| |
––––––––
Did you enjoy Original Sin?
Follow Lydia Michaels on Facebook and Instagram to find out when the next story in The Order of Vampires series is coming!
Wait!
Claim your gift of a FREE BOOK!
Enjoy this sneak peek into the first book of the McCullough Mountain series.
This 8 book, small town, BIG family romance is sure to capture your attention for a while!
Ready to dive in?
Or
Scroll down to read the first chapter of ALMOST PRIEST
––––––––
ALMOST PRIEST
McCullough Mountain #1
Chapter One
She was making a mistake, Samantha thought for the hundredth time that evening. She distracted herself with her phone as they headed over the interstate toward the darkening west. Braydon tapped out a beat on the steering wheel as the chiming sounds of Coldplay filled the car. Unlike Sam, he appeared to be suffering from zero misgivings about this trip.
The signal finally picked up on her wireless network and she quickly logged into her mobile email. Grades had to be posted by now.
“You get through?” Braydon asked at her sigh of relief.
“Yeah, let’s just hope it loads.”
“The closer we get to Center County the harder it’ll be to get a signal. I don’t know why you’re worried anyway. You know you got an A.”
Sam tapped her foot on the carpeted interior of his Passat with fidgety impatience. The chances of her getting less than an A were unlikely, but she wouldn’t be able to relax until she knew for sure.
“I probably wouldn’t be so concerned if it was a normal semester for me, but student teaching and senior seminar ate up all eighteen of my credits this semester. That one grade carries more weight than a typical three credit course.”
He shook his head in resignation. “Samantha, you showed up every day, your cooperating teacher loved you, the principal of the school requested you to forward your résumé directly to her when you graduate, and you’ve carried a four point oh GPA since you were a freshman. You shouldn’t be stressing over this.”
She pursed her lips as the swirled rotary image cycled on her phone. There seemed to be a cyber traffic jam at thirty percent loaded. “Come on.” Her phone suddenly let out three obnoxious beeps and informed her that the wireless connection failed. “Damn it!”
“When we get to the house you can use my parents' computer.”
“I don’t want to impose. Can we stop at a McDonalds or some other fast food place with wifi before we get there?”
Sam didn’t share Bray’s amusement when he chuckled. “Samantha, we don’t have fast food joints out here. Just let it go. Once grades are out there’s nothing you can do about them anyway. Put your phone away and embrace the fact that you have three weeks of vacation before you have to even think about college again.”
He was right. She sighed and slipped her cell back into her bag, but for some reason she still couldn’t relax. Rather than stress about her grades or the fact that she was only six credits away from graduating, she stressed about their journey.
It was the start of summer, yet to Sam it was the end of an era. Her flip-flops and shorts were only irrelevant accessories. Her mind was solely focused on the light at the end of the tunnel. As the air from the sleek black vent on the dash tickled her exposed knees, Sam imagined what the end of the summer would feel like. Such relief. By mid-August she’d be, if everything went according to plan, settling into her new classroom and zipping through textbooks and novels for her lesson plans.
She shouldn’t have agreed to go home with Braydon. She wasn’t sure why he even asked in the first place. The minute they pulled onto the highway, however, the belated acknowledgement that they were in a relationship set in. For some reason it never occurred to her to see their acquaintance that way. Sure they had a mild, mutual attraction and shared a few meals and kisses together, but as far as being a couple, well, Sam wasn’t quite there yet. She only hoped his family didn’t read too much into the significance of her visit.
The truth was she never would’ve agreed to join Braydon if her parents weren’t in Florida for the month. The idea of returning home to her mom and dad’s empty house seemed a depressing way to spend her summer break. It was the image of her watching played-out movies on basic cable, never once taking off her slippers, and destroying one pint of Ben and Jerry’s a night, that struck her as pathetic and had her quickly agreeing to spend her break with the McCulloughs. Now she was thinking she would’ve been better off returning home and waiting it out on her own.
Braydon laid his hand on her thigh and gave an affectionate squeeze. His hands were large and masculine, but pampered and surprisingly smooth. “It’ll be fine. You’ll see. You’ll love the mountains.”
