Charlie is picking me up since Georgie is already there with Betha, helping get things ready. As I glance at the clock, I realize he's probably downstairs waiting. I give myself a final mental pep talk about how I should just be myself and enjoy the evening. Then, I take a deep breath and head out the door.

  The moment I step onto the front porch of my building, I see Charlie leaning against his car where it's parked at the curb, looking so damn handsome it should be illegal. His eyes light up when he sees me, and he pushes himself off the wall to greet me with a kiss.

  “Hey you,” he grins, and I can’t help but return the smile.

  “Hey yourself,” I say, trying not to show my nerves.

  “Ready for tonight?” he asks, pulling open the car door for me, a move that sends my heart pitter-pattering right out of my chest.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be,” I reply, offering him a brave smile as I slide into the car.

  He closes the door behind me, and I can’t shake the butterflies in my stomach. It’s just dinner, I tell myself, but it feels like so much more.

  Charlie keeps the conversation light as we drive, probably sensing my nervous energy. He talks about work, some crazy regulars he had a run-in with the other day, and a few of the ideas he wants to bounce off of Mac and myself next time he has a chance for new offerings. I nod and laugh in all the right places, grateful for his ability to make me feel at ease.

  When we arrive at his parents' place, it’s not exactly what I expected. There’s a lot of hustle and bustle in the kitchen, and the smell of something delicious wafts through the air.

  “Hey, we’re here!” Charlie calls out as we step inside.

  Betha appears, apron-clad and armed with a spatula. “Callum! So good to see you,” she exclaims, giving me a quick hug. “Come, help me with the salad. Georgie’s already there, probably sneaking spoonfuls of frosting.”

  “Sure thing,” I say, happy to have a distraction.

  We enter the kitchen, and my eyes widen at seeing so many viking-sized men squeezed into a little space. Alfie, Donnie, and Ollie are all at the stove, busy elbowing one another out of the way as they argue over something bubbling in a giant pot that looks highly suspicious but smells delicious. Georgie stands on a stool beside them, licking a beater covered in chocolate frosting between shouting and egging them on.

  “Hey, kiddo,” I greet her, ruffling her hair with a chuckle at her antics. She grins, her face smeared with chocolate. I kiss her forehead quickly and let the chocolate and eventual crash I know is coming slide. It’s a special day, and she deserves to have some fun.

  Betha and I work side by side, and it doesn’t take long for my nerves to settle. Betha is easy to talk to and shares a few good stories about Charlie and his brothers as kids.

  A little while later, a woman who can only be Charlie’s mom walks in. She’s the spitting image of Charlie and Ollie, minus the beard in Charlie’s case and the piercings in Ollie’s, and there is an undeniable charm to her.

  “Mom, this is Callum, the new brewer,” Charlie introduces. “And Callum, this is my mom, Barbie.”

  “Callum! It’s so lovely to finally meet you properly! Charlie has been talking about you nonstop for weeks now,” she says with a familiar teasing light in her blue eyes.

  I manage a smile, feeling a bit like a fish out of water. “Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Larson, and happy birthday.”

  “Thank you, dear. And please, call me Barbie,” she insists, pulling me into a hug. I can’t help but feel a surge of affection for her; the warmth of a mother's hug is undeniable and sorely missed. Charlie shoots me a smirk, and I roll my eyes at him.

  “Mom, you’re embarrassing him,” Charlie laughs.

  We settle into dinner a few minutes later, and I’m relieved to find all the midwestern comfort food staples on the menu. The mystery of what the brothers had been fighting over was revealed to be something called “Sweet Soup,” a thick, almost gelatinous Norwegian tradition that half the family can’t seem to get enough of, and the other half won’t touch with a ten-foot pole. I choke down just enough to not be rude, but am pretty sure I’m solidly in the “not with a ten-foot pole” camp.

