How to Love Her: McCullough Mountain (McCullough Mountain Prequel) Read online




  How to Love Her

  A Prequel to McCullough Mountain

  Lydia Michaels

  Romance

  www.LydiaMichaelsBooks.com

  Lydia Michaels

  Romance

  HOW TO LOVE HER {McCullough Mountain Prequel}

  Copyright © 2016 Lydia Michaels

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission. Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden. If you do not want this book anymore, you must delete it from your computer. WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  www.LydiaMichaelsBook.com

  First E-book Publication: September 2016

  Edited by Elise Hepner

  Copyright © 2016 by Lydia Michaels

  Dedication

  To my dad.

  Thanks for being there for me when I needed you most.

  I love you and all your crazy Italian ways.

  You truly are one of my best friends…and the real Abe Froman.

  HOW TO LOVE HER

  McCullough Mountain Series Prequel

  Lydia Michaels

  Copyright © 2016

  Chapter One

  “Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit—shit!” Sweat beaded on Kate’s brow as she huddled over the sink staring down at the tiny stick of doom.

  The knob jiggled and her attention jerked to the door, heart palpitating, as she feared someone might burst in—not an unlikely occurrence in this house.

  “I’m in here!” she snapped, her frantic eyes jerking back to the pale blue lines growing darker every second.

  “What the heck, Kate? You’ve been in there almost an hour. I have to go.”

  “Damn it, Kelly, use Braydon’s bathroom.”

  With a huff, her youngest brother stomped down the hall, leaving her alone with nothing but a sinking sensation in the pit of her belly—a sinking sensation and, well, a baby.

  “Shit.”

  Plopping her bottom on the seat of the toilet she stared at the stick, dismay creeping over her in a cool heat that left her nauseous. Or perhaps that was morning sickness.

  “Katie?”

  Her eyes widened at the sound of her mother’s voice. Frantic to destroy the evidence, she grabbed the pregnancy test—unconcerned with the fact that it had been dunked in urine—and shoved it into her bra. Flushing the toilet, she inspected the small bathroom and turned on the faucet.

  Her mother—never easily avoided—knocked on the wooden door again. “Katherine? Are you ill? Kelly said you’ve been in there a while.”

  Ah, the pleasures of growing up in a house with nine people. “I’m fine, Mum. I’ll be out in a minute.” Shutting her eyes, she dowsed her hands with cool water, willing her heart rate to slow.

  “Are you constipated, dear?”

  “Jesus,” she cursed under her breath. “No, Mum. I’m fine.”

  “Is it your menses?”

  “For fuck’s sake,” she grumbled, shutting off the water. Pasting on a smile, she opened the door. “See. I’m fine.”

  Her mother frowned. “Well, you look like shite.” Pressing the back of her knuckles to Kate’s head, her mother scowled. “And clammy, too. Let me take your temperature.” Without invitation, her mother grabbed her ears and yanked her forehead to her lips. “You don’t feel as though you have a fever.” She released her hold of Kate’s head and studied her with a concerned scowl.

  Anxious to get the pregnancy test out of her bra, Kate pushed into the hall. “I’m not sick. I was just… going to the bathroom. It’s impossible to find any privacy in this house.”

  Her mother chuckled and followed her to her bedroom. “Don’t I know it? Seven children don’t make it easy. With so many there’s no time to make more, being that your father and I need to trek into the woods for a moment alone.”

  “Mum, no one wants to hear that.”

  “Well, the wildlife hasn’t a choice. Children bursting like bees out of a hive in this house. I’m lucky I don’t catch a tick bite.” A flutter of footsteps sounded in the hall and her head cocked to the side like an alert beagle. Suddenly, she turned and shouted, “Kelly! Don’t you leave this house without cleaning that room, you hear?” Her attention returned to Kate. “That boy is a slug, leaves a trail wherever he goes. Found a cup in his room yesterday that could have won a ribbon at the science fair. Why the Lord thought to punish me with five boys I haven’t a clue.”

  Ignoring her mother, Kate sorted through her drawers searching for a decent shirt. If she was going to see Nick she couldn’t go to him looking like some reject from Little House on the Prairie.

  Frustrated at her limited selection of clothing, she growled. “I need new clothes.” She slammed the drawer and went to the closet.

  Her mother busied herself collecting laundry off the floor. “They’re having a sale at McGinty’s this week.”

  Kate rolled her eyes. “I don’t want to buy my clothes where Daddy gets his coveralls and guns, Mum. I need something stylish.”

  “Oh,” her mother hummed. “Is this about that boy you’ve been seeing? He’s quite a looker. I bet he draws some fierce competition from the other girls.”

  “Mum!” Like she needed a reminder of how popular Nick was.

  Her mother shrugged, holding an armful of towels and jeans. “Well, he’s handsome. I can’t be the only one who sees it. You don’t go to a school for the blind, love. He probably gets his fair share of attention.”

  “Thanks. Like I wasn’t insecure enough.” The sad part was she was right. Everyone saw Nick and he noticed. He noticed a lot.