Samantha offered a halfhearted nod and settled further into her seat. She’d never been this far away from the suburbs of Pennsylvania other than her time in the city and was unsure what to expect. She’d probably get a crash course in nature and the great outdoors over the next three weeks, but she wasn’t worried. She prided herself on her ability to adapt to almost any setting.
This would be an adventure of sorts, a chance to learn, and experience new things. She just hoped the McCulloughs didn’t mind her being there. Houseguests were tedious no matter how loved, after a certain length of time.
Braydon had a large family. Hopefully she could fall into the shadows and not cause too many waves in their normal routine. “Who’s going to be there? At the house I mean.”
“Well, you got my mom and dad, Sheilagh, who’s graduating in a few days, Kelly, who’ll probably live with my parents until he’s forty. If Colin isn’t there already he’ll be there eventually. Kate and the kids will be around, but she lives close so she’ll travel back and forth. You’ll get to meet Morai and Nonna. Luke lives in the guest house so he’ll be in and out for meals and other stuff and I think Finn just broke up with Erin so I think he’s back in the house too.” Samantha stared at him dumbly for a second. “What?”
“When you said you had a big family I didn’t realize it was that big. I’ll never remember all that. How many brothers and sisters do you have total and are you the only one that left the nest?”
“There are seven of us total. Katherine, that’s Kate, is the oldest. She has her own place with her husband, Ant, and they are expecting their fourth kid soon. Colin’s been away for years. He’s the oldest brother. He left for college right after he graduated.
“Finn works with my Uncle Paulie and my dad as a logger, but Luke, his twin, went away to Notre Dame for four years on a football scholarship. He never planned on returning home, but after he hurt his knee he kind of just showed up. I think eventually, once he gets over his hurt pride and bruised ego, he’ll take off again.
“Kelly, I guess, is our black sheep. He never showed any interest in leaving, but I wouldn’t be surprised if one day he suddenly declared he was going to drift across country for the pure novelty of it. And Sheilagh, well, hopefully she’s mellowed out, but from what my mom tells me I don’t think that’s the case. She’s graduating this year.”
“What do you mean mellowed out?”
He laughed.
“Ever hear the saying ‘if you want trouble find yourself a redhead’? That’s Sheilagh. It’s her life’s ambition to prove that redheads truly have more fun. Don’t let her intimidate you though. She acts hard, but she’s really a marshmallow on the inside.”
“Oh. Is she planning on going to college in the fall?”
“Who knows? Do yourself a favor and don’t bring it up in front of my dad. Sheilagh’s crazy smart. She was accepted at Princeton, Catholic U., and Penn State Main. She won a grant for the school of her choosing that’ll cover a huge part of her tuition, which in a family of seven kids is nothing to sneeze at.”
“So which one do you think she’ll choose?”
“That’s the thing. I don’t think she’ll choose any of them. She’s still figuring out what she wants to do and she doesn’t want to leave home until she’s sure. See, at home, Sheilagh’s a force to be reckoned with, but take her out of her fish bowl and she’s just a scared little girl from a redneck town.”
“So you think she’s nervous?”
Braydon twisted his lips and tilted his head in consideration. “Yes, but she’ll never admit it. Girl’s got more guts than brains and for a girl who’s IQ’s been off the charts since elementary school that’s saying a lot.”
“And what about Kelly? Does she work?”
“First of all, Kelly’s a guy and he makes sure anything with female parts is completely aware of it. He may be lacking in ambition, but he has an overabundance of confidence.”
“You say that as if you don’t get along with him.”
“Kelly’s fine, but sometimes it gets old, you know? Like, grow up already. He’s twenty-two, works at my aunt and uncle's bar, sleeps in a different bed almost every night, and never takes anything seriously.”
Sam was cataloging everything Braydon said in her mind. If she was going to be spending three weeks with the McCulloughs she wanted to be prepared. There was nothing worse than living with people whose names she constantly confused.
“And who are the twins?”
