The Bully (Calamity Montana)

FOR THE TENTH time since I’d unrolled my yoga mat at The Refinery, I glanced out the windows toward the street. Besides the instructor pacing the sidewalk while talking on her phone, there was no sign of Cal.

There’d been no sign of Cal for a week.

Not since last Saturday when he’d walked downtown with my parents.

I’d assumed he’d simply been avoiding public spaces while my family had been in town visiting. The apology he’d given Dad had been . . . nice? And totally out of character for Cal. He rarely admitted his mistakes. I’d figured his absence was another anomaly, and for once, he’d been heeding my wishes.

But since he’d moved here, Cal had been a constant irritation. Going a week without seeing him was unsettling. Where was he?

Neither Mom nor Dad had mentioned Cal during the rest of their short vacation weekend, though Dad had been quieter than normal as we’d wandered up and down First. Maybe one day we’d talk about Cal. Probably not. After all this time, there just wasn’t much to say. What was done was done, and Dad had moved on.

My parents and I’d had a bittersweet farewell at the airport last Sunday with tight hugs goodbye. I’d already booked a trip to see them at Thanksgiving, and they were hoping to return to Calamity this fall.

Other than missing them a bit more than normal, my week had been fairly mundane. Without Cal popping up at random times, life had been almost boring.

I’d been sure he’d come to yoga today to torment me.

The door opened and my eyes flew to the glass. I hated that I hoped to see his broad frame cross the threshold.

But it was Larke who breezed inside the studio with a yoga mat tucked under an arm. She waved at me, stowed her shoes, then took the space beside mine. “Hey. Phew. I thought for sure I was going to be late.”

“You made it just in time.” Class started in two minutes. And still, no sign of Stark.

Larke relaxed onto her mat, sitting in an easy pose. “Have you ever been to Hawaii?”

“Yes.” Hawaii always made me think of Cal. “Why?”

“I was thinking about booking a quick vacation over the school’s winter break. Escape the snow. Maybe make it a girls’ trip since the chances of me finding an actual man to take to the beach are dwindling daily. Would you want to go?”

“Definitely.” Whenever it was, I’d make it happen.

“Yay.” She smiled, unaware to how much that invitation meant.

I’d never been invited on a girls’ trip.

In college, I’d watched girls leave in packs for their spring break vacations to Florida. Meanwhile, I’d stayed behind and worked extra hours. My most exciting winter break had been junior year when I’d flown home to Denver and had helped Mom deep clean and organize her kitchen cabinets on Christmas Eve. The years after I’d graduated from UNC had been just as uneventful.

A few years ago, I’d rented a tiny cabin in the Colorado mountains to get away from the city for a weekend, but I’d gone alone. Any other vacations I’d taken were usually working vacations when I’d accompanied Pierce to wherever he was traveling.

That was why I’d traveled to Hawaii.

Pierce had been going through a lot in his personal life. He’d wanted to get out of Denver for a week and clear his head, except he hadn’t wanted to go alone, so he’d invited me along to hang out.

Cal also decided to play the role of supportive friend, and as a surprise, he showed up just hours after we’d arrived.

To this day, I wondered if his shock at seeing me answer the door was genuine. Knowing Cal, he’d shown up just to irritate me.

My plan had been to avoid him. The house Pierce owned on Maui was enormous, and we could easily have kept thousands of square feet between us. Which was exactly what we’d done during the first day on the island.

But that night, I had trouble sleeping. Cal found me in the theater room. One kiss led to two, then he carried me to his bedroom. After an hour of sex, I went to the kitchen for a snack.

Instead of giving me space, Cal followed in his boxers.

I was standing at the fridge, wearing only my robe and planning to make myself an omelet, when his bare feet came to a stop beside mine. But before I could take out the carton of eggs, he made a snide comment about cooking for him too since I had more practice at the stove. Not just because I was a woman but because I was too poor to have a personal chef like His Majesty King Stark.