  Once everyone has their plates loaded up and is settled into eating, Joel, Charlie’s dad, raises a toast to his wife, and the room erupts in cheers. After sharing a meal with Charlie and his brother, I now understand why they are all freaking giants. The Viking blood must run strong around here because I don’t think I have ever seen so much food disappear in such a short amount of time.

  As the dinner starts to wind down and people begin grumbling about wanting dessert, Charlie, in all his charming glory, decides to show off. Grabbing a handful of leftover rolls from the basket on the table, he proceeds to attempt to juggle them. Charlie may be many things, and great at most of them, but apparently, juggling is not one of them. Of the five or six rolls he initially tosses in the air, he only catches one or two again, sending the rest bouncing across the table to land on people's plates, in the platters of leftovers, and one even bounces off Georgie’s forehead. The moment of sheer obnoxiousness catches everyone’s attention, and Barbie fixes her son with a stern gaze.

  “Charles Alexander Larson,” she snaps, using his full name like a warning.

  Everyone at the table snaps to attention, something instinctual triggering in our lizard brains at hearing someone’s full name in the “mom voice.”

  “Mom, come on, it’s just a bit of fun,” Charlie protests sheepishly.

  Barbie raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t raise you to juggle dinner rolls at the table. Have some manners, young man.”

  “Yeah, Charlie, take them outside onto the patio like a civilized person, damn,” Ollie laughs, sending his mom a teasing wink and earning an eye roll from her and an affectionate smack upside the head from his father, if there even is such a thing.

  The table devolves into chatter once again, and a few minutes later, I all but spit out my drink from laughing when I hear Georgie call out over the din of conversation.

  “Charles, could you please pass the water pitcher?”

  Without missing a beat, Charlie reaches for the pitcher and refills her glass. “Of course, George. Would you like a cookie as well?” he asks with exaggerated politeness, shooting me a wink over his shoulder.

  “Thank you, Charles, I would love one,” my daughter replies, with all the seriousness of a reigning monarch.

  The whole table erupts in laughter, and I can’t help but think how lucky I am to have found this quirky, loving group of people. Charlie catches my eye, and for a moment, it’s just the two of us, sharing a secret smile that promises so much more than words ever could.

  As the evening winds down, Charlie helps me gather our things, and we prepare to leave. Barbie gives me a warm hug, whispering, “You’re a good man, Callum. Take care of my boy.”

  I chuckle, returning the hug and reassuring her I will.

  Outside, the air is chilly, but Charlie’s hand is warm as he takes mine, our fingers tangling instinctively. The drive back is quieter, the silence filled with the comfortable ease between us and Georgie’s soft chatter from the back seat, reliving every moment of the night.

  When we arrive at my apartment, Georgie, exhausted from all the excitement, is fast asleep in her seat. Charlie turns to me, his eyes filled with a mix of tenderness and something more. Without saying a word, he leans in, capturing my lips in a soft, lingering kiss.

  The warmth of his touch sends shivers down my spine, just like it always does. It’s a quiet, tender moment that speaks volumes. When he pulls away, our eyes meet in the dark, and I see the sincerity in his gaze.

  “Thank you for tonight, Callum. I know it wasn’t the easiest or most laid-back night, but I’m glad you and Georgie could be a part of my family for a little while.”

  I can’t help but smile. “Thank you for inviting us. It’s been a long time since I’ve been a part of a family, and definitely not one like that. It was a great night. I think Georgie has a new best friend in your mom.”

  Charlie grins. “Yeah, pretty sure Barbie has already adopted Georgie as the grand-baby none of her heathen sons have given her yet.”

  We share one more lingering kiss before Charlie climbs out of the car and opens the back door to scoop Georgie up gently, without a word. He carries her up to the apartment, waving Betha as we pass her open apartment door on the way to the stairs, and I follow close behind.

