Chapter 5
Chapter Five
“Shit,” Decker muttered.
“That’s probably the storm cell that was over Calamity. It’s coming this way.” She peered at the sky. “And these roads wash out.”
He stuck the pie back in the package and handed her a small bag of peanut butter pretzels. “Here. At least you’ll get some protein.” He checked the weather app on his phone. A red storm band crossed western Wyoming toward the Utah State line.
Sixty mph wind gusts and heavy rainfall. Flash flooding possible in mountain passes.
“It doesn’t look good.” They were heading right into it. “It shows thunderstorms for the next couple of hours.”
“That doesn’t really mean anything, though. It’s the mountains in July. Storms come and go. We’re going to be fine.” Her phone vibrated in the cupholder, and Willa jolted. “Can you see who that’s from?”
He didn’t need a passcode to see the preview box. “It’s your mom.”
“This is the one I’ve been waiting for. Hang on.” Quickly checking her rearview mirror, she eased over to the exit lane. “I’ve got to read it.” Once off the highway, she pulled onto the dirt and put the car in Park.
It was tough to watch her read the message. That easy-going, sharp-tongued, confident woman shrank, and it made him want to yank the phone out of her hand and remind her never to give her power to anyone else.
After staring at the phone for several moments, she shot off a text, dropped the phone back into its place, and let out a shuddery breath. “Well, it’s done.”
“Bad news?”
“No, it’s good. The outcome I wanted.” Strength seemed to roll back into her, but this time, it was forced. Her chin tilted, and her spine straightened as she got back onto the highway.
She wasn’t talking, and he needed to know. “You’re lead on the case?”
“Yes. So, that’s all that matters.”
She wasn’t back to her normal self. What else was going on? “That’s a good thing, right?”
“Of course. Yes.”
“Then…what’s going on?”
“With my mom, there’s always something…lurking. I don’t know how to explain it. Something happened this morning, and she could easily have punished me for it, but she didn’t, so I’m wondering when the other shoe’s going to drop.”
“I don’t understand. Punish you for what?”
She didn’t answer. Clearly, she was preoccupied because they rode in silence.
She didn’t even turn the radio on or reach for a pretzel.
He didn’t like seeing her upset, so he leaned back—swallowing the cry of pain that lodged in his throat from inadvertently twisting his ankle—and sorted through the other bags.
She seemed to favor sugary treats, so he found a two-pack of frosted chocolate cakes and tore it open, silently handing her one.
She didn’t even hesitate, just grabbed it and took a bite. She flashed him a big grin. “Mm.”
He chuckled at how ridiculous she looked. “You have chocolate on your teeth.”
She took an even bigger bite. But then, she handed the treat back to him. “Why don’t these taste as good as they used to?”
“Because you were ten when you ate them? And it was before you started eating pastries from the best bakeries in New York City.”
“There’s a weird chemical taste.” She shook her head. “Blech. What else do I have?”
He sorted through boxes of crackers, bags of chips, and some weird marshmallow thing. “Didn’t you buy any normal food?”
“I bought road trip food, slugger. Try to enjoy it.”
“I play football. Not baseball.” He couldn’t find one edible thing other than his salad and protein bar. “You didn’t grab a sandwich? A yogurt—any actual food?”
“I wasn’t thinking about me. I was thinking about you.” When she tapped the bag, a warm smile softened her features. “Besides, that’s all the stuff my dad and I used to eat. Every summer, we’d do the national parks. Yellowstone, Glacier, Yosemite. It was so much fun.”
“When was the last time you did that?”
“Had to be the summer before high school. Because after that, I spent them with my mom.”
“When did they divorce?”
“When I was really young. They were high school sweethearts. She wanted more than small-town life, and he didn’t, so he stayed, and she left.”
“But you stayed in Calamity?” That seemed odd. “You didn’t move with her?”
“She had me in her freshman year at Columbia. I guess it made more sense to keep me in Calamity with my dad and grandparents. After that, she went to law school, got on the partner track… It was just never the right time for me to live with her. I’d have been raised by nannies.”
“What happened in the summers? Did she take time off to be with you?”
When those beautiful lips tugged down, he regretted asking the question. This topic didn’t make her happy. “No. Back then, she was just starting her own firm. She didn’t have any free time. I spent weekends at the beach house in the Hamptons, and during the week, I was in the city.”
“With a nanny?” He watched her carefully.
“Yeah.”
Dammit. He didn’t like the sadness in her tone, and he didn’t understand why her mom would have her come out if she had no time for her daughter. “I guess it made sense to stay with your dad, then.”