Pierce broke up our screaming match at three in the morning.

Cal flew out the next day as soon as his pilot was awake and ready.

And I told Pierce that if he ever put Cal and me under the same roof again, even accidentally, I’d quit and never speak to him again.

A Hawaii redo sounded like magic.

Especially with a friend.

The instructor came inside and greeted the class before taking her position by the mirrors. Then silence fell over the room as we all began to practice.

I guess Cal wasn’t coming to yoga. That should have loosened the knot in my stomach. Why didn’t it?

An hour later, Larke and I waved goodbye as she headed toward her car, and I began the lazy stroll to my house. I passed the White Oak, peering inside the windows to see if Cal was inside. I stopped by the coffee shop, ordering a latte before glancing at every table, wondering if I’d find his face.

But it was like he’d vanished and the only person who remembered his imprint was me.

Cal was okay, right? He was probably just holed up in his camper. Unless . . .

Had he left town? Had my plan to make his Calamity experience agony actually worked? No. No way. He was too stubborn to give up. He was too competitive to lose.

But what if he was really gone?

That knot in my stomach only got tighter. I left the coffee shop with an iced latte in hand and the beginning of a headache blooming behind my temples.

If Cal was gone, then Calamity was mine. All mine.

The sidewalks should have felt different as I walked home. Free. Every step should have felt like a victory.

So why did I feel this strange twang of guilt? Like I’d done Cal dirty?

By the time I got home, my stomach was roiling. I hadn’t taken more than three sips of my drink, but the coffee was tossed down the drain before I swept up my car keys and drove to the motel.

I bypassed the parking lot and headed straight down the alley.

There were no lights on inside the Winnebago. Cal’s camping chair wasn’t outside, and his Land Rover was gone.

I reversed away, fumbling for my phone as I pulled onto the street again, destination home. Pierce’s name was beneath my finger, ready to be dialed, but I stopped myself.

“Cal is not my problem.” I threw the phone into the passenger seat, and it bounced to the floor, safely out of my reach.

Maybe if Stark was gone, I could actually relax. This was a good thing. I’d stop looking for him on First Street. I’d stop wondering if we’d bump into each other at Jane’s. I’d stop worrying about bruising his feelings.

And I wouldn’t have to see his Land Rover parked outside my house.

“Damn it.” I groaned at the sight of his SUV, though my heart did a traitorous skip. “Freaking Cal.”

The sense of relief as I pulled into my driveway and parked in the garage was as frustrating as the man who met me on the sidewalk.

“Hi.” He jerked up his chin.

Without his usual baseball hat and sunglasses, he looked exposed. Vulnerable. Cal was standing in the sunshine, dressed in a simple T-shirt and a pair of faded jeans. His hair was finger-combed, still too long and sexy. Put a football in that man’s hands and my ovaries would likely explode.

The bastard.

“Hi.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Where have you been?”

He smirked. “I figured you’d miss me, sugar.”

“What was that?” I cupped a hand to my ear. “I couldn’t hear you over your ego.”

His smug grin flattened. “Thought you wanted me to move.”

“I do.” Didn’t I? Yes. He had to leave. The reason I was relieved to see him wasn’t because I wanted him to stay. It was because now I knew where he was. Now he couldn’t sneak up on me.

But yes, Cal absolutely had to leave Montana. The sooner the better.

“I spent the week in Bozeman,” he said. “Got out of town.”

“But you came back,” I muttered. “Lucky me. What do you want?”

He inhaled a long breath, like what he was about to ask was going to take some effort. His fingers snapped three times at his side. “I need a favor.”

“Let me guess. ‘Tell me what you hate about me.’” I dropped my voice in an attempt to imitate his. “No. How about we just leave the specifics out of it? I find you abhorrent, end of discussion.”

“Abhorrent?”

“Is that too big of a word for you?” Okay, yeah. It was sort of a nasty word too.

“Just . . . extreme.” His jaw clenched. “Can we save the banter for another Saturday? Like I said, I need a favor.”