  As Charlie and I work together to get Georgie changed and tucked into bed, we exchange sweet smiles and heated glances that speak volumes. This isn’t just about us anymore–it’s about building something together. A surge of warmth fills my heart as I watch Charlie tuck my daughter into her bed, ensuring she has King Kon with her before pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. I might not have been ready for this step this afternoon, but now that we’ve taken it, I wouldn’t change a thing.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHARLIE

  When Callum and I said we would take things as they came, not force anything, and just go with the flow when it came to whatever was going on between us, I never would have guessed that would turn into him coming home with me to meet my entire family. Or that it would mean sharing little looks and touches whenever we can manage it while working, or sneaking off to steal kisses that are somehow both the hottest and sweetest that I have ever experienced.

  I was skeptical at best after my conversation with Ollie when he talked about sexuality and attraction being a spectrum, and how this recent development between Callum and I could just be a new part of myself I hadn’t realized before. Honestly, I thought he was full of shit, and I was just having a weird momentary lapse in my regularly scheduled hetero life.

  Fuck, was I wrong. I have never felt this level of attraction and connection with someone. Anyone. In the past, with women, things were good, really good sometimes even, but there was always something that just didn’t click, or some reason why we never stayed together. It was never something against either of us. Things just always seemed to fizzle out. Admittedly, I went into this thing with Callum, expecting it to follow a similar path. Burn hot and bright for a bit but eventually just run its natural course and fade into the past.

  I couldn’t have been more wrong. It’s just been… easy between us since day one. I hit the dude with my car, for fuck's sake, and he still agreed to have dinner with me! Where I am used to putting in extra effort to make sure I spend time with women I’ve seen in the past, I can’t seem to get enough of spending time with Callum. And it’s not just him. I adore every moment I get to spend with Georgie, too. As the oldest, with none of my brothers in anything resembling a grown-up relationship, I haven’t had many chances to be around kids since I was one myself. Sure, some of my cousins have rugrats running around, but seeing them on holidays and actually spending time with them regularly are two drastically different things.

  Watching Georgie settle into her place in town and seeing how her little mind works has been one of the most entertaining and rewarding experiences of my life. That little girl fascinates me, and I could spend hours just sitting around playing games and talking with her. The fact her dad is gorgeous and has a mouth that seems to somehow act like a homing beacon for mine whenever we are within fifty feet of one another doesn’t hurt anything either.

  It’s been a couple weeks since that first kiss, and where I thought we would have maybe gotten bored or things would have run their course, it’s just not the case. We can’t get enough of each other. Admittedly, though, for someone who thought he was straight less than a month ago, I am definitely eager to, um, let's say, move things to the next level. We’ve shared intense make-out sessions, some that involve some great heavy petting and grinding all up on one another. We still haven’t taken it any further than that. I know Callum is worried this is just some fluke or experiment for me and is doing his best to take things slowly. Still, goddammit, I might die if I don’t do something about this raging case of blue balls soon. Rubbing one out in the shower every morning… and some evenings just isn’t cutting it anymore. Something’s gotta give.

  As the laughter and clinking of glasses surround us at the brewery tonight, I settle comfortably into what is quickly becoming our new normal. Callum and I are in our element, surrounded by the familiar sights and sounds of the taproom and the warm glow of the fairy lights Emily badgered Kendric into stringing through the ceiling to “add ambiance, you uncultured swine.” She’s truly delightful. But to be fair, she wasn’t wrong; they added something special to the place, but hell, if I ever admit that to her.

  Georgie sits at a table in the corner, engrossed in a game with Betha and my mom. Betha’s got a kind some and the patience of a saint, and has truly been an amazing help with Georgie. What started out as watching her once in a while for a change of pace has quickly become a staple in Callum and Georgie’s lives, watching over Georgie any time Cal has to work and handling dinners and bedtime like a champ when he works nights.

  I lean against the bar, watching the trio as they play whatever board game Georgie brought along this time. That little girl has a laugh that could brighten the darkest room, and she’s got both Betha and my mom in stitches. It’s heartwarming to see my mom, who’s usually the one doling out advice and running the show, caught up in whatever detailed explanation Georgie is giving in the commanding way only a six-year-old can pull off.

