Page 25 of Backed By You (Montgomery Brothers of Montana #3)

Callie

“I can’t believe you said that,” Shea gasps, staring at her phone with rapt attention as the interview plays a second time. It’s been uploaded for all of thirty minutes and several entertainment news outlets have already picked up the story as if it were their own. “Jack looks pissed .”

Beau snorts from his spot on the sofa in our hotel room, watching with smug appreciation as Shea’s fashion intern helps me into my dress for a final fitting.

I stick my tongue out at him and he laughs.

“It just came out,” I explain, raising my arms as the intern—a serious-faced girl named Maya—works on pinning the final adjustments to the sides of the gown. “Jack was being so…”

“Handsy?” Shea supplies. “Presumptuous? His usual self?”

“All of the above.” I rotate slowly as directed. The dusty pink fabric lined with sequins catches the light and glitters around us. “Monica wasn’t on the approved question list with that one. Ellen nearly had a stroke.”

“Well, this article is calling it ‘the most authentic moment in press junket history,’ so there’s that,” Shea says, still scrolling. “Oh, and People wants an exclusive on your Montana romance —Ellen’s already fielding requests.”

I glance at Beau, trying to gauge his reaction. He seems unbothered, watching the proceedings with the same calm attentiveness he brings to everything. But there’s something in his eyes when they meet mine. Quiet pride, maybe?

“No exclusives,” I say firmly. “Our relationship isn’t a publicity stunt.”

“Smart,” Shea nods. “Keep them guessing. The mystery boyfriend angle will generate more buzz anyway.”

Beau raises a brow. “Mystery boyfriend?”

“That’s what they’re calling you,” Shea informs him with delight. “My current favorite is that you’re a rugged Montana rancher who tamed Hollywood’s most private director.”

I can’t help but laugh at Beau’s expression. So serious.

“I don’t ranch,” he points out dryly.

“Details.” Shea waves dismissively, a hint of glee in her voice at being able to tease Beau.

He gets riled up so easily. And she’s taking full advantage.

“The narrative is what matters. And this narrative is gold, especially compared to the tired ‘director-actor on-set romance’ they were trying to push with Jack.”

The intern finishes her pinning and steps back. “All done. If you can take it off carefully, I’ll have these minor alterations finished by tonight.”

“It’s perfect,” I say, admiring the dress in the full-length mirror. The color complements my hair and skin tone, and the cut is both elegant and comfortable—a rare combination in an evening gown.

My best friend beams at the sight of me. “Gorgeous.”

A knock at the door interrupts us. Beau is up and alert, walking to the door to check the peephole before I can even turn around.

“It’s your father,” he tells me.

My brow furrows. I haven’t talked to him since we landed on Sunday. It’s Tuesday.

Beau opens the door, and my father steps in, looking out of place and unfazed in his department-issued attire.

“Callie,” he says, his weathered face breaking into a smile when he sees me.

“Department needs me tomorrow for a task force meeting, so I wanted to wish you luck in person before the show.”

I carefully maneuver in my half-pinned dress to hug him. “I’m glad you stopped by.”

He holds me at arm’s length, taking in the dress with genuine admiration. “You look great, honey,” he says softly for only me to hear. “Just like your mother in that color.”

The comparison to my mom catches me off guard, a lump forming in my throat. She died in a car accident when I was an infant. And with few pictures and Dad rarely wanting to talk about her… This moment feels special. “Thanks, Dad.”

He clears his throat, the moment passing as quickly as it came. Typical Matthew Ryan. “Shea,” he acknowledges with a nod.

“Hey, Matt,” Shea replies with the easy familiarity of someone who knows his aloof demeanor is never personal.

Dad turns his attention to Beau, who’s been standing quietly near the door. “Montgomery,” he says, extending his hand. “Good to see you again.”

“Sir,” Beau replies, shaking his hand firmly.

“You looked after her yesterday at that interview thing?” Dad asks, his tone casual, but his eyes sharp.

“Yes, sir,” Beau says simply.

Dad nods, satisfied. “Mind if we have a chat downstairs?”

My stomach tightens instinctively. Dad doesn’t ‘chat’ with people. He interrogates them. “Dad, Beau doesn’t need the third degree—”

“It’s fine.” Beau gives me a reassuring nod.