“What favor? Wait.” I held up a finger. “It better not be sexual.”

He chuckled. “I don’t really need to ask you for sexual favors, do I?”

No, he didn’t. I was a willing participant and an instigator. Because when it came to Cal, I was a weak, weak woman. Those hazel eyes and that stubbled jaw were irresistible.

“What’s the favor?”

“My agent is coming to town,” he said. “He wants to go to dinner.”

“Okay,” I drawled. “Do you need restaurant recommendations? Because I just ate at the Pizza Palace. Highly recommend.”

“God, can you not be snarky?” He shook his head. “I need a date to dinner.”

And he was asking me? “Really?”

“Yeah. Will you go with me?”

“As your date? Have you lost your mind? I’m sure you can find someone else.” Hell, he could just stroll down First looking like he did today and he’d have multiple candidates to choose from within minutes. Like my yoga instructor.

“I need a date who’s not a date. Someone who’s not going to think it’s an actual date.”

“To meet with your agent? Why?” Wasn’t that the sort of meeting you’d take one-on-one?

He rubbed the back of his neck. “He wants me to take this job.”

“With a team? Which one?” A jolt of excitement raced through my mind at the idea of Cal playing football again. If Cal took a position, he’d be gone from Calamity. I’d know exactly where he was during the season.

“Not with a team. With a media network. I’d be an NFL commentator with ESPN.”

“Oh.” Watching him on camera wouldn’t be nearly as exciting if he was providing commentary about a game instead of playing it. Especially considering his onscreen persona was usually so . . . Cal. “You? Really?”

“Trust me, you’re not the only one surprised. I guess they want an unlikable asshole to rile people up. Cause some controversy and boost ratings.”

“Well, they’ve found the right man.”

“I’m not doing it.”

“Probably a smart decision.”

“My agent has been persistent.” Probably because he didn’t get paid unless Cal was working.

“Just say no. To drugs and ESPN,” I teased.

“I have. He still wants to meet.”

“Why would you need me to pretend to be your date just to watch you tell your agent no?” What was I missing?

“I don’t meet with him alone.”

I blinked. “Huh?”

“I don’t meet with my agent alone.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes. I’ve never met with him alone. It’s a lesson my father taught me.”

The mention of his father made my body tense. “He’s your agent. Doesn’t he work on your behalf?”

“He negotiates on my behalf. So I always have a witness for our conversations.”

“That’s . . .” Sad.

Cal really didn’t trust anyone, did he? Not even those who should be on his side. Or maybe he’d trusted them and he’d been betrayed one too many times. Either way, my heart twisted.

“When I lived in Nashville, my assistant would go with me,” he said. “But I don’t have an assistant here. I’d ask Pierce but—”

“No.” Shit. Cal knew I wouldn’t make Pierce go to a dinner that I was perfectly capable of attending myself.

“It’s one dinner, Nellie.”

“Say please.”

“Please.” He said it without a grumble or grimace, meaning he was desperate.

“Fine.” I shot him a glare when he grinned. “When?”

“Tonight.”

“Tonight? What if I had plans?”

“Do you?”

I wanted to say yes. I wanted to tell him I had a hot date, simply to see how he’d react. But he’d see through a lie. “What time?”

“I’ll pick you up at quarter to six. We’re meeting at a steakhouse out of town. It’ll take fifteen minutes to get there.”

“Quarter to six. Anything else?”

He scanned me up and down, his gaze lingering as it caressed my tank top and leggings. His hungry gaze devoured me whole.

A pulse drummed low in my belly. A wave of heat spread through my limbs.

This feeling and that look on his face usually landed me in trouble, so I took a step away before turning and striding for the house.

“Nellie?” he called.

I slowed, looking back, but I didn’t stop moving. Not until we had a locked door between us. “What?”

“Thank you.”

It was genuine. Cal was rarely genuine.

It made me want him that much more.

“Go away, Stark.”