  Callum slides up next to me, wiping his hands on a towel and bumping his shoulder affectionately against mine. “Your mom is something else,” he says, a smile playing on his lips.

  I chuckle. “You have no idea. She hasn’t stopped talking about Georgie since her birthday, demanding I bring her over and let her play again.”

  Callum laughs, a sound that makes my heart skip and stutter and do all sorts of things that can’t be healthy for it. “She’s great, and she definitely has a fan in Georgie. I like her.”

  “Careful there, show your hand too soon with that one, and she’ll mother you to death before you know what hit you,” I say, knowing she’s already adopted both Callum and Georgie. I can only hold back the maelstrom that is Barbie Larson for so long.

  He shudders dramatically. “I’ll take my chances,” he says, pressing a quick, affectionate kiss to my temple. It's the little moments like this one that have started popping up more frequently between us that have my heart beating out of my chest and my stomach swooping. I feel like a damn schoolboy with his first crush, and I don’t know what to do about it other than just sit back and enjoy the ride.

  I glance over at the table, where Betha is now pretending to argue with Georgie about a stack of fake money. My mom grins like a Cheshire cat, clearly having the time of her life. I could get used to days like this.

  “So,” I say, nudging Callum with my elbow. “When was the last time you took a break? You know, like a real break. Not just hiding in the supply closet pretending to check inventory.”

  Callum’s eyes spark with heated amusement. “Hey, pretty sure you enjoyed that little ‘break’ the other day.”

  Damn right, I did. Who knew making out like horny high schoolers while on the clock and hiding from your coworkers could be so fucking hot? Though, admittedly, there was a bit of a learning curve I hadn’t expected that came back to bite me in the ass during that particular make-out session. Who knew sucking face with another guy like his mouth was your lifeline when you both have rather glorious beards could result in said glorious beards getting a little tangled and stuck together? Yeah. Not our most graceful moment.

  The memory of that encounter has my face heating and my cock taking notice, but I try to cover it with a cough while I reach down to adjust my fly as surreptitiously as possible. “Ass,” I say through another cough. “You know damn well I did. But that’s not what I meant, smartass.”

  Callum throws his head back and lets out a deep, full-bodied laugh at my predicament, the sound carrying through the taproom and drawing a few patrons' attention. Dick.

  When he gets control of himself again, he dramatically wipes away fake tears before continuing the conversation with a wink. “So, are you suggesting I’m a workaholic?”

  I give him an exaggerated look. “Me? Never.”

  He chuckles again. “Okay, okay. Maybe I could use a break.”

  “That’s the spirit!” I declare. “How about we go on a date this weekend? Like a real date. No brewery, no Georgie. Just you and me.”

  Callum raises an eyebrow at me with a sly grin. “Why, Charlie Larson, are you asking me out?”

  I feign offense. “Of course not! I’m just suggesting that a certain brewer needs to loosen up and have a little fun.”

  He smirks. “Fun, huh?”

  I nod solemnly. “It’s a revolutionary concept, I know. But I think we can pull it off.”

  As we banter back and forth, our exchange getting increasingly suggestive and downright dirty, my mom catches wind of our conversation when she comes up to grab a refill. She leans against the bar across from us, giving us a wink. “Do I hear date talk? About time! I’ll watch Georgie for you. You kids go and enjoy yourself.”

  I glance at Callum, who looks a bit unsure. The man is an amazing father, but it’s not hard to see he’s a little overprotective of Georgie. She’s his world, and other than a sister back in Denver he talks to every once in a while, Georgie’s all he’s got. I can’t blame him for being anxious to leave her with someone new.

  Barbie, ever the opportunist, seizes the moment. “It’ll be a girl’s night!” she says, clapping her hands excitedly before calling over her shoulder across the entire taproom. “Betha! Girl's night! You’re invited too!”

 

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