  “Oh, don’t be so down on yourself, dearie. A real man likes a woman with a little room in her trunk.”

  Kate stilled and slowly pivoted. Her mother wasn’t paying attention to her reaction or even remotely aware of how offensive she could be sometimes. “You have no filter.”

  Holding Kate’s clothing over her fuller frame as she admired herself in the mirror, her mother was too invested in her own fantasy world to see her daughter was in a crisis. Kate looked over her shoulder and analyzed her butt, wondering if it was above average. Not like it mattered anyway. Her body was going to swell up like a puffer fish over the next few months.

  “I see nothing wrong with the clothes you’ve got,” her mother muttered, admiring a green blouse that was almost five years old. “This is nice.”

  “Mum, that’s from eighth grade. I’m graduating.”

  “If we were the same size I’d be begging to borrow these things.”

  Two months. In two months she be finished high school and able to move out on her own. However, without a job that would be difficult and her new predicament didn’t make things any easier.

  Oh, God. What am I going to do?

  She needed to go to the pharmacy outside of town and buy another test. That’s what she needed to do. Snatching the blouse from her mother she asked, “Did you talk to Daddy about the secretary position at the lumberyard?”
/>   “It slipped my mind. He should be home any minute though. Why don’t you ask him? You know he can’t say no to you.”

  That might change once he realized she’d broken the big cardinal rule of Irish Catholic daughters. She couldn’t face him right now. “I’m meeting Cheryl at the movies in twenty minutes,” she lied. “Can I have some money?”

  Her mother scoffed. “What do I look like, a bank?” Her attention jerked toward the hall. “Colin! Where are you off to?”

  Her brother poked his head through the doorway. “I promised Father Mark I’d run a load of firewood over to the monastery for next season.”

  “Okay then. Light a candle for your brother.” It needed no clarification the brother she referred to was Kelly. She was always lighting candles for him.

  Kate took the opportunity to slip past her mother and escape further inquisition. Her younger siblings were crowded around the kitchen table pretending to do homework. Luke flicked a paper football at Finn as Sheilagh, the youngest, squirmed in her seat. Braydon was the only one actually writing in his books.

  “Where you going, Kate?” Sheilagh called, twiddling her pencil as she studied her big sister like a hawk.

  “Nowhere. Mind your own business.”

  Unfortunately, her little sister’s question drew the attention of Luke, Finn, and Braydon. Ignoring them, she helped herself to her mother’s pocketbook hanging by the door. Luke, seeing her take the twenty-dollar bill, nearly blew her cover.

  “Oooh, I’m telling Mum.”

  Kate sent him a scathing glance as she stuffed the wallet back in the bag. “She knows. Do your homework.” Folding the bill in half, she slid it into her pocket just before the screen door opened. Her stomach bottomed out as her father stepped into the kitchen, parking his plaid lunch pail on the counter where he always left it.

  Sheilagh bounded out of her seat and leapt into his arms and Kate took the opportunity to slip out the back before the screen door had a chance to shut. When she was behind the wheel of her Beretta, she let out a relieved breath.

  “Katie Girl,” her father called and she quickly turned the key in the ignition, but it was too late. He met her at the car door. “Where are you running off to? We’re about to have dinner.”

  “I’m meeting Cheryl—”

  “Not tonight. You’ve missed dinner almost every night this week. Come back inside and have dinner with your family.”

  “But—”

  He arched a brow and she sagged in the seat, shutting off the car. Her parents didn’t understand how crucial it was to get to town. Cheryl wasn’t even part of the equation. She was just the alibi and a very real complication that had once been her friend.

  If Kate didn’t make it to town eventually, Cheryl would. And while she never used to be in competition with her once best friend, things had changed drastically since Cheryl had gone on a date with Nick. Kate’s Nick. But he wasn’t hers any more than he was Cheryl’s or Connie’s or Madeline’s or Jill’s.

  Following her father back into the house, she struggled through a noisy, drawn out family dinner and knew she’d get no sleep knowing her once friend was likely sealing the deal with her sort of boyfriend. Lying in bed that night, Kate stared at the ceiling, worrying about what might happen if the test was accurate. She needed to buy another one to be sure and they weren’t cheap.

  She couldn’t be pregnant. She had plans and none of those plans had anything to do with children just yet. Not to mention, if she got pregnant her father would freak out. Her parents weren’t the sanest people in Center County. Far from it. But as much as outsiders assumed her mother was the crazy one, her father would go ape shit if he found out she was having sex.

  Images of Nick being bullied down a wedding aisle with her father’s shotgun jabbed in his back didn’t seem too far-fetched.

  “Oh, God,” she mumbled into the dark. If she could just take another test, prove it was a false positive, she’d never have sex again. Ever.

  Chapter Two

  Kate stared down at the six pregnancy tests in horror. Six! She’d taken one to the bathroom during every class and now she had six positives to show. As a stall door slammed and she stood alone in the locker room bathroom, she let her last shred of hope go and dropped her face into her palms. “Fuck me.”

