The Bluff: Calamity Montana - Book 2

by Nash, Willa

  I shifted, sidestepping away.

  He came closer again.

  Another sidestep for me.

  An advance from him.

  What the hell? This was bullshit. Absolute bullshit. This was my house and he was a guest. Was this some sort of intimidation tactic?

  Fuck this guy. I met his gaze and raised my chin. “Would you mind getting out of my bubble?”

  He sniffed the air. “You smell nice.”

  The arrow on my mental creep-o-meter jumped from mild to extreme. “I’m really not yours to smell.” Not a sentence I’d ever thought I’d have to say. “Please. Step back.”

  He uncrossed his arms and made a move like he was going to leave, but then a hand shot out and wrapped around my forearm, dragging me closer.

  The motherfucker put his nose to my hair.

  “Don’t touch me.” I tried to wrench my arm from his grip, but he held it so tight there’d be a bruise.

  “I saw you looking at me all night.”

  Uh, what? This guy was delusional. “Let me go.”

  “I saw you this weekend too. Shopping at the store. You and Hux going up and down the aisles together. Couldn’t hardly believe it. Was happy for him, that he found a good woman. But then you were eye fucking me last night and now he’s gotta know you’re just another whore. I know all about what his ex did to him. Won’t let you do it too.”

  My heart dropped. No. No, not this again. Panic from the past came rushing back. Fears I’d tried so hard to beat surged to life.

  Chase had been watching us.

  He’d been watching me.

  I couldn’t fill my lungs. The strength left my arms and my mind blanked as he leaned in again. It was the scent of his morning breath that snapped me out of my panic. But even as I tried to get free, his grip only tightened.

  “Get the fuck away from her.” A roar filled the room, and in a flash, Chase was out of my space. Hux had ripped him away and with a shove, Chase’s hip slammed into the counter. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  “She wants me, man.” Chase held up his hands. “Last night, she kept staring at me. Then she sneaks down here this morning to make a play. You gotta know. I’m just looking out. I always got your back.”

  “What?”

  “I’m telling you, she wants me.”

  Oh, God. My stomach churned. “No. Never.”

  “Get out.” Hux’s arms flew into Chase’s chest, shoving him out of the kitchen. One shove, then two, and Chase tripped over his own feet, nearly falling but he caught himself at the last minute. Before he could stand firm, Hux shoved him again.

  “Hux. Come on,” Chase pleaded. “We’re friends.”

  “Get. Out. No one touches my wife.” He kept pushing until Chase’s back rammed into the wall beside the front door. Chase had the bulk on Hux, but Hux had height, speed and fury.

  Hux threw the door open and without the slightest second of hesitation, pushed Chase outside.

  The door’s slam rattled the house.

  Hux strode to the couch, scooping up Chase’s duffel bag and clothes from the floor. I stayed on my feet long enough to watch as he whipped the door open and threw Chase’s belongings into the cold.

  But then my knees gave out and I was sinking to the floor, curling into a ball. The same ball I’d been in for hours the day the stalker had fired a gun into my home in Nashville.

  There was shouting in the background. There was another slam of the door. But I stayed tight in my ball, fearing that when I looked up I wouldn’t be in Hux’s kitchen. My kitchen. I’d be back in Nashville with broken glass scattered over the floor. Or I’d be back in the farmhouse, knowing that my life and my friend’s life were about to end.

  “Ev.” Hux’s hand came to my shoulder, but I didn’t loosen the grip on my knees. “Babe, look at me.”

  I couldn’t look at him. Didn’t he know that?

  “He was watching us,” I whispered.

  “What?”

  “He was watching us.”

  A tremor raced through my bones, threatening to break me apart. My throat was closing. My head spinning.

  I wanted to cry and scream and disappear. But before I could decide which mental breakdown I was going to have, Hux scooped me into his arms and carried me upstairs.

  It was with the gentlest touch he laid me in bed. I stayed curled into my ball, my chin tucked into my knees, as I melted into the mattress. Then Hux was there, his arms wrapping around me as he cocooned his large body around mine.

