The Bully (Calamity Montana #4)(38)

“That was fun.” Mom giggled, her arm looped with Dad’s.

“Sure was.” Dad yawned. “But we’d better get to the motel. I’m afraid if I sit on your couch, I’ll fall asleep.”

We skipped the house and went straight for the garage and piled into my sedan. Calamity’s tiny airport didn’t connect to commercial flights, so Mom and Dad had flown into Bozeman this morning, and I’d driven the two hours to pick them up. Their carry-on bags we’d left in the trunk. I was already dreading Sunday morning when we’d load them again and I’d have to drop them off.

“This trip is going by too fast,” I said as I pulled into the motel’s parking lot.

“We’ll be back.” Mom squeezed my shoulder from the passenger seat, then we climbed out to help Dad unload their bags from the trunk.

I hung back as they checked in to their room, studying the motel’s office and the overflowing flower pots outside. Where was the camper Cal was renting?

Why does my mind always jump to him?

“Breakfast tomorrow?” Dad asked as I walked them to room number five.

“Sounds good. Do you guys want to sleep in?”

“Yes,” they answered in unison. It was rare they could sleep late, so their answer was no surprise.

I laughed. “Let’s meet at the White Oak around nine.”

“We’ll be there.” He kissed my cheek, then hauled their luggage into the room while I hugged Mom goodnight.

The moment their door closed, I started for my car but curiosity got the better of me and I glanced around the parking lot once more. Cal’s camper must be parked next to the building. I passed the office and rounded the motel’s corner, spotting a white brick house tucked beyond the narrow alley.

My shoes crunched on the gravel path as I walked toward the house, and beside it, a Winnebago bus. The lights inside the camper glowed white against the darkness.

Just outside the RV’s door, Cal was sitting in a collapsible chair, his legs stretched long. His hands were stuffed into the kangaroo pocket of his hoodie, and his head was tipped toward the night sky.

He looked handsome. He looked peaceful.

He looked lonely.

And in that moment, all I wanted to do was crawl into his lap and hold him in my arms.

“Tell me what you hate about me.” He spoke without moving, his eyes still glued to the stars.

“How’d you know it was me?” I asked, taking the empty chair beside his. It was a different style and much nicer.

“What if I didn’t?”

“So you’re asking everyone in Calamity what they hate about you?”

“No, just you.” His voice, low and quiet, was a lure, drawing me in closer. He turned his cheek, his eyes dark pools in the muted light. “You drop your parents here?”

“Yeah.”

“How long are they in town?”

“Just the weekend.”

He nodded, then faced the heavens once more.

“About what happened at the bar . . .” I couldn’t bring myself to apologize. Because I wasn’t sorry for keeping him from my parents.

“It’s fine, Nellie.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Tell me.”

“No.” I mirrored his posture, stretching my legs out to watch new stars pop against the midnight backdrop.

“Please.”

A please? He must be desperate. “Why does it matter what I think?”

“Humor me.”

Maybe if he would have come over tonight at Jane’s despite my silent warning, I would have jumped on his demand. I would have listed things I hated about him. But tonight, it felt . . . wrong. So I stayed quiet.

The minutes passed in silence as we stared at the galaxy. Then Cal stood, retreating up the metal stairs to the RV. A drawer opened and closed. One of the lights flickered off.

It was late. My home beckoned. I pushed out of my chair, but did I leave? No. When Cal’s broad frame filled the doorway of the RV, I was standing at the base of the stairs.

He held out a hand.

If I took it, I’d go inside. He’d kiss me, and our clothes would make puddles on the floor.

“I hate that you’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.” I hated that the confession escaped my lips. I hated that I couldn’t resist him.

“Are you coming in?”

“I shouldn’t.”

“Nell.”

God, that voice.

My hand fell into his.

Cal stretched past me the moment I was up the stairs, grabbing the door to pull it closed. Then it was just the two of us, the world outside swallowed by the night. He crowded close. His fingertips skimmed my forehead, pushing the hair away from my temple before he bent, his mouth hovering over mine.

I waited for his kiss, our eyes locked. Except he made me come to him. That was how it always was, wasn’t it? Last time, it had been his turn. This time, it was mine.

So I sealed my lips over his and sucked his tongue into my mouth.

Hesitancy vanished. Lines blurred. The hate was set aside.

We dove into the oblivion.

He swept me into his arms and carried me the length of the RV to his bedroom. A strong arm kept me pinned against his body, our mouths fused, as the other flipped off the remainder of the lights, casting us in darkness.