Tobias had stomped into Bridget and Nolan’s little Craftsman and walked right past Kat without a glance. When Cal had joined him in the kitchen to have a friendly chat, warning his brother that he was not going to put up with his pissy mood, Cal’s stern warning died in his throat at Toby’s tortured expression. Toby had held up a hand, turned his back on Cal, and drained his beer before he said, “Let’s fucking get this over with so I can get the fuck home. I have a long-ass drive.”
Yeah. This was going to be awesome.
Now they were all sitting in the living room—Nolan and Bridget on one end of the sectional, Tobias in the lone occasional chair, and Cal and Kat on the other end of the sectional. Though, the way Kat was perched on the end, she seemed liable to run screaming out the front door.
“So let me get this straight: you just happened to meet Calhoun on the plane, and it was basically some giant coincidence that his brother was dating your best friend?”
At hearing Toby’s pointed but expected question, Cal closed his eyes and exhaled a quiet groan, which got him a sharp poke in the thigh with Kat’s pointy knuckle.
“Weirder things have happened. And I don’t think it was a coincidence; I think it was serendipity,” Kat replied. She’d stilled her jostling leg and laid her hand protectively on Cal’s thigh. Then she gave him a little squeeze after she’d answered, and he’d laid his hand over hers, hoping she’d realize his touch wasn’t to reassure her, but in thanks for reassuring him. She had this, and he wondered again what force brought her into his life.
“Serendipity?”
“Yes, it means ‘the occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way.’ ”
“I know what the hell serendipity means. I might have a ninth-grade education, but I’m not a moron.”
Cal dared to glance over to the other side of the sectional. Bridget was tensed, her eyes darting from Kat to Toby and back. Nolan looked like he was getting ready . . . to laugh? Then Cal looked at Kat, who had her head cocked to the side.
“I’m sorry, Tobias. That was snotty—of me, not you. It was uncalled for. But so was your insinuation that I’m some sort of conniving mastermind. Believe me, I’m not that organized. At least, not in my private life.”
Bridget piped up. “Man, she is a fuckin’ nightmare outside the office—”
“Birdie, you don’t have to agree so—” Kat interjected.
“Vociferously?” Tobias interjected.
Kat shot him a withering look. “Now you’re just showing off.”
Tobias shrugged, his face a sullen mask that would be recognizable on their father. Tobias might be a cranky bastard, but Cal had never known him to be downright mean. But from the way his bulk was sitting there in a cheery yellow chair, Tobias looked every inch his sour, bitter father’s son, and it both saddened and angered Cal.
“Toby, don’t.” Cal shook his head. “Just . . . don’t.”
Tobias ignored him and continued talking. “At least this one’s not half your age.”
Cal saw the almost imperceptible narrowing of Kat’s eyes as she tried to figure out exactly who Tobias was insulting. “I prefer to think that I’m twice as good as these young chippies,” she retorted.
Tobias stroked his beard, his eyes twinkling with something akin to respect, but not quite. “Fair enough, though I’m not sure what your angle is, girl.”
“My angle? What makes you think I even have an angle? Like I said, and Bridget confirmed: I’m no mastermind of anything.”
“Cal, you’d better watch this one.” Tobias kept his gaze pinned on Kat. “Because the ones who always insist on not being up to anything are the ones who are the biggest schemers.”
Before Cal could intercede, Kat leapt up and got in Tobias’s face. “What is your friggin’ problem? I am not your ex-wife. I am not Cal’s ex. I’m just me, and I’m trying to figure out what I’m doing, just like everyone else. I used to feel sorry for you, but you know what? Life is too damn short to put up with a bitter, nasty man who would rather wallow than be thankful that he has two brothers who care about him enough to tolerate this crap.” She flopped back onto the couch with her arms crossed over her body and her eyes blazing, and she was finished. “My God, you’re just as bad as your father.” Then she looked from Cal to Nolan and shook her head. “And you two?” She shook her fingers at the two younger Harpers. “You two are you just enabling him. The three of you are so flipping codependent that you can’t even see it. You all need to get a grip. Cal, are you ready to go?”
Cal was so in awe at Kat’s tirade that he didn’t realize she’d asked him a question, though it wasn’t really a question; it was more like an order disguised as a question. He scrubbed his face with his hands and nodded. “Sure, darlin’. I am more than ready.”
´*•.¸(*•.¸ *¸.•*´)¸.•*´
Kat had given Cal a bit of side-eye when they’d gotten to the apartment and he’d gone straight to the kitchen and she’d heard him fixing a drink, but then he’d appeared back in the living room with two glasses and the bottle of homemade soda. Now, they were on the couch, Cal with his feet on the coffee table and a glass of ginger ale, and Kat nestled into his side with her feet tucked under her. Kat had taken her hair down from her ponytail, and Cal had a strand of hair wrapped around his fingers.
“Well, that went in a whole different direction than I expected,” he murmured against her hair. “I’ll tell you what: you Southie women know how to put an obnoxious Harper in his place.” Kat raised her eyebrow in question, and Cal answered. “Bridget didn’t tell you about that?”
She turned to look at him. “No. What happened?”
“I wasn’t there—I was working—but apparently, Bridget stared Chet down within about five minutes of meeting him.” Cal snorted. “Our old man had this intense fire-and-brimstone preacher-man stare, like he was seeing your soul and every little transgression written on it, and your girl Birdie just dealt it right back at the bastard.” He huffed another laugh. “Damn, I wish I had been there.”