  “He was watching us,” I whispered again.

  “You’re safe, Ev.” He buried his nose in my hair. “I got you.”

  Maybe today.

  But what happened when this charade was over? He had his daughter. Eventually the ruse would end.

  And I’d be back at the window, being the one who watched others. Because there was no one to watch out for me.

  Not really.

  Not even my husband.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Everly

  “Are you sure?” Hux asked.

  “Of course.” I widened my smile, hoping to disguise how badly I wanted to escape this house. “You two should have some time together. Alone.”

  Hux sighed, then picked up his truck keys from the counter, handing them over. “It’ll get easier.”

  “I know it will. But you guys should do something together today. It’s a Saturday. Take her out to lunch or a movie or something.” I didn’t care what they did as long as I had a break.

  I clutched the keys so tight the metal dug into my palm. But these keys were my ticket to freedom, and I wasn’t giving them back until I had at least five hours away from Savannah.

  Talk about a difficult child.

  Why had I thought we’d gel together like a happy family? Clearly, my head had been in the clouds.

  It had been two weeks since the incident with Chase. The asshole hadn’t shown his face around our house again, but maybe he was still in Calamity. Chase was as good as dead to Hux. If Hux knew of Chase’s whereabouts, he hadn’t mentioned it.

  Just like he hadn’t mentioned my panic attack either.

  That day, he’d held me tight until I’d fallen asleep. When I’d woken up, he’d been there with so much concern in his eyes it had only made it worse. He’d seen me break. He’d seen me crumple. Maybe we should have talked about it, but I’d asked him to let it go. He had.

  No discussion.

  Not a word.

  I’d channeled my energy into readying for Savannah’s first stay. Maybe I’d been burying my fears, pretending that everything would be fine. Everyone had their coping mechanisms and preparing this home for a sixteen-year-old had been mine.

  The couch where Chase had slept had been deep cleaned. Any surface that he may have touched had been thoroughly scoured and sanitized. Then I’d spent a day in Savannah’s bedroom, making sure it was fresh and bright with new white bedding and a vase of pink roses on her nightstand.

  When Hux had gone to pick her up from April’s, I’d been so excited. So ready. So hopeful.

  So idiotic.

  Savannah had taken one look at the flowers and muttered, “Ugh. I hate pink.”

  Said the girl wearing a magenta tee beneath her black hoodie.

  I’d ignored it and moved on, thinking she just needed a little time to settle in and loosen up.

  Seven days later, I wanted to pull my hair out and scream. Savannah hadn’t given an inch. She wasn’t as hostile to Hux—for her father, she gave him the occasional smile and actually made eye contact when she was speaking to him. Every glare, eye roll and muttered sarcastic comment was saved for me. The stepmother.

  How could she hate me so much? How could we go through what had happened in the farmhouse and come out enemies? My only crime against Savannah had been to marry her father.

  Oh, the irony. This marriage was part of the reason she was even here in his home.

  My artificial cheer was beginning to fade and before I s
napped, it was time to get some space.

  “See you tonight,” I told Hux, then made my break for the garage.

  “Ev?” He stopped me before I could disappear.

  “Yeah?”

  The worry etched on his handsome face cracked my heart. “You good?”

  “Great!” Too much force. I dropped my gaze, unable to look into those blue eyes and hold it together.

  Hux was slipping. He was letting emotion show. And that wasn’t who we were, was it?

  We didn’t worry for each other. We didn’t care or compliment. We didn’t depend on each other.

  We were fleeting. Temporary. Counting on Hux to help me pick up the pieces would only cause me strife down the line.

  “See you later.” I waved, then slipped into the garage and climbed in his truck. As soon as I pulled away, the weight of the week settled heavy on my shoulders.

  Had I been that difficult when I’d been a teenage girl? Maybe I should call my mother and apologize, just in case. Because if I’d been anything like Savannah, well . . . She was not making it easy. Thank goodness for school or I would have taken up day drinking by now. When I’d woken up this morning, I’d known I’d never make it through an entire Saturday.