“Luke and Finn. They’re identical, but Luke’s a little more built from playing sports all his life. He’s your typical athlete, star quarterback in high school, and in a small community that equates to being the town hero. He was homecoming king, dated the prom queen until he left for college, plays hard and takes losing harder. He used to be the go to guy when you needed to laugh, but since he hurt his knee he’s been in kind of a mood. He would’ve been recruited to the pros. You'll see. When he plays sports from time to time, there’s this fire in his eyes, like a passion. That’s still there, but he’ll never go big now. His field injury can’t take the relentless pressure. He went from being predicted as the upcoming draft sensation to a risk factor no one would gamble on.”
“That’s a shame. Does he have any other skills?”
“Not really. Football was his life. Once that got taken away from him he kind of pulled into himself. When he graduated and came home he moved right into the barn and began fixing it up as an apartment. He never went back to his old room. I think all the trophies and newspaper clippings were an ugly reminder for him. Once my mom realized he wouldn’t be living there anymore she boxed up all his awards and turned his room into a nursery for my nieces and nephew.”
“Kate’s kids?”
“Yup. Frankie, Skylar, and Hannah. You’ll meet them tomorrow. Katherine probably is spending the night because she knows I’m coming home.”
“So you’re close to your older sister.”
“Yeah. Kate’s almost ten years older than me so she’s always favored me. Where Colin and the twins were close enough to her age to fight with her like true siblings, I fell into that perfect era of her life where she wanted a real baby to nurture. My sister was born to be a mother. She’ll probably have a baseball team of children someday.”
Braydon wore an affectionate smile as he spoke of his older sister. He obviously loved her very much. As if he could read her thoughts he admitted, “She spoils me rotten.”
“And what about the other twin?”
“Finn? Finn’s quiet. He likes to read and mostly keeps to himself. He was sort of in the transition of moving in with Erin, but I guess that didn’t work out. I don’t think anyone’s really disappointed. She didn’t really mesh with the family. We’re pretty close, so things like that matter.”
Sam was almost starting to relax until she considered about what would happen if the McCulloughs didn’t mesh with her. Sensing her tension Braydon squeezed her leg and reassured, “Don’t worry. They’ll love you.”
He adjusted the volume of the radio and Sam assumed he was done with her inquisition for now. She settled back into her seat and stared out the windshield as they drove into the black night. Worried what his family would think of her, she replayed each of his siblings’ characteristics in her head, committing them to memory, and hoped she’d make a good impression.
Her ears popped and although she couldn’t see past her reflection and the glow of interior lights in the car window, her equilibrium told her they were deep in the mountains. She covertly watched Braydon as he navigated off the highway and onto a dark patch of road.
His wavy blond hair fell onto his forehead in unruly curls Sam imagined most women would find it tempting to run their fingers through. His pale blue eyes traveled over the road, and in the dimness of the car his five o’clock shadow showed darkest at the thin cleft of his chin. He was one of those peculiarly handsome metropolitan men that could model department store sweaters and get away with wearing pink. He was masculine enough that one could actually call him pretty. It was frustrating kissing someone you knew was prettier than yourself.
Sam was never referred to as anything beyond cute. She supposed she had that American girl-next-door thing going for her. Plain, straight brown hair, boring brown eyes, skin that only burned and freckled in the sun, and dusty colored eyelashes. By the time she was sixteen, she already accepted that no amount of makeup would hide the freckles that covered the crests of her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. She was plain, pure and simple. She wondered if Braydon’s family would question what he was doing with such a girl.
She didn’t even own makeup. She wore Chap Stick, but she didn’t think that counted. Going to school in the more metro section of Philadelphia brought out a lot of impulses to appear more sophisticated, but it was too much, on top of school and worrying about her parents, to keep up with the Joneses as well.
She’d resigned herself to being a cotton-blend kind of girl. While the rest of the world fought to squeeze their hips into skinny jeans, Sam decided her worn in boot cut ones were just fine. They were only clothes. What mattered was what was on the inside.
But if that was true, why was she suddenly wishing she brought a more impressive wardrobe with her to meet the McCulloughs? She was being ridiculous. Having never suffered from superficial insecurities before, it didn’t make sense, at age twenty-four to give such silly doubts space in her mind. She supposed it was hearing Braydon refer to her earlier as his girlfriend that triggered this unusual train of thought.
