The Bully (Calamity Montana #4)(37)

Mom drained the rest of her tea. “Okay, let’s go.”

We set off at a leisurely pace, in no rush as we strolled along First. Dad and I wandered into the coffee shop for an afternoon latte while Mom opted to stay on a bench and people-watch.

Mom pulled us into each retail store to browse, not buy. She rarely splurged and this trip had likely drained their fun money fund.

I’d offered to purchase their plane tickets but Mom had insisted. She’d also told me not to even ask Dad—his pride was a beautiful and frustrating quality. Another personality trait we had in common.

“Jane’s.” Mom nodded to the bar as we stood beneath its sign. “Is this Pierce’s place?”

“No, he and Kerrigan own the brewery.” I pointed down the road. “Want to go there for dinner and a beer?”

“How about we save that for tomorrow?” Dad took the lead, opening the door to Jane’s for us both. “Let’s try this place tonight. It looks fun.”

“Oh, it’s got character.” I stepped in first, letting my eyes adjust to the darkened light, then scanned the room.

It smelled of burgers and fries and a good time. The music was cranked loud. Jane was behind the bar, mixing a cocktail. Most of the tables were full as were the stools at the bar itself.

A broad frame and wide shoulders pulled my gaze. I’d know that backward hat anywhere.

Shit. Of course Cal would be here today of all days. Karma was a bitch. Hadn’t he learned his lesson the last time he’d visited Jane’s?

“What’s wrong?” Mom asked, stepping in behind me.

“Nothing.” I forced a smile and steered her to an empty table. She didn’t notice Cal as we sat down, mostly because her back was to him. I held out the other chair that faced away from the bar. “Here you go, Dad. You can sit here.”

“No, I want to sit across from my gorgeous wife so I can stare at her all night.” He bent and kissed her cheek before taking his seat. A seat that faced the bar.

I grimaced, then pulled out my chair.

“You weren’t lying.” Dad laughed as he looked around. “Lots of character. I like it.”

“Me too,” Mom said as the waitress appeared with menus and took our drink order.

“What’s good here?” Dad asked, glancing around the room. I felt it the moment he spotted Cal. His body stiffened. His smile dropped. His eyes shot my way for an explanation.

“Sorry,” I whispered.

Dad frowned and gave me the we’ll talk about it later look.

“I think I’ll try a cheeseburger and sweet potato fries.” Mom’s menu closed with a slap. Her chair’s legs scraped on the floor as she stood. “I’m going to find the restroom and wash my hands. If the waitress comes back while I’m gone, order for me.”

“Okay.” I held my breath as she walked away, hoping she didn’t see Cal. She walked right past him, totally oblivious that he was at the bar. I slumped as I exhaled. Phew.

“Tell me that’s not who it looks like,” Dad said.

“I can’t.” I sighed. “Sorry. I should have told you.”

“What’s he doing here?” Dad’s eyes were glued to Cal’s spine.

“Apparently he’s living here too.”

“You’re joking.”

I shrugged. “He’s friends with Pierce too, remember?”

“Now I wish you would have stayed in Denver. I don’t want you anywhere near that man.”

Oh, if he only knew. “It’s fine, Dad. I learned to tolerate Cal a long time ago. We avoid each other.” Sort of.

He huffed and returned to his menu. “I still don’t like it.”

“I know.”

Cal must have felt my gaze on his back because he twisted, looking over his shoulder. When he spotted me, he spun away from the bar. Then he froze as he spotted Dad. He sat straighter. He squared his shoulders. One foot slid off his stool’s rung for the floor and he moved like he was going to walk over.

“No,” I mouthed, shaking my head.

Cal wasn’t welcome near my father, my rule not Dad’s.

His shoulders fell. His chin dropped. Then he turned on his stool once more, facing away. A moment later, his hand dug into his jeans pocket for his wallet. With a wad of cash left on the bar, he slid off his stool and crossed the room, head down as he strode to the door.

I tracked every step, watching those long legs and that natural swagger until he was out the door. It should have made the room feel lighter. It should have made me happy.

But damn that guilt.

Damn that wounded look on his face.

“Did you order?” Mom slid into her seat, a wide smile on her face.

“Not yet, sweetheart.” Dad put his hand on her shoulder, his thumb tracing a circle on her shirt. Whatever irritation he’d felt from Cal, he’d hide simply to make sure that Mom was smiling.

He protected her.

Like he protected me.

I pushed Cal out of my mind to enjoy the evening with my parents. We talked about their life in Arizona. We laughed as Mom got buzzed off a single tequila sunrise. We inhaled greasy burgers and each other’s company until our plates were empty. Then after I insisted on paying for dinner, we meandered along the quiet streets to my home.