by Vivian Lux
RECKLESS FALLS BOOK TWO
by
Vivian Lux
Copyright 2017
All Rights Reserved
This book contains adult themes, explicit language and sexual situations. It is intended for mature audiences.
NOTE: All characters in the book are 18+ years of age, and all sexual acts are consensual.
Prologue
Callum
I stumbled, bleary and scratching, into the kitchen. On autopilot, I opened the cupboard to pull out the canister of coffee.
Only to find that the coffee was already out, grounds sprinkled liberally over the countertop like a trail of breadcrumbs leading to the coffeemaker.
Which was somehow already on, with a full pot sitting there waiting for me.
I stared at the coffeepot warily, like it had somehow gained sentience, and tried to quell the anger that was already heating up my bloodstream. But as I did, I became aware of several things.
The first thing I noticed was the overwhelming silence in the house. Grayson's snores were normally the soundtrack to my mornings, so loud they rattled the windowpanes.
The second was the already brewed coffee itself.
The third thing was the open carton of milk sitting on the counter — sweating condensation and slowly spoiling — number one on my list of pet peeves.
The pieces slid together and I sighed heavily as I reached up for my mug. I was pretty fucking proud of how even my voice sounded as I called, "Merry Christmas, you're up early. You trying to catch Santa?"
I heard the scrape of a chair across the floor as my housemate leaned back. "I'm not up early," Gray protested. "I'm usually up and out the door by now."
Frustration mingled with disbelief as I turned to face my best friend and recently acquired housemate. It was in the spirit of Christmas itself that I didn't leap across the room and strangle him to death.
"Bullshit," I said deliberately as I poured the milk into my coffee. Then I made a great show of opening the fridge and placing it back on the shelf with much flourish and fanfare. "See? See how easy this is?" I repeated. "I'm not asking you to move fucking mountains here. Just to put the fucking milk away when you're done with it. Like I've asked you to. Thirty billion times."
Gray grinned. "Sure man."
I closed my eyes and counted to ten, trying to call up happy memories that would remind me that I'd miss him once I buried him. "You got something going on this morning?" I asked. My voice sounded high and tight and unnatural.
But if he heard the tension there, he ignored it. Like he always did. Instead he blinked and said, "Nothing," far too innocently.
I turned and stared him down with my arms folded across my chest.
He tried to maintain eye contact over his coffee mug and failed miserably. "Just going out and getting a tree for the party."
I lifted my chin and resisted the urge to yell out "Gotcha!"
"The party," I said instead.
"Yeah," he said, squirming and not meeting my eyes. "The party, you know?"
"The McCabes' party?"
"Yeah man," He actually had the nerve to look excited. "Ma McCabe was all worried and shit about the tree they already have set up. Thought it was too little for that new place they have. I told her not to worry about it, that I'd handle it."
"Uh huh."
"What?"
"Nothing," I seethed. "So you're heading over to your uncle's place to buy a tree? Is he even open today?"
Grayson grinned. "Who said anything about buying?"
"Isn't Uncle Gerry gonna notice a giant tree missing from his farm?"
"Nah," Gray said, waving me off. "He always spends Christmas Eve until New Year's blind stinking drunk. It's a brotherly tradition."
I winced at the thought of Pierce Abbott, Grayson's piece of shit father and Uncle Gerry's sadistic older brother, getting blind stinking drunk. When Gray lost his job in August, he'd made mention of moving back into Pierce's house to save money on rent. I told him to cut the shit.
And that's how he ended up here, at my place, snoring like a motherfucker and leaving my milk out to spoil on the counter all the time. "So you're gonna give Ma McCabe a stolen tree for Christmas? You're one classy motherfucker."
Gray shrugged and slurped his coffee. "That's for damn sure. And I'd better get going, too."
I startled so badly that I nearly sloshed coffee down my chest. Fucking hell, I thought I had more time, I thought to myself. "You're seriously leaving now?" I said. "It's barely even eight o'clock."
Gray stood up from his chair and gave me one of those grins that made me want to smack him upside the head. "Aw, Callum, are you going to miss me?" he teased as he came over and dumped the rest of his coffee down the drain. "Did you want to wear matching footy pajamas while we open presents?"
I rolled my eyes. "No, asshole. I'm trying to figure out what you're up to."
"What?" Again with that innocent look and inability to maintain eye contact. "I already told you. I'm picking up a tree for Ma McCabe. I'm gonna cut it down and then run back here for a shower before I go to drop it off."
I stabbed my finger into his face. "Aha!"
"What the fuck, dude?" he asked as he swatted my finger away.
"You're showering before you bring it over."
"Yeah, you know, wrestling a tree into a flatbed is hard work. You'd know that if you bothered to do a bit of manual labor in your life."
"Fuck you, I lead outdoor expeditions for a living."
"Yeah, for overweight yuppies from the suburbs."
