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The Bully (Calamity Montana #4)(58)

Author:Willa Nash

“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?”

I laughed and went to the fridge, pouring my son some milk in his favorite cup. Then I retreated to the living room to shut off the TV.

A pair of strong arms banded around me as I tossed the remote on the couch.

“I’m proud of you too,” I told Cal.

“Team effort.”

He’d told me his idea for the camp not long after our wedding, and from the moment he’d voiced his dream, I’d been right at his side, encouraging him to see it through. Once football had consumed his life. Now, his focus was our family. But this camp was a wonderful purpose for him and a chance for him to stay connected to the game he loved so much.

I spun around, rising on my toes for a kiss. “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

“Mommy, I need more.” Tripp came running my way, his already empty cup thrust into the air.

“Okay, baby.” I took the cup, knowing I was in for a fight because it was getting refilled with water.

“Nell. Wait.”

“Yeah?” I turned to see one of Cal’s heart-stopping smiles.

“Tell me what you hate about me.”

Years together and he’d never quit this little game. I’d had to get creative since, when it came to Cal, there was a lot more to love than to hate.

“I hate that you’re going to snub our guests later and haul me to the bedroom for a quickie. It’s rude, Cal.”

“And I’m not even sorry.”

I winked. “Neither am I.”

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