Dad turns to me. “Won’t keep him long.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Be nice.”

“Always am,” he says with the innocent expression that never fooled me, even as a kid.

Maya clears her throat. “Miss Ryan, we should get you out of the dress before the pins shift.”

“Right,” I say, reluctantly turning away. “You two go ahead. But Dad—”

“I know, I know,” he says, heading for the door. “No threats, best behavior.”

“That’s not reassuring!” I call after them as the door closes.

Shea waits approximately two seconds before bursting into laughter. “Your face right now is priceless.”

“It’s not funny,” I grumble as Maya helps me carefully step out of the dress. My mind swims with what they could possibly need to talk about. Of course, the only thing that comes to mind is…me. “You know how he is.”

“Beau can handle himself,” Shea says confidently. “That man radiates ‘can handle himself’ energy.”

Once I’m back in a cozy white robe, Maya leaves with the dress, promising to return it by this evening.

As the door closes behind her, Shea plops onto the sofa beside me, tucking her feet beneath her.

“So,” she says, her expression turning serious.

“Now that we’re alone—what’s really going on with you two? ”

“What do you mean?”

“Come on, Cals. You’ve been vague about your relationship for months. Then boom! he’s your boyfriend on national television. That’s a big step for someone who’s been keeping her dating life under lock and key since college.”

I sigh, knowing she’s right. “We’ve been serious for the last three weeks. It just sort of…happened.”

“The best things usually do,” she says with a smile. “But are you happy? Because I’ve been watching you two and I’ve never seen you like this with anyone.”

“Like what?”

“Completely yourself,” she says simply. “No filters, no walls, no director-mode armor. You look at him like he’s your safe place.” Adding coyly, “Similar to how you look at me, actually.”

I laugh, but her observation hits closer to home than I expected. “He is,” I admit quietly.

“So it’s serious?” Shea asks, her eyes soft with understanding.

I nod, a little surprised at how easy the admission is. “Yeah. It is.”

“And the L-word?”

“We haven’t said it,” I confess. “But I think…it’s there.”

Shea squeals, bouncing in her seat. “I knew it! The way he looks at you when you’re not watching—that man is gone for you.”

“Really?” I can’t help the hopeful note in my voice. Does he? Could he really…love me already? It’s fast. Really fast. But it feels right. So damn right it’s hard to comprehend.

“Absolutely. And I have to say, as your best friend who’s seen you through some truly questionable choices—” She gives me a pointed look. “—I approve. One hundred percent.”

I smile, laughing with watery eyes. “You do?”

“He’s solid, Cal. Grounded. And he clearly adores you without trying to use your success as a stepping stone. Plus,” she adds with a grin, “he was ready to murder Jack yesterday for touching your knee of all things. That’s both terrifying and hot.”

I laugh, feeling a weight lift that I didn’t realize I was carrying. “I wasn’t sure if… I mean, this world is so different from his.”

“Maybe that’s exactly what you need,” Shea suggests. “Someone who sees past all this—” She gestures around the luxury hotel room. “—to the real you.”

The real me . The me that’s not sidelined by fear and paranoia. The me that loves movies and writing and directing. “I like her better, I think.”

“I like her, too,” Shea says, her expression turning slightly mischievous. “Also, the sex must be incredible , because you’re practically glowing.”

“Shea!”

“What? I’m simply saying what we’re all thinking. That man looks like he knows what he’s doing.”

My cheeks heat. “I’m not discussing this with you…right now.” She knows I tell her everything, but not when Beau or my dad could walk in at any moment.

“Your blush tells me everything I need to know,” she says triumphantly. Then, more seriously, “I’m happy for you, Cals. Really.”

“Thanks,” I say, feeling emotional. “Your opinion means a lot to me.”

“I know,” she says with exaggerated confidence that makes me laugh. “Now, tell me honestly, what do they feed these men out there? Are they all built like that ?”

As I fill her in on what I’ve seen ‘men-wise’ in Whitetail, I find myself wondering what’s going on downstairs. Strangely, I’m not worried. Something tells me that whatever interrogation tactics my father is employing, Beau can hold his own.

I hope.