“It did. I had the best childhood, but Calamity was never going to be enough for me.”
“Was it tough to grow up without a mom?”
“It was horrible.” Awareness hit her features, and her gaze cut over to him. “You didn’t have one either, right?”
“Right.”
“So, you know exactly what it’s like.”
Raindrops splattered on the windshield, and the sky darkened. Decker checked the weather app again. “The cell’s sitting right over the valley.”
He texted the family chat.
Decker: What’s the weather like there? We’re heading into a major storm over Star Valley.
Wyatt: Windy. But sunlight’s breaking through the clouds.
Boone: Floor it! Get on the other side of it.
Ava: Hey, hey. No need to take unnecessary risks. It’s just dinner. No matter what, we’ll see you tomorrow at the wedding. That’s what counts.
Decker: When has a little interception stopped me?
Boone: Remember that one time?
Wyatt: I do.
Jude: Got it on film. Hang on.
Decker: Don’t you guys have to shave or something? Put on pants?
Wyatt: Nah, this is more fun.
Boone: Fourth quarter, two-minute drill. You throw a pick, then just stand there like you’re buffering while the guy runs it back.
Decker: Fuck off.
After he set the phone down, he hauled a few bags onto his lap and dug around until he found nuts and raisins. “Here.” He opened the bag and handed it over. “Eat these.”
“That’s for you. I’ll just take the fig bars. They’re healthy, right?” She tried for a teasing tone, but her smile was tight.
What could he do to make her happy? “Take it.” He gave the bag a small shake. “You need something real.”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.” He recognized the signs. “You’re running on adrenaline.”
That got her attention. She took the bag.
“You’ve been keyed up since you read that message. That kind of stress burns through you fast. Sugar only makes it worse. Protein slows the crash and keeps your head clear.”
“Fine, Dr. McKenna.” Instead of grabbing a handful like a normal person, she carefully chose one raisin and a cashew.
He watched her for a moment. After chewing and swallowing, she searched in the bag until she matched a dried cranberry with an almond. “Are you serious? At this rate, it’ll take you six years to get through that bag.”
“Excuse me if I like to taste my food. If I eat a mouthful, I won’t be able to distinguish between the cranberries, raisins, and the different nuts.”
“You make things more complicated than they need to be.”
Her tongue peeked out as she put the nut in her mouth. “Food is way more than fuel for me.”
“Let me guess. You and your dad ate trail mix on your road trips.”
“Why, yes, we did. Big ole bags of it.” She grinned. “We made it ourselves.”
There she is. Relaxed, happy. He’d keep up the conversation. “Tents or hotels?”
“We camped in the parks. It was so much fun. My dad would make a fire and cook us eggs and bacon for breakfast. We’d make sandwiches for our hikes. You know what I liked best about the parks?”
“I’m guessing the animals?” Because who didn’t go to the parks to see them?
“Yep.”
“Even though we have them in our backyards?” Calamity wasn’t near the wilderness. It was in it.
“Yeah, but I grew up in town. Occasionally, we’d get a bear in our dumpster, and of course, Old Gus would come clopping in when it got cold, but this was different. This was their habitat.”
Old Gus. He’d forgotten about the fifteen-hundred-pound moose who wandered through town lured by salt and the Christmas decorations that smelled like food.
He’d been away from home for a long time. As had Willa. “Funny how we had similar experiences. We both grew up in Calamity and then left for the big city. Never came back. You miss it at all?”
“Small-town life?” She shook her head. “It’s not for me. As my mom used to say, ‘My ambition’s too big for a small town.’”
“Wait, Calamity has billionaires and celebrities. Lorelei Calloway lives there. Cassian Ellis—”
“Decker McKenna.”
His cheeks went hot, and he looked away. He didn’t compare himself to people like that. He wasn’t a movie star or a flashy player. He took his sport seriously.
“Oh, look at that.” She reached over, cupped his chin, and forced him to look at her. “You’re blushing. That’s so cute.”
Her fingers were warm against his jaw, and for a second, he forgot what she’d been saying.
For a moment, the world shut down, and he was nothing more than the rush of blood through his veins.
Her hazel eyes were bright and full of a bone-deep happiness.
Her cheeks were pink, her mouth soft and sexy, and when their gazes locked, an explosion went off in his chest.
The car rumbled over a lane departure strip, and she jerked her attention back to the road.
“Well, I’m not a rock star or a quarterback. I’m an attorney, and the last thing I want is to do family law in Calamity. I want a big life. And that’s never going to happen there.”