  So I was going to work. Not that my job at the gallery was a real job but . . . details. I’d rather deal with Katie than Savannah.

  Katie’s attitude was a warm hug compared to Savannah’s, even though Katie hadn’t thawed in the slightest, no matter how many days I spent at the gallery.

  We avoided each other as much as two people could in the small space. I’d organized the storage room and deep cleaned the studio space on the second floor. Then I’d spent hours in Hux’s office developing a new inventory system to better track sales and assets. Katie might rule the showroom, but I was going to dominate the accounting portion of the business.

  Reese Huxley Art would follow Generally Accepted Accounting Principles to precision.

  That fact might actually make Mom and Dad proud.

  The drive to the gallery wasn’t long enough and when I pulled into the space beside Katie’s SUV, I flipped it off, then screwed on my fake smile to go inside.

  “Good morning,” I singsonged, mostly because it made her visibly cringe.

  “Morning,” she mumbled, her gaze glued to her computer screen.

  I made a move for Hux’s office, but then decided against it and walked into the showroom, crossing enemy lines.

  She’d rearranged some pieces this week, making space to highlight one of Hux’s newest paintings. It was a horse, one I’d seen him working on in his studio. He’d made the animal’s soul come to life on that canvas. The dark brown eyes were mesmerizing with little flecks of caramel. I wasn’t sure why, but whenever I looked at it, my heart squeezed. Like the animal was trying to send me a message.

  Be brave. Have courage. Don’t give up.

  “Do we have to sell this one?” I whispered.

  “What?” Katie asked.

  “Nothing.” I waved it off, wishing this horse could be mine and stay with me always. “The new layout looks nice.”

  She narrowed her eyes.

  Was a thank you so damn hard? What the hell was it with people? Why was everyone so sure I was going to ruin Hux’s life? Katie. Chase. Savannah. Couldn’t I just be married to the guy for two years, have a lot of sex, then move on with my life?

  Walk away. Don’t pick a fight. Just walk away.

  I walked away. “I’ll be in Hux’s office if you need anything.”

  “I won’t,” she murmured, just loud enough for me to hear.

  “You might.” I stopped walking. “You don’t take a lot of days off.” Katie was always here. Six days a week without fail. “Is there someone who helps in the summer when it’s busy?”

  “Hux.”

  “Besides Hux.”

  She squared her shoulders. “We don’t need other help.”

  Seriously, I was not a Katie fan. “But don’t you get tired of working nonstop?”

  “No. I helped Hux build this place from the ground up. It’s as much mine as it is his.”

  Uh, no it’s not.

  Her name wasn’t on the sign out front. Either she was trying to insinuate, again, that she was more important in Hux’s life than I was. Or she truly believed this place was hers. Not entirely a bad thing when it came to employees. Katie was nothing if not loyal to my husband.

  Without another word, I left her arena and disappeared to Hux’s office, closing the door and with it, shutting out the outside world. I settled behind his desk and splayed my hands on the clean wooden surface.

  It was beginning to feel like mine. My seat. My job. My pride. I’d spent a lot of hours here in the past few weeks. Maybe I couldn’t fault Katie for taking ownership in this place, not when I felt the same. She wasn’t the only one claiming the gallery as her something special. With every passing day, this place became more and more important in my life.

  It would be hard to walk away when the clock ran out on my marriage, but I wasn’t leaving empty-handed. I’d found something here.

  A talent. A calling. A career.

  I liked business management. I liked organizing.

  I liked . . . accounting.

  The realization hit me like a ton of bricks falling from the sky.

  “Noooo.” I dropped my head to the desk, banging it once. Twice. “Ouch.”

  I sat up straight, rubbing away the ache in my forehead, then pulled my phone from my purse and called Lucy.

  “I like accounting,” I said the moment she answered.

  Lucy laughed. “Cynthia? Is that you?”

  “Funny,” I deadpanned. “This is a nightmare.”

