The Bully (Calamity Montana #4)(5)

“Cwackas,” Elias answered.

“Okay. Here’s your apple juice.”

I hovered in the living room, keeping a wall between us. She didn’t need me here. Elias was in good hands because like me, she adored him.

Technically, Nellie was Pierce’s employee, his assistant, but that was simply a label. If he had to choose, I wasn’t sure if he’d pick my friendship over hers. Which was probably why I’d never pushed him to choose sides.

Snap. Snap. Snap.

She growled from the kitchen, and I could practically hear her eyes roll.

I walked to the other window in the living room, yanking it open too. Boxes were stacked against every wall. The room wasn’t large to begin with, but with the cardboard, it was claustrophobic. And there was nowhere to sit. The couch was stacked with boxes too.

“Where’s your TV?” I asked, striding into the kitchen.

“I don’t have one.” She cast me a dismissive glance, then focused on Elias, sweeping crumbs off his shirt as he munched on wheat crackers.

“You don’t have a TV.”

“I don’t have a TV.”

I blinked. “Why?”

“Because I just moved here. Because I sold the one I had in Denver. Because I rarely watch TV, and unlike you, I don’t need SportsCenter to feel good about myself.”

“No, you just need a bottle of hair bleach and a crop top.”

If looks could kill, Nellie would have flayed the skin from my bones nineteen years ago. I guess you could say by now, I was used to that murderous, green glare.

“Can’t we go somewhere else?” I planted my hands on my hips. “Where there are more than two seats?”

After Kerrigan’s water had broken, Nellie and I had walked to her house with Elias in tow. We were only a couple of blocks off First. There had to be places for both kids and adults in Calamity. Pierce and Kerrigan had just opened up a brewery downtown. I hadn’t been there yet but maybe they’d put in a kids’ play area.

“We are staying here.” Nellie nodded to Elias. “If you want to sit, the couch is all yours.”

“It’s full of boxes.”

“Then move them. They go in the office upstairs. First door on the left.” She pointed at the ceiling, a smirk on her pink lips. “Unless you’re afraid to lift anything heavy and hurt your back. Oh, wait. You don’t have to worry about silly injuries anymore. Because you got fired.”

“I didn’t get fired,” I gritted out. “I retired.”

“Did you though?” She tapped her chin. “Because they didn’t rehire you. So it’s sort of like they showed you to the door.”

This woman.

My blood began to boil.

She was goading me into an argument because usually a fight would send both of us storming away in opposite directions. Except I wasn’t leaving. Not until we heard from Pierce. Not until we knew that Kerrigan and the baby were okay.

Nellie wanted me to move boxes? Fine, I’d move boxes. A floor between us seemed like a damn good idea.

I stalked out of the kitchen and hefted the first box from her couch. The label taunted me, a blinding neon yellow. Books. Of course, she’d have me hauling books.

The staircase was steep and the treads nowhere near deep enough for my size-twelve shoes. The wooden handrail was scratched and dinged from years of use. The hallway upstairs felt too narrow for my broad shoulders. But at least the ceilings were tall, and I didn’t have to duck to pass through a doorway.

The first room on the right was Nellie’s bedroom. Apparently, she’d already unpacked the boxes for that space. A velvet, olive quilt covered the mattress. A mountain of white pillows rested against the oatmeal tufted headboard. The walls were the same startling white as they were in the rest of the house, and not a single box could be found.

Pierce was setting up a satellite office in Calamity for his investment company. He’d mentioned earlier that Nellie had moved here two weeks ago.

Clearly, she’d made getting settled a priority. If all that remained of her boxes were those in the living room, she’d be fully unpacked soon.

She had a head start on life in Montana. I didn’t like that she was ahead.

Across the hall from her bedroom was the office. Three empty bookshelves hugged the longest wall. I dropped the box beside her desk, then jogged downstairs to collect the last two.

Except there weren’t two on the couch. There were three.

“Did you just put another box on the couch?” I asked her.

“It goes upstairs too.” Nellie sauntered into the living room, her hips swaying with each step.

Her jeans molded to her slight curves. The cropped tank showed a sliver of her flat, toned stomach. Her hair was down, the white-blond strands hanging in sleek panels to her waist. And those pretty eyes were always full of fire.

She was maddeningly attractive.

“I’m not moving this shit for you.”

She glanced over her shoulder to Elias who was too busy gulping apple juice to hear that I’d cussed. “Because you’re so busy at the moment? It’s a few boxes. And they’re heavy.”

“Then don’t buy books. Or, follow my lead, and hire a moving company. I’m not going to move my own stuff, let alone yours.”

“I—Wait. You’re moving here? From Nashville?”