, I almost wished she was wearing her hair in pigtails again, because maybe that would have me feeling brotherly towards her instead of feeling like some kind of pervert. How could I be carrying a torch for my best friend's kid sister, and how the hell had it lasted this long?

Everett suddenly appeared at the counter. "My mom'll finish with the mopping. Cal, can you give me a hand? Mom's asking me to hang some more lights. She's not going to stop until you can see this place from space."

"Ah darn, guess I can't do it, being dressed for the party already," Harper grinned, reaching for another beer.

"No, you get to help with the food prep," Rett informed her. "Have fun with that."

"Goddammit," Harper whined. "Cal, save me."

"Kid, I know better than to mess with your mom's kitchen," I told her. I leaned over and took the opportunity to kiss her cheek. Her lips were right there...but so was her brother.

I turned to follow Rett, but I wished like hell I didn't have to leave Harper behind. She was only going to be home for the next week, I needed to get my fill while she was here.

I followed Everett around to the front of the house and he punched the code on the wide garage door. "I have no idea where anything is around here, but I'm assuming the lights are in the garage," he mumbled.

Just then the sound of tires on pavement attracted our attention. We turned around to see a beat up old pickup straining its way up the driveway, completely enveloped by a Christmas tree so big that the wheel wells were practically touching the ground.

"Is that Gray?" Rett asked.

"Oh, that idiot," I muttered.

Grayson threw on the parking brake and jumped out of the driver's seat, pounding his chest. "Score one for me!" he said, breaking out into a little shuffle. "Ma McCabe is going to like me best now! Look at the size of that thing!"

"Yes, well, we all know you're compensating for something," I drawled.

Gray shot me the middle finger. "Hey man, nice shirt. You smell like my Great Aunt Hilda," he grinned, waving his hand under his nose. "Help me get this bitch off of here, I had a hell of a time strapping it down."

"No shit you did," Rett groused. "That's completely illegal and completely unsafe. Surprised you didn't drive off the road."

"Never happened," Gray said, puffing his chest.

"Harper's here," I blurted. "I just saw her." Why did I feel like I needed to fucking lay claim or something? But I did.

Gray looked at me. Was that a flicker of disappointment in his eyes? Yeah, probably. Why did that make me happy? Like this was some kind of pissing contest. "Cool. You must be happy to see her," he said, his voice oddly flat.

"Sure," I replied, equally flat. Both of our gazes flickered over to where Everett was standing, assessing the giant Christmas tree with no idea of the silent standoff that ensued.

I took a deep breath. "Go grab an end," I told Gray.