Was she his girlfriend? He hadn’t asked her out. They hadn’t slept together. When she met him four months ago he asked her if she was going to an event being sponsored by Villanova at the student union building. She was and of course told him so.
It was through the interference of mutual friend that she found herself sitting next to Braydon for the day of the event. A week later they were having lunch together at a local brewery, but, again, friends had orchestrated their meeting. It wasn’t until they’d been set up several times that Braydon finally asked for her number. And once he had her number it took a week for him to use it.
At that point there was no lengthy phone call that left her exhausted the next morning or with butterflies in the pit of her stomach. No. When he’d used her phone number it was simply to text her and ask what time she was heading to the cafeteria for dinner on a random night. Their lackluster acquaintance progressed as such over the following weeks.
She wasn’t dense and she wasn’t sending mixed signals, so of course she was surprised that Braydon wanted her to come home with him. Apparently he felt a stronger connection, or at least was assuming one, more than anything she felt between the two of them so far. Not to say the possibility of a strong connection didn’t exist Sam just hadn’t sensed it yet. Perhaps these upcoming weeks would deepen their connection. She should probably be nervous at the possibility of becoming more with Braydon, but all she could muster was a curious sense of indifference. She liked him, but their chemistry was...manageable. She wasn’t concerned with losing herself in the moment or having a sudden attack of butterflies in her stomach. Maybe there was something wrong with her.
She enjoyed Braydon’s company, but the bottom line was that she was a realist. They simply hadn’t spent enough time together to truly know one and other and, as far as casual sex, well, Samantha had never been that type of girl.
She’d be willing to see how things progressed, but she wasn’t some hard-up romantic prepared to settle for the shell of a relationship lacking any depth. If Braydon expected her to actually be his girlfriend then he’d have to open up a bit more, let her see what exactly was ticking in that head of his. Because, to be perfectly honest, half the time Sam had no idea what he was thinking. It wasn’t until he walked her back to her apartment late one night at school and kissed her that she realized they were courting more than a friendship.
After that night Braydon frequently slipped in a kiss here and an affectionate pat there, but it was all very meaningless in the grand scheme of things. It was nothing she thought to worry about. Until now.
She was graduating at the end of summer and Braydon still had a year to go. Whatever they were entertaining for the time being, Sam didn’t see it lasting. She was surprised he even made the offer for her to come with him for their break.
She felt mildly like a snob for being so taken off guard by the invitation. Braydon seemed to genuinely care that she’d be going home to an empty house if she went to her own home. She hadn’t given much thought as to how he would spend the three weeks. She supposed coming from a large family like he did, the idea of being alone was intolerable to him. She was used to the solitude.
Since she was fourteen, it had been just her and her parents. They were close, but never overbearing. After her father suffered a massive heart attack two years ago, he gave up his job at the mill and her mother turned in her resignation at the local elementary school and the two of them finally followed their lifelong dream of opening a bed and breakfast.
The change of pace suited them. It kept them occupied with frequent bouts of business yet also allowed them to schedule time for themselves. This was the first time Sam could ever recall seeing her parents take time for an extended vacation together. It was good for them and Sam was glad for it. If she would've gone home her mother would have fretted over not being there with her daughter and her worrying would’ve spoiled their trip. It was better for everyone that she was spending this time in the mountains with Braydon. Her mother was pleased to hear Sam would use this time with friends. Sam didn’t see the necessity in telling her mother Braydon was little more than a stranger.
She must have dozed off because the next thing she knew the lulling, paved back roads and undulating hills gave way to a gravelly drive worn by time and weathered with deep ruts.
“We’re here.” Sam heard the exhaustion in Braydon’s voice.
“What time is it?”
“Eleven-thirty. My mom will be waiting for us, but everyone else is probably asleep by now.”
Sam reached into her jeans pocket and pulled out her Chap Stick. After rubbing some on her lips she ran her fingers through her hair. Her belly flip-flopped with anxiety and she laced her fingers together over her lap so not to give away her nervousness.
Everything was black. If she squinted she could vaguely make out a canopy of evergreens trimming the drive. Stars winked in and out of the dark feathery green covering. She looked ahead, but there was only blackness. They followed a bend in the path and she gasped. They were at a higher altitude, but good grief she never saw so many stars before in her life. It was as though she could catch one if she only stood on her tiptoes. And there were so many, surely the gods wouldn’t mind if she slipped one into her pocket.