He had me there. I leaned back on the counter and flipped him off. He laughed that big dumb laugh of his. "So can I go now, Mom, or are you not done giving me the third degree?"
I sighed. I was. There wasn't any reason to ask anymore. I knew exactly what he was up to, because I was up to the same goddamned thing. Even though it was Christmas, we were both up early, ready to spend the day helping our friend's parents get ready for their annual Christmas Party. The earlier we started, the more time we'd get to spend staring at her.
Harper.
"Yeah, go, dumbass. I'll see you there," I said. He punched me a little too hard in the shoulder — Grayson's preferred method of saying farewell — and headed out the side door to the rusted out pick-up he somehow kept running.
He skidded out on the gravel drive, digging out another fucking rut in his haste to get going. To get the tree, to bring to the girl.
Harper.
My cock still did a little reflexive twitch when I thought about her. We'd had that one little moment at her graduation party. A stolen kiss down by the creek that ran below her parents' old place. The steep walls of the gully amplified every whispered promise I made, until I was sure we'd be caught. But she wasn't the one who'd called things off.
I was.
I couldn't do that to Gray.
She was my best friend's little sister, yeah. But more than that, Gray loved her in his ferociously obsessed way, and I couldn't break his heart like that.
Even if it meant I had to break mine.
It would be nice just to see her, though, I told myself. Just to catch up. She was tearing it up in New York, winning all these fancy children's literature awards and getting a ton of press. I was proud of her. She'd come a long way from the bossy kid sister who we'd tolerated tagging along. Even if nothing could happen between us, I still wanted to see her.
And fuck it. I wanted to see her first. Before him. It's why I'd woken up so early on Christmas morning in the first place. I'd wanted to have her to myself, just for a moment.
But Gray was apparently thinking the same thing.
Fucker.
So this was how it was going to work apparently. A fucking footrace to see her first. He was bringing his tree to the McCabes, and I was bringing booze, and whoever got there first got Harper all to himself.
There was no starting gun, but we were definitely off and running.
I poured my coffee down the drain and headed to the sho
wer. I only needed to load up a few cases from my Dad's bar. It wouldn't take me long. If I got going right now I'd definitely get to Harper first.
Before I had to share her with Gray.
Chapter One
Harper
It was one of those deceptively brilliant winter days in Reckless Falls. Where the sun shines brightly in the clear blue sky, but the air is so cold it takes your breath away. I woke up late in my parents' guest bed after the deepest, most restful sleep I'd had in months, possibly years, feeling pretty warmly nostalgic about spending the holidays at home with my family after missing it for so many years. I splashed some water on my face and hurried downstairs in my sloppy pajamas to be with them.
Only to realize that no matter how many years have passed, you'll always be the same in your family's eyes.
After we exchanged our presents, we gravitated naturally towards the gourmet kitchen of my parents' brand new showplace of a house. To eat, but mostly to drink and give each other giant, festive amounts of shit.
"And remember how she got stuck?" my mother laughed, already on her third cup of viciously boozy eggnog in spite of it being not quite noon. Her eyes were shining so happily that I cringed and let her tell the same story she always told about Christmas and my quest to prove that Santa was real. "I come downstairs to see these two little green legs dangling in the fireplace..."
"I thought she was wearing a nightgown," my brother Everett interjected, elbowing me. "I distinctly remember it getting stuck over her head while we pulled her out."
"Shut it, Judas!" I hissed.
But my mother was laughing even harder. "Oh you're right, because this wasn't the first time this happened! I mixed them up!" She dissolved into a hail of giggles.
"Yeah, yeah," I sighed, swishing my nog around in my glass. "Don't you have a party to get ready for Mom?"
My mother snapped to attention and clapped her hands. "We all do! Christ in a sidecar, where did the time go!" She looked me up and down. "Do you need to borrow something to wear, Harper?"
"No mother." I held up my hands to ward her off. "I have a party dress in my garment bag, don't worry."
"Well go put it on!" she clapped her hands at Everett and me and we scattered like a flock of chickens. "Go, go, wait...Everett, did you make sure the boys were coming over? I need Cal's ladder for the last of the garlands." She didn't wait for an answer, but headed into the kitchen.
I froze in place at the mention of Callum, but thank God nobody saw me. "He knows, Ma!" Rett shouted down from the balcony.
"Well text him to be sure!"
"Ma! He knows!"
"I need a drink," I said to the air.
"Liquor cabinet is that way," my father spoke up. It was the first word he'd gotten in edgewise all morning.
I brushed a quick kiss across his stubbly cheek. "Thanks Pops," I whispered, aware of my mom's superhuman hearing. "Hang in there."
He lifted his beer to his lips. "Always do," he whispered back.
The new liquor cabinet had these pretty little LED lights in recessed tracks along the top. Combined with the fairy lights my mother had casually, yet artfully arranged over the mirrored surface of the shelves, the effect was quite striking. "It looks like a UFO," my brother declared, suddenly appearing at my side with his arms folded over his chest.
