Chapter Six #2
Voices grew more distinct as they stepped into the open living area, and Holly frowned. Was that—
He’d brought her. He’d actually brought her here, tonight, when this had always been neutral territory, like Switzerland.
He’d brought her, after Holly had deliberately not included Colt, after she’d stumbled through an awkward I-have-plans about watching the game at David and Lorraine’s and left him feeling unwelcome.
He didn’t say it, but Holly knew it. The awful guilt had dogged her all day, not for doing something separate from him because couples needed space, but because he had to connect not being invited tonight to him and Tick.
Anger spiked through her. This was so like Scott, selfish jackass.
She pulled up her best, brightest smile because she meant neither Scott nor Andrea would know how angry and hurt she was. “Hey, y’all.”
“Hello, Holly, Lorraine.” Lips set in a polite smile, Andrea swept a weighted glance over them, judging Holly’s spangled game day sweater the same way she assessed Lorraine’s home decor. A hard breath seized in Holly’s throat. She was so . . .
Ugh.
None of the words that came to mind were nice.
She’d half expected that judgment from Caitlin because, good Lord, the woman came from real money and had apparently gone to the same European finishing school that polished princesses.
Holly had prepared herself to fight to the death for Tick or her friends if Caitlin deemed him or them not good enough.
Instead she’d found herself swamped with sympathy that weekend at the lake and then again at the beach in Texas because Caitlin had been obviously terrified in their presence.
And she glowed in Tick’s, like he was the sun at the center of her universe and he lit everything up, which Holly knew was cliched as all get out but how else to describe the way the other woman looked at him?
She’d turned out to be genuine and the best thing for him.
Holly liked her, even if Caitlin remained reticent in her presence.
That was just her, and Holly hoped they’d become friends at some point.
Andrea was a different story.
Geared for battle, Holly picked up the bottle of sparkling water she’d abandoned to go love on Ethan. “I didn’t realize football was your thing.”
“It’s not.” Andrea slid a wry, pointed look at Scott, and here was another contrast. Caitlin often fixed Tick with a look like that, full of affection, and Andrea’s was just . . . condescending. “But if I want to see him tonight, apparently that involves football and this gathering.”
This gathering. Huh. Going to the dentist for a root canal sounded more palatable.
Next to Holly, tension moved through Lorraine’s body like a pre-earthquake tremor. Oh, help them, Lord, if they both disliked her. Holly needed Lorraine to keep her in check.
The back door opening saved them, Del ushering Barb in ahead of him, phone pressed to his ear, a rare gleeful grin splitting his face. “Wait, what?”
He listened, biting his bottom lip to keep back a laugh that gleamed in his Calvert-dark eyes. Setting a slow-cooker crock on the counter, Barb slanted an amused look over her shoulder at him before hugging Holly and Lorraine.
“Put your headphones in . . . why not?” Laughter strangled Del’s voice as he propped on the counter next to David and fist-bumped him and the other men in greeting.
He nodded at Andrea, a flare of surprise in his eyes.
Barb smiled at her, and Andrea slid a tight smile over the new arrivals.
“Listen, we just walked in, so let me go. Yeah, I’ll text you updates. ”
His amusement transformed into an even rarer guffaw as he killed the call, wiping at his damp eyes. Andrea half-grimaced while the others grinned. Del was so quiet normally that a person just had to enjoy the moments when he let loose. And he had a great laugh.
David glanced sideways at him, teeth flashing in a wide smile. “That was my boy, right?”
“Yeah.” Del caught his breath and blew it out, face lit with affectionate joy. “I don’t know what he did or why she’s put out with him, but they own one television and she’s fussing about how loud he plays the game, wants him to watch it on his phone. He’s dying, and that’s funny as hell.”
“Don’t be mean.” Barb shook out corn chips in a bowl next to the crock.
“Don’t be mean?” Del snorted. “It’s obvious you’re an only child, honey. She’s not usually unreasonable or irritable with him, but he’s been fussing about that for days, so he must have done something big.”
A significant look bounced among them, all of them except Andrea in on Caitlin’s pregnancy and her resulting hormonal reactions. Well. Obviously, Tick hadn’t told his brothers yet.
Holly sighed. “She’s not.”
“What’s that look?” Del’s brows dipped down, head tilted, so like Colt in his expression that Holly smiled despite herself. The Calvert boys were all so much alike, except maybe Chuck who was just . . . Chuck.
Barb glanced between Holly and Lorraine, her smile widening, blue eyes sparkling with intrigue. “Is she pregnant?”