Her fanciful thoughts were distracted when a large house came into view. The structure was impressive even when its size was partially cloaked by shadows. Only a few windows glowed here and there and there was a porch light burning, illuminating a wide set of wooden steps.
Evenly spaced pillars portioned out a long wraparound porch encased in a spindled railing. She suddenly remembered a dollhouse she and her sister used to play with as children, but quickly pushed the thought away. This was not a time to think about her childhood. She needed to stay focused and in charge of her emotions.
Braydon parked behind a Jeep Cherokee that appeared to be in surprisingly good shape considering the model was over twenty years old. He plucked the keys from the ignition and let out a groaning stretch. “Why don’t we head in and say hi then I’ll come back and grab our bags?”
Sam nodded and unbuckled her seatbelt. They’d been in the car for hours and her legs were screaming for her to stand up and stretch. Braydon opened his door and Sam followed suit. She climbed out and extended her arms far over her head and followed Braydon toward the house.
There was almost a deafening hum of wildlife filling the air. The combination of crickets chirping and locusts trilling in such a symphony-like roar told her how expansive the dark woods behind them were.
She wished it were daylight so she could see more of her surroundings. Subconsciously, her mind had already decided the McCullough home was beautiful. The moment she realized it was a traditional log cabin she admitted it was love at first sight. When had she become such a slut for architecture? She supposed it was the novelty of a real life log cabin that tapped into some nostalgic memory of Lincoln Logs and Little House on the Prairie and in turn released a secreted, unrequited longing for country living. Suddenly excited to be there, she wanted to thank Braydon for bringing her.
The heavy wood door at the top of the steps opened and a woman with fiery copper hair stood smiling with her hands clasped tightly at her heart. “You’re here!”
Braydon smiled.
“Hi, Mum. Sorry we’re so late. We couldn’t leave until almost eight o’clock.”
She waved away his excuses and pulled him into an affectionate embrace. She was no small woman, yet the sigh she emitted when hugging her son told Sam she was soft and loving despite her aggressive handling of others. When she had her fill she stepped back and held Braydon at arm’s length, her wide fingers holding him in place.
“You’re in need of a haircut, you are,” she rebuked, her sternness bellied by her cheery expression and the glassy sheen of merriment dancing in her eyes.
“Do you not like my hair, Mum?”
The sudden change in Braydon’s speech caused Sam to do a double take. The cadence of his words picked up a clipped lilt and sounded almost Gaelic. Mrs. McCullough laughed and smacked an affectionate kiss on her son’s cheek.
“Don’t you go getting too cheeky now. Kelly will get jealous. You know how he likes to pretend he’s the rogue of the clan.”
“How is Kelly?”
Mrs. McCullough smirked and rolled her eyes as if she were laughing over a well-known secret. “There’s enough time to talk about your brother and his reprobate ways later. For now why don’t you introduce me to this lovely lassie?”
They turned and faced Sam as Braydon said, “Mum, this is Samantha Dougherty.”
“Dougherty.” Mrs. McCullough pronounced her name the proper Irish way sounding like Doe-hearty, lacking the hard G most American’s used when speaking the name. “Well, that’s a good strong Irish name. I believe you’ll fit in nicely around here.”
Before Sam had a chance to answer, she was smothered in the woman’s arms and being hugged near the point of suffocation. When Sam was released she quickly grasped the railing behind her to prevent her body from stumbling down the steps.
“Thank you so much for having me, Mrs. McCullough.”
“Oh pish, you call me Maureen, love. Let’s head on inside; it’s hot out tonight.”
“Why’s it so warm here? I was expecting it to be at least twenty degrees cooler than the city.” Braydon commented as they followed Mrs. McCullough, no, Maureen, into the house.
“We haven’t had a bit of rain in over two weeks. The woods are growing dryer than a nun’s tits. We won’t be having any bonfires this side of the forest any time soon, that’s for sure.”