"It looks like Shangri-La," I corrected, rushing to it "Where'd you come from?"
"Heard dad tell you where the booze was, this house carries sound really weird." He pointed up to the balcony. "Up there you can hear every whisper in the kitchen, but back in the family room it's like soundproofed." He turned back to the liquor cabinet. "Bourbon on the rocks," he ordered.
"Do I look like a cocktail waitress to you?"
"No, you look like my prodigal sister. Pour me a drink and I might think of forgiving you for leaving me alone in this town with these two nutcases."
I swallowed and deftly knocked out two very healthy pours of my Dad's good stuff. "Has it been so bad?"
"Nah, I'm just messing with you. They leave me alone most of the time. They’ve just been running me ragged with this new house. Bit different, huh?"
"That's the understatement of the year." I looked around. "Weird to come home to place that's not actually home."
"Yeah well, shit changes."
"Thanks for the philosophical wisdom, Socrates."
"Who?" He winked at me. "Don't get too drunk that you forget your outfit. If you're wearing sweats when the guests arrive Ma'll kill you herself."
"Ugh, can't I just hide in my room like when we were teenagers?"
"Don't do that until Cal and Gray show up. I need the moral support."
Cal and Gray. My heart started thudding so loudly in my chest that I swore that Rett must have heard it. If he knew how I felt about his friends, what would he do? He'd be completely disgusted. He'd never actually given me shit about who I dated, telling me it was none of his business, but I had a feeling he'd make this his business.
I muttered something non-committal and hurried to the guest room. Humming softly to myself, I started to lay out my collection of powders and brushes, when I froze.
What would Cal think if he saw me with my usual war paint on? Would Gray still like me if I was rocking my usual dramatic cat eye?
I stood there, fretting, until I decided to do what I usually did for talks. A very subtle shimmer on the lids and a soft sweep of coral powder on the cheeks.
When I looked at myself in the mirror, I looked like me. Same old Harper. But I didn't want to look like same old Harper. I was back in Reckless Falls where my do-gooder reputation as a children's book author meant nothing. Maybe I could punch it up?
I rarely wore lipstick, since I could never seem to manage to keep it off of my teeth. Carefully, I swept the slick, ruby red gloss over my lips and pressed them together.
And smiled.
Perfect.
I kept my lips pressed together so as not to smear on my dress as I pulled it over my head.
And pulled.
And yanked.
"Shit," I yelped. I hopped up and down. The dress didn't budge.
"Shit!" I repeated. I tried to pull the dress back up again, but it got caught on my boobs and wouldn't budge in either direction.
"Help!" I cried, stepping sideways and smashing into a wall I swore wasn't there a second ago. "Mom!" I wailed, and then remembered what Rett had said about sound carrying oddly in this house. I bumped along the wall in what I hoped was the direction of the door and then yelled, "Help!" at the top of my lungs.
I waited again. Visions of Cal and Gray showing up while my dress was still stuck over my head sent me into a panic. For a second I thought I'd be trapped forever with this skirt over my head.
Then I heard footsteps on the stairs. "Mom!" I called, in abject relief. I would recognize that walk anywhere.
My mother turned the corner into the guest room and burst out laughing. "Oh dear, are you stuck?"
"Help!" I begged. My mouth was full of crinoline.
My mother tugged the zipper down maybe just a millimeter but that was all the ease I needed to slip the bodice the rest of the way down. "Oh thank God," I breathed in relief. "I was freaking out."
"I just had a flashback to the chimney," my mother giggled. "Only this time, instead of your trapped legs flailing around, it was your arms.
I sighed. "I'm doing nothing to dispel that memory, am I?"
"I will never forget that. My bold daughter, going out there to prove her beliefs. It was one of my proudest moments."
I looked at her, oddly touched. "Thanks, Ma." Emotions that I couldn't name welled up inside of me, a deep and profound nostalgia. I was home. I turned away before I randomly started to cry. "Zip me?" I asked her. "Since I clearly can't be trusted to dress myself?"
"Oh Harp, you look great!" My mother clapped her hands. "So Christmassy!'
I spread my hands over the red satin and smiled. It had been a triumph to get my mother to let me pick out m
y own dress since usually she insisted on the family being coordinated. Wearing something flattering had been a hard won fight.
"Thanks."
"But you need to wear this."
I took the elf-hat from her and regarded it balefully. "Really mom?"
"We're all wearing them."
"If I have to, you have to," Rett growled from the doorway. His elf hat was green with a little pompom at the end and it made me feel marginally better to see that he also looked ridiculous.
"I have some for Cal and Gray too," my mother fretted. "You think they'll wear them?"
"If you ask them," I soothed. "They'll do anything you say."
"Or, failing that," Rett said. "Have Harp ask them."
He said it as casually as can be but it didn't stop my cheeks from flaming.
Chapter Two
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?"