  This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. She was supposed to have a year on her own. She wanted her own apartment, a real job, and freedom. She was supposed to be independent and have several mad love affairs before getting tied down. This changed everything. Not to mention the way her parents would look at her. Oh, they were going to be so disappointed.

  New voices echoed in the locker room and she swept the tests up and tossed them into the trash like a handful of lost dreams. Disoriented, she grabbed her bag and kept her head down as she sidled past the cheerleaders getting ready for practice. Lost in her thoughts and not paying attention to her surroundings, she pushed through the gymnasium door and slammed into a hard, sweaty body.

  Her purse fell out of her grip as pain exploded in her face. It took everything she had not to burst into tears, that sharp crash sending her dangerously close to the edge.

  “Are you okay?”

  Shaken, she merely registered his height and girth, her main focus on the radiating pain.

  “I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you,” the jock continued, his voice muffled under his helmet.

  Reaching down to retrieve her purse, her head smacked right into his oversized shoulder pad sending another splash of blinding pain through her head. “Jesus!”

  “Oh my gosh!” he blurted, pulling off his mud packed helmet. Dark, startled eyes stared at her, as she shook off what she hoped was the last of his assault. His black hair was damp with sweat, pressed into sloppy disarray and matted to his temples. The scent of earth and soil nearly did her in.

  Her fingers brushed her cheekbone where it had collided with his jersey as her other hand held the top of her head. Anyone else want to hurt me?

  She blinked as the sting transcended into burning tears, but she forced them back. “I’m fine.” Her vision blurred, the scent of soggy grass still turning her stomach. Her brow pinched tight, a headache already taking hold.

  “Uh…” He took a step forward. “Why don’t you sit down for a minute?”

  “Okay.” Dizzy and jarred from the two collisions, she unsteadily nodded. Without considering anything more than the fact she didn’t want to pass out, she lowered herself to the gymnasium floor.

  “I meant on the bleachers, but this works too.” He took a knee and frowned. “You might get a shiner. I’m really sorry.” Reaching behind his hip, he retrieved her purse and set it in her lap. “I should get you some ice.”

  Shaking off the pain, she waved away his concern. “That’s really not necessary. I’m fine. I wasn’t watching where I was going.” She moved to get off the floor and he caught her arm as her equilibrium wavered.

  “Wait another minute before standin’. You cracked me pretty hard, champ.” He knocked his knuckles on the plated shoulder pad stretching his jersey. “These aren’t soft.”

  When she squinted at him, but made no reply, he said, “I’m Ant.”

  She frowned at the little syllable of a name. “Ant? Like the bug?”

  He laughed. “No, Ant as in Anthony.”

  Now that her head had stopped spinning, she finally got a good look at him and wondered why she didn’t recognize him. “Are you new here?”

  “Transferred in last fall. My family moved here from Philadelphia.”

  That explained his slight accent. When he spoke he seemed to swallow his L’s and T’s. “You talk fast.”

  His dark eyes shifted as if considering her comment. “I think I talk at a normal speed.”

  She laughed. “Tawk?”

  “Tawk,” he repeated and frowned. Then he mumbled, “Tawk. Tawk. Tallllk. Now it sounds weird no matter how I say it. You okay to stand up now?”

  His accent was the strangest
twang she’d ever heard. “Yeah, I think I’m okay to stand up nail.”

  He pursed his lips. “Bit of a ball breaker, aren’t ya?”

  “Not usually.” Maybe it was the two thwacks to the head.

  He grinned, his teeth flashing white against his tan skin. “Here, I’ll help you stand, smart ass.”

  Taking his offered hand, she barely put any effort forth as he hoisted her onto her feet and steadied her, reminding her again how tall he was. “What are you, a quarterback?”

  “Offensive lineman. Guess you don’t come to the games.”

  “Not lately.” Or ever, but if she’d known this was what was hiding under those helmets she might have had more school spirit.

  “That’s a shame.”

  “Well, I was planning on going to the next game. When is it again?”

  He laughed. “Season’s over, champ. We’re just helping coach with the JV tryouts for next year.”

  She was an idiot. “Oh. I guess I’m more of a baseball girl.”

  His mouth hooked into a half grin as his gaze softened, dark lashes feathering over deep brown irises. “What’s your name?”

  Those eyes. They were hypnotic. “Katherine McCullough.”

  Recognition flashed in his gaze. “Is your brother Luke McCullough?”

  “He’s one of my brothers. I have five.”

  “Five? Holy shit.”

  “You know Luke?”

  “Anyone who follows the game knows your brother. He’s incredible. He’ll have a scholarship to play ball before he’s a junior if he keeps at it.”

  Luke loved football in a fanatical sense, which was probably why she didn’t follow the sport. When the living room was dominated by every national and college game and draft pick, and the dinner conversation centered on drawn out debates over plays and coaches, it seemed impossible to stomach another minute of sports talk. But she hadn’t realized he was that notable of a player for a varsity offensive whatever you call it to know his name. Now she really felt terrible for not following the school games more closely.