Cal held Kat’s hand during the ride from the airport to Bridget and Nolan’s place in an area of Atlanta called Cabbagetown, but she couldn’t quite decide if he was hanging on to calm her or himself down. They spent most of the ride in silence, except when Cal would point out a landmark of interest. Kat used these small interludes to discreetly examine Cal, who seemed unusually tense. Finally, she couldn’t stand it any longer.

“Cal, did I disrupt something you had planned? If so, tell me and I won’t be offended at all. You don’t need to be rearranging your life be—”

“Just stop, Kat,” he barked but then gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “There is absolutely nothing else I’d rather be doing than spending time with you, okay? I’ve got a big meeting tomorrow, but after that? I’m all yours.” He pressed his lips to the back of her hand. “I’m all yours,” he repeated.

“Okay. Okay.” Kat smiled at him, but she was pretty sure he wasn’t convinced, because, heck, she wasn’t convinced that this trip was a good thing. Then again, if it was a disaster, better to find out that they were going to be incompatible now, just six weeks in, rather than waste months or years lying to themselves. But she sure hoped it was a good thing, because even kind of disgruntled and distracted, Cal still made her tummy flip-flop.

“I just want to warn you, though, that I had an argument with Tobias this morning. It . . . wasn’t good. I’ve already called him to try to work through it, but Toby’s kind of a . . .”

“Grouch?” Kat suggested. “Curmudgeon? Crankypants?”

Cal finally smiled and chuckled a little. “More like ‘giant fucking asshole,’ I hate to say. But you know what? Pay him no mind, or try to. He’s a miserable jackass who wants everyone else to be a miserable jackass.”

Kat nodded. “But he’s your brother.”

“Yeah, he’s my brother.” Cal cleared his throat. “So that’s a bit of background as to what’s going on with me. I wanna know what really happened with your job, but I’ll wait for Bridget to interrogate you so you don’t have to repeat the same story.”

Kat laughed because her best friend would definitely be interrogating her and most likely wanting to go to Boston and kick everyone in the balls, which was a formidable threat, seeing as she was the women’s featherweight champion.

Cal turned off the interstate and ventured to Intown Atlanta, again sharing tidbits about the local history.

“It started as a factory town around the textile mills. In fact, the building that houses the gym where Bridget trains was once one of the smaller mill buildings,” Cal explained as he turned the corner. “And the row of houses were built for the workers to live in. Now, it’s mostly gentrified.” He swallowed hard. “Pickett and Spence is not far at all, right in the thick of the new development.”

Kat gave his hand a reassuring squeeze as Cal pulled into the driveway of a small Craftsman. He turned off the engine but didn’t make a move to get out.

“You ready?” he asked.

“It’s going to be good. And if it’s not, well, it’s not.” Kat peered at the cheerful yellow house. “It won’t be the end of the world.”

Cal stroked her hair and let his hand rest on the back of her neck. “You ready?” he asked again.

She turned and flashed a timid smile at him. “Maybe. Maybe not. But we’ll get through it, right?”

Cal seemed to fully exhale for the first time since they’d gotten into the car. He leaned over, cupped her face in his hands, and pressed his lips to hers. When he broke the kiss, Kat pulled him back to her to avoid saying the words she wasn’t quite sure that she was ready to say nor that he was ready to hear. They were still lip-locked when she heard her best friend bray her name.

“Fahey, get your ass in this house, and bring Harper.” Bridget was hanging out the door, leering at them. Then Nolan came out to the front porch and added to the catcalling.

“Feeling special yet?” Kat said with a wink, which prompted a full-blown fit of guffaws from Cal.

“Hey, girl.” Nolan gave Kat a bear hug that lifted her off her feet.

“Oof! What is it with you Harpers that makes you want to pick me up?” Kat mock-groused. In reality, she was delighted for them to throw her around like some petite thing, which she most certainly wasn’t. “And I’m glad to see you, too, Nolan,” she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“Let’s get inside. I need to know what the hell is going on.” Bridget shooed them into the house, and after a few more moments of small talk, they drifted toward the dining area, with Cal, Kat, and Bridget having a seat at the small dining room table and Nolan heading into the kitchen.

“Need any help?” Cal asked.

Nolan poked his head around the corner. “Did you just ask if I need help?” He came out of the kitchen and placed three plates of hors d’oeuvres in the center of the table before taking one of the two empty seats. “Kat, what the hell did you do to him? He’s almost . . . pleasant.”

Cal flipped Nolan off. “Better?”

Nolan snorted. “No, not better, but expected. Welcome back, asshole.” He fussed with the plate a bit until Bridget playfully slapped at his hand. “Toby’s coming from the studio, and you know how he and Mick lose track of time when they’re mixing, so I made up some small plates.”

“Okay, girlie. Spill it.” Bridget grabbed a canapé from a plate. “What did Toe Jam do?”

Cal choked on a cracker, and Kat pounded him on the back until he could speak. “ ‘Toe Jam’? That’s hilarious. Immature, but hilarious.”

Bridget shrugged a shoulder. “What can I say? He brings out the twelve-year-old hooligan in me.”

Kat sighed, feeling the creep of a headache coming on, though she didn’t know if stress or Gentleman Jack was the cause. Nevertheless, she told the group what had transpired since she’d returned to Boston from Ireland. Carefully avoiding Cal’s eyes, she recounted the jabs, the nastiness, and the increased physical hostility that she’d endured during the previous weeks.

“I’m calling Uncle Danny.” Bridget sat up straight in her chair, hands clenched into fists, looking every inch the fighter that she was. “That ass Reynolds needs a good talking-to.”