  “I take it that the gallery’s books are shaping up.”

  “I’m getting there,” I said. “I’ve emerged from the mountain of wadded-up receipts and sticky notes. My goal is to finish getting this year’s books cleaned up in the next week or two. Then start my audit of the past few years.”

  I shuddered, thinking of all that I’d find. Hux’s accountant prepared his taxes every year based on the numbers that Katie and Hux piecemealed together. I had zero confidence in those figures. I only hoped Hux hadn’t understated income so he wouldn’t be hit with a tax penalty should the IRS ever come knocking.

  “What are you doing?” I asked Lucy.

  “Oh, I was just playing around with a new song.” The strum of a guitar drifted through the phone.

  Not all that long ago, the two of us would have sat on our couch in Nashville, each with a guitar on our laps, and played songs for hours. Part of me longed for those days, when Lucy and I would sing whatever lyrics she’d dream up. Song writing had never been my strong suit, but she had a way of stringing words together with a melody that snared you from the first note.

  I missed those days.

  What I wouldn’t give for a rewind button on life, not to fix my mistakes, but to relive the moments I hadn’t appreciated enough.

  “Will you sing it for me?” I asked.

  “Um . . . are you sure?”

  “Of course. Just because I don’t sing much anymore—”

  “Or at all.”

  “Whatever.” I giggled. “Just because I’m not singing doesn’t mean I don’t love your music. I’ve missed it. I’ve missed hearing the early versions of your songs, the ones that were always just for me. I’ve missed being your guinea pig.”

  “I’ve missed that too.”

  We couldn’t go back to the Nashville days, but maybe we could find even better in Calamity. And when this marriage to Hux was over and I moved on to wherever it was I moved on to, Lucy and I could do this over the phone. Today seemed like the perfect chance to practice.

  I relaxed into the chair, closed my eyes and smiled. A real smile for the first time in a week. “Okay, I’m ready.”

  Lucy strummed a minor chord that brought goose bumps to my skin. Then she crooned a melancholy song about a woman overcoming heartbreak. Th
e lyrics, the melody and the harmony were almost painful to hear. Because this fictional woman in Lucy’s song didn’t feel quite so fictional.

  It was like Lucy had looked into my future and seen the woman I’d become after leaving Calamity.

  Because as often as I told myself that this thing with Hux was pretend, deep in my heart, I knew it was beginning to feel real. It had started in the courtroom two weeks ago. It had started the morning he’d saved me from Chase.

  He’d leaned on me for support.

  I’d curled into the safety of his arms.

  Damn it. Nothing good would come from me falling in love with my husband.

  So I was going to pretend that it wasn’t happening. That it hadn’t been happening.

  “Pretty song, Luce,” I said when she finished.

  “Is it too sad?”

  “No,” I promised. “It’s brutally beautiful.”

  “It’s one the album never would have let me do before.”

  Before the stalker and before we’d found out that her former producer had sold her out.

  Now Lucy was doing an album on her own terms with a new label. She’d record them in the studio she and Duke were having built at their house, and she’d forgo the hectic concert tour schedule to simply enjoy catching her own songs on the radio.

  Without a doubt, it would be her best album. If that song was anything to go by, this album was going to cement Lucy Ross as a country music powerhouse.

  “Sing it again.”

  And she did. She sang it along with a couple of others she’d been working on, and even though she was on one end of town and I was on the other, I hadn’t felt this close to my friend in months.

  It settled a fear in my heart, a fear I hadn’t acknowledged. I didn’t need to live my life alongside Lucy to keep her close. When I left here, she’d always be with me, even from afar.

  After our call, I dove into work, spending my morning tying sales information to my sold inventory logs. Hux would actually be able to see at a glance how many horses versus bison versus landscapes he sold in a given year.

  I spent the lunch hour wading through the bank account and credit card transactions to make sure all expenses had been recorded—they hadn’t been. Then I spent a couple of hours auditing recent sales to credits. Most were fine, but about one in ten sales had been fat-fingered and his income had been skewed.