Page 82 of Hard Rain Coming
“Smells amazing,” Jack said, dropping a kiss on her cheek.
“I’ve had a lot of help.”
“I don’t remember Cal being particularly good in the kitchen,” Vivian replied with a wink.
“He’s not. But Rosie offered to help, and Martha’s here too.” She nodded toward a room to the left of the foyer. “Coats can be hung through there.”
Jack and Vivian hung up their coats in a mudroom that was bigger than her first apartment. Then they made their way to the back of the house into a space that would make anyone’s jaw drop open. It was floor-to-ceiling windows, beams of wood, creams, whites, and taupe. It boasted a bar area with gleaming quartz countertops, furniture that was functional and stylish, and a large fireplace. In the corner, a Christmas tree was decorated to the nines, with a few presents already underneath it.
“Wow, Cal, this is incredible,” she said as her brother walked over and gave her a hug. There were a bunch of folks gathered near the bar, and he followed her gaze. “Ollie from the band is up for the holiday and, uh?—”
“Is that Kip Harris?” She interrupted her brother, eyes on the tall man chatting with Ivy Wilkens. Cal looked surprised. “What? I follow baseball.”
“He might play baseball,” Jack said with a grin and a wink, “but that right there looks like a hockey butt.”
“Ya think?” Vivian asked with a laugh.
“Definitely. It’s so round and muscular.”
“What’s he doing here?” Genuinely curious, she missed the pained expression on Cal’s face. “Apparently, he and Ivy got drunk in Nashville, and uh, now they’re engaged.”
“No.” She dragged the one-syllable word out into at least three, and it was then she caught sight of Mike Paul sitting across the room. His expression was dark, and his gaze was like a laser beam tacked onto the couple. She knew what it was like to love from afar. To live half a life because the only person who could complete you wasn’t available.
“I think Mike Paul is in shock,” Taz Pullman said as he sidled up to them.
“Shell-shocked is more like.” Benton joined the conversation.
“Do they grow all the men in Montana in the image of Greek gods?” Jack elbowed her. “If so, I’m living in the wrong state.”
Cal pointed to the bar. “Help yourself. Dinner won’t be for an hour or so.” He leaned close to Vivian. “Dad and Martha are in the kitchen helping Rosie with some finishing touches. I thought you should know.”
“Thanks for the head’s-up,” she said, taking a step back. “We’re going to grab a drink.”
“Any news from Dallas?” Benton asked as they headed for the bar.
“No.” She frowned. “I don’t know if he’s still in the air or on his way home. He’s not answering his text messages.”
“I feel bad he had to make the trip when I should have.”
“Anything new from Daisy Mae?”
“I don’t want to talk about Daisy Mae.”
“Okay. Let’s get a drink.”
Vivian spent the next half an hour or so making her way around the room, reacquainting herself with some of Cal’s friends she hadn’t seen in years and chatting with her siblings. She made her way over to Mike Paul and offered him a beer.
“Thanks,” he said.
“It’s Thanksgiving. You should be social.”
Mike Paul looked up at her and shrugged. “I’m hungover. Not feeling it.”
“Hungover, huh?”
He scowled and glanced up at her. “What else would it be?”
Vivian considered her answer for a couple of seconds and decided honesty was the only way to go.