Page 7 of Goode Tidings

"Look, Justin." I've had enough of my man-child ex, but for Oliver's sake, I grit my teeth and keep my voice even. "Like I already said, your former stepbrother Callum appears to be living at your cabin."

Silence. In my peripheral vision, Oliver kicks a rock with the toe of his shoe. The quiet stretches on, and then Justin says, "You did not already say that."

"I did. Maybe you didn't hear me. You said I was breaking up."

Justin might be a fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants kind of guy, but he doesn't like being on the receiving end of surprises. He prefers to be the surpris-er, not the surpris-ee. "Eden, this isn't funny. And it's not possible. I haven't talked to that guy since our parents divorced when we were fourteen."

Callum clears his throat. His hands slip into his pockets. "Hey, Justin."

A few beats of silence pass, and then Justin screeches, "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Language," I say automatically, and I don't need to look to know I've earned an eye roll from Oliver.

"Why are you at my cabin?" Justin's voice is hard. He spends so much time playing the role of happy-go-lucky, nothing-bothers-me guy, sometimes I forget how quickly he can switch into outrage. Although he might be justified this time. My eyebrows lift as I wait for Callum to explain his presence.

"Well—"

Justin cuts off Callum with his next outraged question. "How did you get in?"

"The key was in the fake rock beside the driveway, just like it always was." Callum's voice is tight as he pitches up onto the balls of his feet, making him taller than he already is. "But anybody could've gotten in without a key. Two of the windows were broken. The place was in shambles." His tone is harsh, burning with accusation. "The electricity wasn't even turned on."

I frown. If Callum wasn't here, does that mean we would've come to a place that didn't have electricity? Honestly, I'll take Hot Naked Guy and whatever this is over showing up to a dilapidated cabin with broken windows and no utilities.

"That cabin isn't yours to care about," Justin says in a cold voice.

Callum's hands form fists. The motion makes his biceps press against the soft-looking fabric of his shirt. Not that I'm noticing. Because I'm not.

He takes a deep breath. "You should see what I've done with the place," he says, his voice warm and proud. "She is looking mighty fine."

I don't know Callum well, despite the fact that I have seen him naked, but somehow I know he's trying to get a rise out of Justin. It's working, based on the string of expletives flying from Justin's mouth. Callum remembers exactly how to make Justin's head explode.

Oliver steps closer to me, loudly whispering, "Bro, he's trolling Dad so hard."

I give Oliver a warning look. He's not allowed to refer to me as bro, but is that really what I'm going to focus on in this moment? Much like the headphones in the car, I'll be letting it go.

I feel the invisible tug of being stared at, and look up. Callum's gaze is locked on me, his eyes pinching at the outside corner. They are dark like mine, his brown deeper than my own, not a single fleck of caramel like I have. Something odd flickers across his features. I can't describe it, but it's definitely not a positive emotion.

"Justin is your husband?" He serves the question with a side of disbelief, and a hefty dose of I thought better of you.

Not that he knows me well enough to think better of me about anything, but the look on his face is giving me that impression.

My lip curls at Callum's question, but I rein it in, as I always do when Justin is the topic and Oliver is present. "Where did you get that idea?"

Callum glances at Oliver, who now stands in such a way that it has taken our dyad and turned it into a triad. "Your son referred to Justin as Dad."

"That's because Oliver is my son," Justin bleats, and I blink hard at the phone. I keep forgetting he's a long-distance joiner of this conversation. "Eden and I are divorced."

Using my free hand, I motion as if to say can we get back to the problem at hand?

Callum eyes me warily. His hands find his pockets, where they slide inside. "Full truth." He's looking at me, but I know he's addressing Justin. "I've been staying at your cabin without your permission for two years." Justin sputters, reacting as anyone who learns such a thing would, but Callum bulldozes through him. "I'm not sorry. You neglected this place."

"His neglect doesn't give you the right to squat," I point out.

Callum's pocketed right hand appears, rubbing at his jaw with curled knuckles. "I'm aware."

"It also presents us"—I nod between our bodies—"with an issue."

"I'm aware of that, too." He glances back over his shoulder, presumably at the cabin. "I'll pack a bag and go...somewhere. You'll be here for how long? A few days?"