I nodded to Jaxon and Benji to follow before taking up the rear. Nash stood, shaking their hands, and I rounded to the head of the table to greet my father.
Clayton Berg was a mountain of a man. The blood of our Scandinavian ancestors was strong, giving us both a massive frame and blond hair. Dad’s was pure white now, but he was imposing if you didn’t know him well. The man loved his family and his ranch, in that order. He didn’t care for the frivolous things in life; the one luxury he allowed came in the form of a satellite dish so he could watch hockey after a hard day’s work.
Standing, he pulled me into a bear hug. I might be a grown man, but a hug from my old man made me feel protected.
He might be gruff and weathered, but he was my dad.
The man who taught me the value of hard work.
The man who took me to my first hockey game.
The man who told me he’d do anything to help me chase my dreams.
The man who never missed an opportunity to tell me how proud he was of me.
I respected the hell out of him. But above all else, I loved him.
Pulling out of our embrace, he clapped me on the shoulder. “Good to see you remembered our address.”
A smile crept up my face. It was good to be home.
“Okay, tell us an embarrassing story about Cal from when he was younger,” Benji begged my sister.
We sat around a fire behind the main house. My parents had loaded the boys up on a UTV and took them home to put them to bed, giving Zoe and Nash the evening off to spend time with me.
Zoe made a show of cracking her knuckles, and I groaned. “Here we go.”
Giving me an evil grin, she looked me dead in the eyes. “For whatever reason, you refuse to bring a girl home. These two knuckleheads might be the only audience I ever have for my riveting comedy special: Cal’s Misspent Youth Adventures.”
“So . . . what you’re saying is that if I ever do bring someone home, you’ll be fresh out of stories?”
Zoe snorted. “Yeah, keep dreaming.”
Benji took a swig from his beer bottle. “Come on, spill, Zoe.”
Thinking for a moment, she sat forward suddenly, patting Nash’s jean-clad knee. “Oh! I got one!”
“Hit me.”
“Don’t tempt me,” I grumbled at Benji’s eagerness.
Grinning, Zoe began, “Growing up on a ranch, our parents sometimes went to cattle auctions. When we got old enough, they would leave us home alone for the weekend. Cal was fourteen this particular weekend, and I was sixteen. When I called him for dinner, he didn’t come down or respond. So, I went up to his room . . .”
“Oh shit. Did you catch him . . .” Benji began to snicker.
“Did I mention Cal was a scrawny kid? He didn’t hit his full giant-Viking stature till college. I caught him, but thankfully, his weenie was teeny enough that I couldn’t see anything past his hand.”
Jaxon and Benji burst into fits of laughter.
Benji gripped his sides, gasping for air. “Damn, Zoe. You’re ice-cold. If you weren’t already married, I’d propose right now.”
“That’s not even the best part.” Zoe smirked.
I knew where this was going, but there was no stopping the Zoe train once it got rolling. All I could do was brace for impact. In this case, that meant downing my entire beer in one swig.
“I grabbed his nudie mag and bolted. Threatened to hold it hostage. Maybe even tell Mom. Cal chased me down the stairs in nothing but his boxers.” Jumping from her seat, Zoe added a physical aspect to her storytelling. “I saw the door, and inspiration struck. I threw it open, holding the magazine out like I was a bullfighter. Worked like a charm. Pretty boy here charged, and I let him snag it, but his momentum propelled him right out the door, and I locked him out.”
Jaxon snickered. “I amsoglad I have a brother.”
