The Bully (Calamity Montana #4)(79)

Thankfully, Pierce and Kerrigan arrived with their kids. Larke showed up next, followed by the rest of our friends from town. Harry arrived last, and as usual, knew everyone but my parents.

Mom and Dad were the epitome of friendly. They laughed and joked with our friends, but they always chose the cluster that didn’t include Cal.

Yeah, we were most definitely having a chat tomorrow.

“Ugh,” I muttered, plucking a carrot from the vegetable tray on the kitchen island.

“What’s wrong?” Larke asked.

“I’ll tell you later. It’s just more of the same crap with my parents and Cal. At our next girls’ night, I’ll give you the full scoop.”

“Yeah, I’ve, uh . . . got a little scoop of my own.”

“You do?” I studied her face, my gaze dropping to her water glass. Everyone in the house was drinking a beer or glass of sangria. Everyone but me. And Larke. “You’re not drinking.”

“I’m not drinking.”

My jaw dropped. “Are you pre—”

“Shhh.” She put a finger to her lips. “I haven’t told anyone yet. Including Kerrigan.”

“But you’re telling me? Before your sister?”

“Duh. You’re my best friend.”

“Aww.” I pulled her into my arms. “You’re my best friend too.”

I’d made a lot of best friends in Calamity. The absolute best? Cal. Not that I’d admit it. His ego still needed tending.

“Details later,” I said, letting Larke go and lowering my voice. “I had no idea you’ve been sleeping with someone.”

“I’m not. I mean, I did, but just as a fling.” She checked over her shoulder to make sure no one was listening. “I met him in Hawaii.”

“Oh.”

Our girls-only trip had never happened. Larke, Kerrigan and I had gone to Hawaii, but both Cal and Pierce had tagged along. Larke hadn’t said it, but I got the impression she’d felt like the fifth wheel, so this year for spring break, she’d taken a beach vacation alone.

And got knocked up.

“Who—”

Before I could finish my sentence, Pierce hollered, “Hey, Nellie! Get in here! Cal, you too.”

I rushed to the living room, expecting to find something wrong with Tripp, but he was off playing somewhere with the other kids. “What?”

Every adult stared at the television.

Pierce snagged the remote from the end table and cranked the volume.

“What’s going on?” Cal came in behind me, his hands going to my shoulders. Then he saw the screen. “Oh.”

Before he could sneak out, I slapped my hand over his, holding him to me. “Don’t you dare disappear.”

Next to the ESPN announcer’s face was a headshot of Cal. “This next story tonight is going to pull at your heartstrings. Many of you remember Cal Stark who was just inducted into the Pro Football Hall of Fame. The former star quarterback for the Tennessee Titans is making news again this spring after donating thirty million dollars to create a sports camp outside Bozeman, Montana for disabled children and kids with terminal illnesses.”

I leaned against Cal’s body, smiling as the announcer continued to explain how the camp was currently under construction and would open next summer.

We’d already started receiving online applications for kids interested in attending. Pierce was kicking in fifteen million too, and though he’d hated doing it, Cal had been calling former teammates and NFL colleagues, either to donate time or make celebrity appearances at the camp.

“The camp is named Camp Hollis York after a youth who met Stark through the Make-A-Wish Foundation,” the announcer said. “Sadly, Hollis passed years ago, but not before making an impression on Stark. In the press release, Stark said, and I quote, ‘Hollis York was a brave and kind soul. Knowing him was one of the greatest privileges in my life. This camp is to honor his memory and celebrate his love of sports.’”

My eyes flooded as I looked up to Cal.

He swallowed hard, wrapping an arm around my shoulders to pull me closer. Then before I could stop him, he let me go and escaped to the kitchen, hollering, “Let’s eat.”

Pierce handed me the remote and followed Cal. Then the rest of the party retreated, leaving only Mom, Dad and me with the television.

“Was it your idea for the camp?” Dad asked.

“No, it was his.”

Dad shared a look with Mom, then stood, passing me for the kitchen. He walked right to Cal, clapped him on the shoulder and gave him a nod. “Proud of you, Cal. That camp is a great idea.”

“Thanks, Darius.”

“And good idea, catering this shindig. Save Nellie and you the hassle of cooking. Plus we’ll have leftovers while we’re here this week.”

“Uh . . . yeah.” Cal looked at Dad, then to me.

I smiled wider.

“He’s a good man, isn’t he?” Mom asked, coming to my side.

“The best.”

She sighed. “We haven’t taken enough time to get to know him.”

“No, you haven’t.”

“I’m sorry. We’ll do better.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

Tripp flew past us, racing toward the kitchen and Cal. “Daddy, can I have my choc-it milk?”