Mackey held up a hand. “We can’t discuss that.”
Which was as good as a yes, and they all knew it.
“Oh.” Barb covered her mouth with a hand, her happy gaze darting to Del’s face. “Oh, that’s wonderful.”
“Yeah, that’s great.” Del’s grin this time was pure he’s-a-dead-man enjoyment. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Guess we’ll find out when he tells Mama.”
“Guess you will.” Lorraine mirrored his pose, but tempered her sardonic tone with a smile. “Because none of us are going to slip up and tell your mama before he does.”
“I can’t tell her anything because I don’t know anything.”
Holly grinned. “There you go.”
“I’m a little lost.” Andrea moved to the counter and picked up a red plastic cup, studying the beverage options. Once more, that small grimace crossed her face, and Holly stifled an urge to gut her. “We’re talking about your friend Lamar? His wife is pregnant.”
Mackey shrugged. “We can’t discuss that.”
She gave him an odd look, then glanced at Del and the rest of them. “I don’t understand all the secrecy. Why doesn’t he simply tell his mother?”
Lorraine stiffened. “Lots of people wait until the second trimester.”
The smile Andrea bestowed on her held a hint of smugness. “But you all know.”
Because they were close — not that Holly was pointing that out. She would, however, move this unsettling interlude forward. “Barb, what is that? It smells fantastic.”
“Hissyfit dip.” To her credit, Barb never missed a beat. She eased down the counter, eying the food options. “This looks great. David, are you going to say a blessing so we can eat?”
“I am.” With a grateful expression, David levered off the counter and reached for Lorraine’s hand.
Head bent and eyes closed, Holly let the familiarity of his deep voice settle her.
Having Andrea here, navigating this stung, but she had to get used to it.
Scott planned to marry her after all. Scott, who’d sworn he’d never marry, never be anyone’s father.
Liar.
With the pregame show droning from the living room, they prepared plates and gathered around the L-shaped bar-height island to eat. Holly tried to relax, letting the conversation flow around her, tuning most of it out.
“. . . the display is here another couple of weeks.” Andrea touched Scott’s hand. “I hear it’s amazing. We should go.”
He made a noncommittal noise in his throat, sliding an uncomfortable glance in Holly’s direction, and she pulled her attention from wondering why the sausage concoction was named hissyfit dip. What had she missed?
“I saw the segment on those photographs on WALB.” Barb smiled at Holly across the island. “Holly, I immediately thought of you, that you’d love to see them.”
“They’re gorgeous in person.” Finally catching on to the topic, Holly scooped up salsa with a tortilla chip. “We went last night.”
“We?” David asked before Lorraine’s elbow made gentle contact with his ribs.
“Mmm, me and Colt.” She might as well jump in — she already had plans for the two of them and that meant melding her dating life with her friendships. Besides, Scott had brought his dating life here tonight, so why not?
Across the island, next to Andrea, Scott stilled, one of Lorraine’s ham-and-Swiss sliders halfway to his mouth. “Colt Calvert?”
She got the slight hush over the table — Andrea didn’t, that confused watchfulness tightening her pretty features. Holding Scott’s sharp blue gaze, Holly lifted her chin. “Yes.”
He dropped the slider on his plate, pressing his steepled fingers to his lips. Andrea glanced between the two of them, her mouth a tight line. Good for her, because Holly didn’t like his reaction anymore than Andrea did.
“Y’all have a good time?” Del’s quiet voice sliced through the silence, and Holly nodded, relaxing into a sigh and gracing him with a grateful smile for the acceptance.
“We did.” Feeling more natural, she lifted her sparkling water for a sip. “The lighting on those photo plates is stunning.”
“Bet you had a pool hall chili dog for supper.” A slight grin curved Del’s mouth.
“We did.” A quiet laugh released more of her tension. “How did you know?”
“Because they all learned that from Gene.” Barb’s shoulder moved against Del’s arm, so she probably was patting his leg.
“We hit the Burg for a cookie and coffee after the exhibit.” Nothing could induce her to talk about that conversation in between, crying on him about Scott. His reaction, though . . . the whole night had been amazing because he was an amazing person.
A pretty amazing man.
“Sounds wonderful.” Andrea’s lips stretched into a taut smile. She touched Scott’s wrist, and he finally shifted his attention from Holly’s face. “We definitely should go.”
“Yeah.” His Adam’s apple bobbed with a hard swallow, and he cleared his throat. “We should.”
Mackey twisted his wrist to check his watch. “Y’all, we have about fifteen minutes til kickoff.”