The Bully (Calamity Montana #4)(43)

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.