Braydon’s mother’s language jerked Sam’s attention away from her inspection of the house. She couldn’t remember ever hearing her own mother say tits. Her mother could barely say breasts and that included discussing a cut of chicken for dinner.
Sam kept up with the two, keeping an ear open for comments pertaining to her, as she eyed her surroundings with covert curiosity. A grin flourished across her face when she realized the log home was authentic inside and out. The perfectly stacked logs matched the wooden tongue and groove planks covering the floor and ceiling.
Following the others into a kitchen, she was impressed by the wooden cabinetry. Sam could tell immediately, even with no architectural background, that the woodwork was all custom made. The designer, whoever he was, clearly took a lot of care in carving out every detail down to the mortise and tenon joints that interlocked the sturdy framework.
She took a seat next to Braydon at the large farm table filling the enormous kitchen while Maureen informed her son of the family’s current events, speaking with agreeable frankness.
“Kate’s here, but she couldn’t wait up. Her sciatica’s been bothering her something fierce this time around. Not that I minded her making her excuses early. I’ll warn you now, Bray. Your sister’s been leaving air biscuits in every room. You know, with Frankie it was her ankles, with Skylar it was the heartburn, with Hannah it was her sciatica, with this one it seems it’s her arse. She’s all those ails and now farts too! She’s makin’ my house smell like a pile of cabbage shite, that’s what she’s doing.”
“Mum!”
“Well, she is. But don’t tell her I told you so. She’s weepier than a willow tree this pregnancy. There’s no wonder why Anthony decided to wait until tomorrow to get here.”
Sam had no idea what to make of Braydon’s mother. Maureen continued to speak with hybrid comments filled with loving and crass observations about the McCulloughs while she bustled about the kitchen heating leftovers.
Sam noticed a microwave tucked between two raised cabinets, but Maureen continued to pull out pots and pans as she heated up food. Sam was willing to make the assumption that a women like Maureen never used a microwave. In just the brief few minutes she’d been in her presence, she could already tell Maureen McCullough was a woman who took great pride in working hard for her family and would scoff at shortcuts.
When the food was heated she placed a hefty bowl of stew in front of Braydon and Sam. There was also a bowl of roasted potatoes seasoned in rosemary and a basket of homemade biscuits wrapped in a dishcloth with red ticking that looked hand sewn.
The food was different than anything she ever tried in the city or anything she ever saw her own mother make, but it was still quite good. As Maureen prattled on about Frank, Braydon’s father, Sam watched Braydon shut his eyes in pleasure as his mother’s cooking settled into his belly.
Sam smiled. Most comfort food was embellished because it came from a mother’s love. Braydon obviously tasted more than just stew with each bite. He tasted recipes shaped by traditions and was likely remembering memories of being in this familiar place. She was happy to witness this settling side of him. She liked watching Braydon at home.
Once she finished her supper, Sam pushed her bowl away. Without pausing for even a syllable, Maureen chattered on as she stood and carried the dishes to the sink and began washing them. The kitchen was clearly her domain. She navigated through the motions of tidying up without ever taking her eyes off Sam or her son.
It occurred to Sam that her anxiety about being here had disappeared the moment she met Maureen McCullough. She analyzed the women and wondered what magical gift she held that made her able to put guests at such ease. Maurine was a natural when it came to hospitable courtesy, even if she didn’t necessarily follow propriety.
As they all laughed at an anecdote Maureen shared about a woman at the butcher, Sam decided that for as much as she loved the McCulloughs' log cabin, she loved their mother more.
Contrary to her first impression, Samantha saw the beautiful woman that was Maureen McCullough. She imagined her hair was once a fiery red to match her spicy personality although now it was more fawn colored with natural highlights in the deepest shade of orange. Laugh lines softened her dark green eyes. Her clipped un-manicured fingernails spoke volumes about how no nonsense she was when it came to taking on the labors of mothering seven children.
At first her brisk mannerisms made Maureen come off as abrasive, Sam would now describe her as soft. Not due to her round bosom or generous curves, but because of the way Maureen would titter and giggle in between stories with absolute femininity, her eyes twinkling like a little girl's. It didn’t matter how many times she said bollocks or cock in a sentence. It was all just noise coming from a sweet, loving woman with a dirty mouth.
