Chapter 2

Callum

“If inventory isn’t done by this afternoon I’m going to literally kill people,” I say to Shepherd as he smirks at me. “I’m serious,” I tell him, my voice rising a bit. “We’ve got a ton of shit to do, and taking off the week for Paxton’s wedding seriously put us behind.”

Shepherd gives me one of his lazy smiles. “We’ll be fine.”

I hate that my younger brother doesn’t understand the urgency in getting inventory done for the brewery like I do. None of my younger siblings do. And I’ve got a lot of siblings. Most days it’s like herding cattle.

Shepherd’s only fourteen months younger than me. They used to call us the Irish twins when we were younger, until my mother had another son fourteen months younger than Shepherd. What can I say? I guess my parents like to fuck, a lot.

Okay. Gross.

Anyway, once Paxton came along they called us the Atwood hellions because we got into everything. My poor mother.

That didn’t stop her because a year or so later, she had her first, and only , baby girl—Anya. And let me tell you, that girl got away with everything. So, as her older brothers, Shep, Pax, and I had to raise even more hell.

A few years after that my mother popped out my younger brother, Brock, and fourteen months later she had her last son, Tripp.

She closed up shop after he was born and finally got her tubes tied. Or maybe they just stopped having sex as much. Who knows, all I know is I’m the eldest, and honestly, trying to keep my brothers, and sister in check is one of the hardest jobs I’ve ever had.

A few years back the Atwood hellions, Shep, Pax, and me, got together and opened up a brewery with my best friend, Griffin. The four of us slaved away every day to make this place what it is today.

It’s a well-oiled machine, and only because I make sure it runs smoothly.

I toss the iPad at Shep. “Just get it done.” I walk out of the dry storage area of Atta Boy Brewery and head downstairs to my office.

Once inside I shut the door and notice all the work I’ve still got to handle today. I swear there’s never a down moment here. I feel like a fireman, constantly putting out metaphorical fires every hour.

My cell pings in my pocket and I glance down at the chat I have with all my family members.

Brock: Cal, if you’re here…who am I kidding? Of course you are. Can you come to the brew floor? I’ve got a question.

Be right there.

Like I said, never ending. I leave my office, and as I walk the thirty feet to meet my brother, Brock, my phone pings with many more messages. One from my sister asking where the tablecloths are because our vendor hasn’t dropped them off yet. Great. See, another fire.

Anya walks up to me with her hands on her hips. “I can’t get ahold of Kyle. He’s the distributor for the tablecloths. I have a party in five hours and no tablecloths.”

I can see the panic in Anya’s eyes, and I place both hands atop her shoulders. “It’ll be okay. I think I saw a pack of tablecloths in the back of Narnia.”

She breathes a sigh of relief. “I hope you’re right.” She rushes off in the direction of the dry storage area.

We’ve called it Narnia for as long as I can remember, because there’s a back area where things just get lost. Or sometimes, like today, reappear.

“Hey,” Brock says. “I’ve got this spent grain for the Daniels’ ranch. Normally Joey picks it up but his truck broke down and was wondering if one of us could drop it at the ranch.”

I stare at the bags of spent grain, wondering who can run down to the Daniels’ ranch and drop it off. Mr. Daniels used to always pick up the grain himself, but after he passed a few months back, his daughter has been in charge running his place. I’ve only met her a few times in passing, and I nod at Brock.

“I guess I can run it over there,” I say, knowing that nobody else can leave this place right now.

Shep’s doing inventory. Griffin’s preparing for the party with Anya. Did I mention they’re dating? Yes, my best friend and my little sister. That was a hard pill to swallow when it happened. They kept it from me for a while too.

Honestly, all of my younger siblings have found somebody to share their life with. I’m the odd man out, but I don’t mind.

I’m not looking for love.

Although my mother wishes I would find someone. I don’t want to. I’m too focused on the brewery.

“Yeah, I’ll run the grain over.”

“I’ll help you load it into your truck,” he says, picking up a bag and hauling it over his shoulder. “Also, Willow thought it would be a great idea for us all to take a weekend off and go camping.”

I raise a brow before picking up a large bag of grain and propping it over my shoulder. “She does, huh?”

Brock smiles as we walk toward the bay doors. “Yep, she says if we can get everyone up in the mountains for a weekend it would be a lot of fun.”

I shake my head as I follow Brock into the back parking area where my truck is parked not too far away. “Willow doesn’t have a restaurant and brewery to run.”

Brock drops the bag of grain into the back of my truck’s bed. “She’s just trying to help.”

I deposit my bag and stare at my brother. “Help what?” I cross my arms over my chest.

“Everyone’s worried about you.”

I laugh, a quick short burst of laughter with no humor behind it. “Who’s worried? Mom? Shep? Just because I don’t have a girlfriend doesn’t mean something is wrong with me.”

Brock’s eyes knit in confusion. “Nobody’s saying that, Cal. We just know how hard you work. We want you to find somebody. We want you to be happy.”

“I am happy. And no woman is going to make me happier.”

Brock holds his hands up in a placating manner. “Okay. Okay. No need to get all grumpy.”

“I’m not grumpy.”

Maybe I am grumpy, but I know it’s not because I don’t have a woman. That’s the last thing I need. I wish I could just find somebody and get my family off my back. Since they’ve all found, who they claim to be ‘the one’, they’ve all been insufferable to be around.

It’s like they’ve all made it their mission to hook me up with somebody. Anybody.

I’m fine just the way I am.

Grumpy and all.