Kat groaned. “This is exactly why I didn’t tell you two what was going on earlier.” She did not need Bridget’s thug of an uncle confronting Topher. “At least I don’t have to see him at work anymore, right?” She gave the table a weak grin, hoping they’d finished the discussion. Unfortunately, Bridget didn’t seem ready to drop it.

“You got passed over, year after year, while that fuck sat in the office you should have gotten.” Bridget nailed Kat with a pointed glare so strong that Kat thought she could physically feel it. “Good riddance to old rubbish,” Bridget exclaimed with a flourish, rolling her Rs in an exaggerated brogue. “You know damn well you should have reported all this shit years ago, Katleen.”

Kat groaned. When Bridget lost her th’s, someone was getting ready to get a beating, usually verbal, but sometimes physical.

“Calhoun, what do you have to say about this fuckwad’s treatment of your girlfriend, hmm?” Bridget’s eyes blazed at Cal. Kat turned to look at him because his silence worried her. They’d only been together a few months, and physically in each other’s presence for just a scant ten days, but Kat was pretty sure that Cal was the type of man who was of the “silent and deadly” variety.

Cal cracked his neck. “Did he put his hands on you?” His voice was soft and scary.

“He grabbed me a few times, but that was pretty par for the course.”

“Like that time in Ireland?”

Kat squeezed her eyes shut. “Yes,” she whispered.

´*•.¸(*•.¸ *¸.•*´)¸.•*´

Cal was furious. No, he was enraged, or some similarly strong word that meant he was about to lose his damn mind.

“Cal . . .”

“Can it, Nolan.” Cal shifted in his seat, tapped his foot, ran his hands through his hair—anything to not blow up. When he was finally calm enough to speak, he whispered, “That motherfucker better pray that he doesn’t need to come to Atlanta.” He turned to Kat and took her hand. “Darlin’, I wish you would have said something.”

“I know I should have. I did say something in my exit interview. I know it probably won’t matter because I was married to him and continued working with him for so many years after we divorced, but at least I said something, finally. God, I have a headache.”

Bridget patted her hand and got up from the table, and Nolan ducked into the kitchen with an excuse of checking on the dinner, leaving Kat and Cal alone.

“I meant what I said earlier.” Cal gathered up her hands in his, pressing his lips to them.

“I know, but what could you do?” Kat shrugged a shoulder.

Cal sighed and considered what he could have done if he had known. Gone to Boston to physically beat the shit out of Toe Jam? He wouldn’t be able to be supportive if he was locked up by Boston’s finest. Mount a smear campaign about what a pig Topher was? Unfortunately, the restaurant business was full of pigs, and some ousted bartender wasn’t going to make a difference. No, ultimately, he wouldn’t be able to do much.

“I could have supported you, even though I would have wanted to come to Boston and jerk a knot in that son of a bitch,” Cal confessed.

Kat laughed. “I know.” Kat leaned her forehead on Cal’s shoulder. “And I appreciate it—even the sentiment of you throwing Topher a beating.” She sighed, and Cal rubbed her back until her stomach rumbled. “Oh God, how embarrassing,” she groaned.

Bridget and Nolan came back to the table, Bridget bearing a headache remedy and a glass of water and Nolan carrying three more plates.

“Toby just texted me and said to start without him and that he’d catch up with us in a bit.” He set the plates down in the center of the table and replaced the small plates with dinner plates. “So I’m going to take him at his word.”

Cal clucked his tongue. “Brave man, but then again, you could always get away with more than I could.”

“Because you two are too much alike,” Nolan stated, and Bridget nodded.

Cal considered Nolan’s words and realized they were true, in more ways than one. Between the cheating wives and their less-than-sparkling personalities, Cal and Toby had more in common than not.

Huh.

“So what is he working on? Something new? He didn’t talk much about what he’s doing in the studio.” Cal didn’t like to think about that either. He should have been more open to his older brother instead of wallowing like some poor sack of shit.

“Hey, man. That’s on Toby, not you.” Nolan shook his head. “Like I said, you two are exactly the same, exactly.” He chewed a little bit more. “I do know She showed up at the studio a few nights ago, drunk and tearful about Chet.”

Cal groaned. “Motherfuck.” He turned toward Kat and Bridget, who were having some sort of silent female conversation that consisted of grimaces and eye rolls. “I’m going to apologize in advance for my big brother, Kat. He’s going to be in a shit mood and will most likely be a royal jackass.”

“Oh, o . . . kay?”

“It’s not okay, but that’s what he does: acts like a jerk to everyone except the person who deserves it.” Kat arched an eyebrow at Cal, who just grunted again and pointedly ignored the hypocrisy of his statement. “So, yeah.”

“I’m assuming this She is his ex-wife?” Kat quirked an eyebrow at Cal. He’d told her Tobias was divorced, but he hadn’t gone into the details of exactly how fucked up the whole situation was.

“Yes, She is his ex-wife—”

“And also Chet’s kind-of wife,” Nolan interjected.

Cal sighed. “Yes, and also Chet’s common-law wife.”

“Oh, wow.” Kat’s eyes were huge. “Wow. Uh, so, holidays were interesting?”

Cal and Nolan looked at each other, and then both cracked up.

“Oh, man. I like you a lot, Kat. Big Brother, you’d better not fuck this up,” Nolan chortled and snapped a carrot with his teeth.

Kat squeezed Cal’s knee under the table, and he gave her a wink and then leaned over for a kiss. As she pressed her lips against his, Cal was both elated and worried, and he hoped like hell this wasn’t going to be as much of a disaster as it had the potential to be.