Kat chuckled. “Sounds like Birdie. All I can say is that we don’t like to be bullied.” Kat nuzzled deeper into Cal’s embrace, where she could hear his heart thumping under her ear. “Though, I have to say I wasn’t exactly fair tonight.”
“How so?”
“I could see his face reflected in the sliding glass door. He’s hurting, Cal. I mean, like a deep-down-to-your-core kind of hurt. It doesn’t give him an excuse to be a dick—and there is no way to describe his behavior tonight other than ‘dick-ish’—but maybe it’s an explanation?”
“Maybe.” Cal shrugged. “But maybe the old man finally poisoned him enough that Toby’s permanently damaged now. He didn’t use to be like this. I mean, he was always kind of an ass, but, hell, he was fifteen and had free rein to do whatever he wanted. And Lord knows what Chet was up to. Actually, no—Toby knew what he was up to. That’s why he hated him so much.”
Kat blinked. “So he really made him quit school at fifteen?”
“Yep.” Cal took a sip from his glass of ginger ale. “Man, I remember that day, too. I was twelve, and the two of us had been taking Nolan to choir practice at the church. I’m not musically inclined at all, so basically, I just flirted with all the girls in the choir. Nolan was the littlest angel because he was the small one, but he could remember all the lines. And Toby had a solo and played the organ.”
Kat watched Cal, his eyes far away, deep in his memories. “What happened, Cal?”
He shook his head like he was clearing a fog from his vision. “Oh, Chet found out and decided that he just had to pick up a last-minute Christmas show in Nashville. We were about to walk into the chapel, and Chet met us at the door. Told me and Nolan to go on in, and when we came home, Toby and Chet were gone. We didn’t see either of them until the day after Christmas. Chet spent the next week piss-ass drunk, and Toby spent the next week pissing blood. Merry fucking Christmas from the Harpers.”
“My God, that’s awful.”
“It is. Toby never went back to school, at least not full-time. He stayed in Nashville and played with Chet and sent as much money home to us as he could.” Cal pulled Kat close to him and eased them both back to lie on the couch. “So, you see, that’s kind of why we’re so enmeshed, you know? That’s why we put up with his shitty behavior. I know it’s not healthy—man, I’ve seen enough Dr. Phil, right? And you’re right, of course. It’s not an excuse, but it’s definitely an explanation.” Cal had stopped playing with her hair. In fact, he wasn’t moving at all; he’d wrapped one arm around her and held her close to him. “I still can’t believe you’re actually here. I’m so glad I didn’t have to wait another two months to see you.” He chuckled. “I was actually contemplating jumping on a plane today and surprising you because I didn’t think I could wait any longer.”
Kat sat up. “Oh my gosh, can you imagine? What if we’d crisscrossed and just missed each other? But that would have been just my luck.” She smiled at him and stroked his cheeks. She leaned in and kissed him, the rasp of the stubble on his jaw sending shivers down her spine. “I’m glad that didn’t happen.”
“I’m glad it didn’t, either.” Cal stroked the curve of her neck with the back of his fingers. “I’m just sorry that I have these meetings tomorrow. It’s probably going to take most of the day.”
Kat shrugged a shoulder. “You have a life, Cal. I just appeared out of nowhere. You can’t rearrange your life around me when you don’t know I’m coming.”
“What if I want to, you know, rearrange my life?” Cal pressed a single kiss into the palm of her hand. “That sounds a hell of a lot better than what I’ve got going on right now.”
Kat pulled back, putting space between them. “So, tell me what you’ve got going on right now.” She took a deep breath and plunged in. “If we’re going to do this, we need to do this, all of it, including the mundane and not-so-fun stuff. Hindsight being twenty-twenty, that was one of the issues with my marriage to Topher. We didn’t really ever fight, but we also didn’t have to work through much. I mean, we both had solid families, and while he had way more family money, my family didn’t ever really struggle, not like others. My parents had a happy marriage, and Topher’s family just ignores everything. I guess neither one of us had a very good model for matrimonial communication.” Now that she’d said her piece, Kat moved closer to him, hoping her physical nearness would encourage some emotional nearness. “So. Tell me. Please?”
“Tomorrow, the house we grew up in is being demolished. We all agreed that we weren’t going to go see it.”
“You’re having second thoughts?”
Cal shook his head, but the way he gathered her up into his arms told Kat that he might not be as sure as he claimed.
“I noticed that none of you said anything about the demolition.”
“Nope. And we probably won’t for a few years, because that’s how the Harpers roll: repression, suppression, and denial, at least until someone has to have a triple bypass at thirty-five.” Cal chuckled. “We’ve just now really been able to talk about how truly fucked up our childhoods were. Amanda got some of the blowback from that. I’ll cop to being shitty, and I’ll go even further and admit that that’s what happens when you date someone who’s young enough to be your daughter. There’s no way she was prepared to handle the fallout.”
“Did you love her? Like, love her?” The moment the words came out of her mouth, she regretted them.
“Yeah, I did. Um, probably not the way I should have, but yeah. I did love her, but I didn’t like her a lot, especially after the engagement.” Cal let his head flop onto the back of the couch.
“Do you feel better now? Talking about it?”
Cal tugged on her hips, urging her to climb into his lap. She swung her leg over him and settled down, chest to breast, face-to-face, and Cal’s hands immediately went to her waist and his lips to her neck. “Yes, I actually do,” he murmured against her neck. “But now I think I’m done talking, at least for tonight.”
Kat darted her tongue into his ear before whispering, “I think that’s absolutely fine.”