They talked until well after one in the morning. After such a heavy meal and four hours of travel, Sam was ready to call it a night. They still had to carry in their bags from the car. The idea of carrying anything at this hour made sleeping in her travel clothes tempting.
Maureen said, “Well, I’m off to bed. I’ll see you two in the morning for breakfast.” And with that she was gone.
Braydon’s mother bustled out of the kitchen and climbed the steps. When Sam turned back to Braydon, he was smiling.
“What?” she asked.
“What do you think?”
Seeing no need to lie, Sam smiled and admitted, “I love her.”
He beamed and Sam was certain he was about to kiss her, but the front door opened and someone yelled, “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph has the prodigal son returned?”
Braydon pulled back and groaned as he stood from his seat when a young man with rakishly spiked hair and sharp crystal blue eyes came into the kitchen.
“Kelly,” he greeted as he embraced his younger brother in a backslapping hug.
Ah, so this is the loner.
“It’s good to have you home, my brother.”
“Good to be home.”
They broke apart and Kelly turned to Sam. He leered at her with faintly sinister amusement while she tried not to bristle under his scrutiny.
Whoa. That expression should be photographed and put in the dictionary under the word smolder.
“Well, hello, pretty lady. I see you’ve come with the wrong brother, but I’d be glad to remedy that for ya and make sure you come again.”
Braydon shoved his brother out of the way. “Kelly, this is my girlfriend, Samantha.”
“Braydon, don’t interrupt me when I’m speaking with the lassies. How long are you here for, beautiful?”
Sam wasn’t sure if Kelly realized he was pissing his brother off, but she didn’t really want to get in the middle.
“Three weeks.”
He made an expression that Sam could only describe as disappointment.
“That, love, is a shame. Three weeks with this lot and you’ll be crazy as a loon by the time you head home. I can’t be exposing myself to anymore crazies.” He leaned in a theatrically whispered, “You see, they all know I’m the McCullough with the biggest cock and, the crazies, well, they don’t like to share.”
This time when Braydon shoved his brother Kelly actually stumbled and landed in a kitchen chair. “Shut up, moron. She’s not one of your trollops.”
Kelly laughed. “Oh, now Bray, it isn’t kind to call your friends’ mothers trollops.”
“I don’t even want to know what friends you’re referring to, but I hope they kick your ass when they find out you're diddling their mums. You’re disgusting. Samantha, I’m going to get our bags. Kelly, try not to repulse or corrupt her within the next three minutes.”
“Oh, come on now, Bray. I’m not you. Give me a little credit. I cannot corrupt a beautiful woman in three minutes. With stamina like mine I’ll ask for at least an hour.”
Braydon rolled his eyes heavenward in clear frustration. Truthfully though, Sam was having a hard time not laughing. As Braydon walked toward the door he turned and said, “You know what, Kelly?”
“What, big brother?”
“Take that big cock you’re so proud of and go fuck yourself.”
With that he stomped out of the house.
Kelly turned back toward Sam and was smiling at her as if they shared a secret. She finally gave into her smile and said, “You’re mean.”
He laughed. “Not mean, smart. You’ll see. Everyone around here kisses Bray’s arse. I make sure he doesn’t get ahead of himself and grow too cocky.”
“Ha! And you’re not cocky?”
He gave her a wicked half smile and said, “Samantha, love, I thought I already made it clear, out of all the McCullough men, I’m the cockiest.”
Braydon walked in and dropped the bags onto the wood floor. “You ready to head up to bed, Samantha?”
“Where am I sleeping?”
“In my room with me.”
It took her a minute to find her words. Kelly was distracted with making some kind of sandwich, but Sam was certain he wasn’t missing a single word. “Braydon, I cannot share your room. This is your parents’ house.”
“So?”
“So it’s rude and not proper.”
“They won’t care.”
“Well, I’m sorry, but I care. I’ll sleep on the couch, but I can’t sleep in your bed with you.”
“Samantha, that’s ridiculous. I’m twenty-three. They know I’m not a virgin. They probably assume we spend the night together all the time at school.”
She gasped. “Well, we don’t!” Realizing she wasn’t telling Braydon anything he didn’t already know she turned to Kelly and affirmed, “We don’t.”
He smiled as he prepared to take a bite of his sandwich. “Don’t get your knickers in a bunch over what I think. I don’t judge. I am a gentleman though, so I will say, if you don’t want to share Bray’s bed you can use mine.”
She pursed her lips and rolled her eyes. “Let me guess, you’d be willing to keep me warm too.”
“Samantha—”
“Ah, love, my bed's never cold.”
Before things got heated Sam held up her hands and interrupted them both. “Look, I’m not sharing anyone’s bed. Kelly, since you have room in yours I’m sure your brother would appreciate half of it. I was up late writing papers all week, I’ve just traveled all night, and it’s well past two in the morning. I’m going to bed. Braydon, we can work out better arrangements in the morning, but for now I’d appreciate it if you showed me to your room.”
Kelly must have found her speech very amusing. He smiled grandly and said, “Dear God, Braydon, if you don’t marry her, I will. You must be amazing in bed, aren’t you, love?”
She groaned. “Braydon, show me where your room is.”
She scooped up her larger suitcase as she left the kitchen and followed Braydon up the stairs. The wood creaked as they climbed the steps. The second floor was as dark and silent as a tomb.
“I can’t believe you're sticking me with Kelly,” Braydon whispered.
“Well believe it. I can’t believe you expected me to share your bed under your parents’ roof.”
He let the comment go, but Sam could tell he was irritated.
She didn’t think she was being irrational. His family didn’t know her. She was here for the duration of the next month. How difficult would it be to sit across from them at the breakfast table if they were all thinking about what a whore she was? No, she could not share his bed. Tomorrow she’d see if there were better arrangements for him, but for her first night this would have to do.
Braydon opened a door and flipped on a light. The room was painted slate gray with matching bedding. The furniture was modern with sharp geometric angles. The only thing inside the room that remotely complimented the style of the house was the gray and white fur blanket at the foot of the bed and a skull with six points of antlers hanging from the wall. There was a large gray metal cabinet with a lock taking up a good portion of the room.
“What’s that?”
“Gun safe.” Braydon was obviously being short with her.
“You hunt?”
“Everyone hunts around here.”
“Did you kill that?” she asked pointing to the antlers hanging on the wall.
“That was my first big kill. Got it with an arrow when I was thirteen.”
Samantha had a hard time assimilating the Braydon she knew from Villanova with the Braydon who cursed in an Irish tongue and shot animals with a bow and arrow. She suddenly longed for the comfort she experienced earlier in Maureen’s presence, because up here in Braydon’s bedroom she felt very alone and confused.
Braydon placed her bags at the foot of the bed and opened a drawer to pull out some clothing Sam assumed he’d sleep in. Without looking at her he briefly opened up a door on the right side of the bed.
“Here’s your bathroom. It has a shower and everything you need. The closet’s over there if you want to hang anything up. Kelly’s room’s two doors down the hall if you need anything. I guess I’ll see you at breakfast.”
He began to walk out into the hall and Sam felt the weight of guilt.
“Braydon, wait.”
He paused and looked at her.
This was his room. She was being selfish. He invited her here so she wouldn’t spend her break alone and now she was forcing him out of his room and into a room with a brother who clearly irritated him. But his presumption that they’d go from a few shared kisses and dates to sharing a bed took her off guard and she didn’t want him to assume too much.
“I...” Yet she still didn’t want to give his family the wrong impression. Maybe Maureen would understand, but she had yet to meet the other nine hundred McCulloughs. Who knew what they’d think of their brother shacking up with her? She’d have to wait and see. “Maybe tomorrow you could sleep here and I’ll see about sharing one of your sister’s rooms.”
“Don’t sweat it. I’m just tired. It’s fine. Really.”
He appeared fine, but Sam suspected he was trying to keep the peace.
She walked over to him and gently kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”
He ran his hand over her ponytail and playfully tugged the end.
“You’re welcome, Samantha. Goodnight. I’ll see you in the morning.”
––––––––
Don’t stop here! Keep going! Almost Priest is FREE at all major retailers. Grab your copy now by clicking here!