Page 5 of Backed By You (Montgomery Brothers of Montana #3)

Beau

I land three heavy knocks on Callie’s front door and wait.

“Coming,” she calls just before the chain lock slides and the deadbolt clicks . The door swings inward to reveal her clad in what I can only describe as women’s torture apparel —and by all means, is the torture directed solely on me .

This woman and her damnable silken sleep sets.

“Good morning,” she beams, far more chipper than yesterday’s early wakeup call.

“Morning,” I grunt as she waves me inside, having to shoo Hulk from his firm stance by the door to allow me in. He follows me to the kitchen, far calmer today versus our first encounter.

“Sorry for the mess,” Callie says, rushing ahead as my gaze scans the space.

I didn’t get to look around much the other day, given the circumstances, but the place is much smaller than I remember. No wonder Ma said this cabin doesn’t get booked as often.

The mess she hurries over to are stacks of papers cluttered across the dining table. An open laptop, an empty coffee mug, and a half-eaten omelet are among the piles of what I’m assuming is…work? What does she do exactly?

Not that I care, of course.

I push aside my curiosity and turn my attention toward the stove. The top is still warm from her breakfast and I opt to start with turning on the preheat for the oven to see what happens, if anything.

“It doesn’t get to temp,” her soft tone announces behind me. I spare a glance over my shoulder as she perches on one of the dining chairs, her slender ankles crossed and tucked beneath her as she closes her computer. “It’ll warm up, but nothing over two hundred degrees.”

With that new bit of information, I diagnose the problem right away—the heating elements have gone bad. I turn off the oven and tug it away from the wall, searching for the model number to price out replacements.

“Do I need a new one?”

My brow furrows when I glance over my shoulder again to find her standing behind me.

She peers around me as I use my phone to take a picture of the metal plate on the back of the stove.

The pebbled silk fabric of her top draws my attention, and I’m momentarily mesmerized by the perfect outline of her hardened nipples.

I straighten. “No,” I say far too quickly with a shove of my phone into my pocket.

Her expressive eyes widen, taking on a sort of…sultry plea I’m not at all prepared for.

“Well, I mean, it would be kind of nice to get some updated appliances in here,” she says sweetly, batting her lashes at me.

My gaze narrows. “It’s a bad heating element. Easily replaceable.”

At my tone, she pouts. “Okay, but… What if we split the cost?”

“Of what?”

“A new stove.” She gestures to the current one beside me. “That thing is like a hundred years old. And, yeah, the stovetop still works, but it’s…ugly.”

I press my thigh against the front of the ‘ugly’ oven door and give it a hard shove, forcing it back into place. “If you think using your feminine wiles are going to get you a new stove, you’re barking up the wrong tree,” I state, pivoting on my heel and heading for the door.

“My feminine wiles ?” she squawks, following closely. “What are you, ninety? All I want is a new stove. Preferably stainless steel to match the microwave and fridge.”

“I’ll be back in an hour with replacement parts,” I deadpan, ignoring her request.

“But I wa—”

The door slams shut behind me, cutting her off.

I smirk.

I get back to the cabin around 1100 hours with no parts in hand. After three hardware stores across two counties told me they no longer carry elements for the year I need, I was forced to order them online. Not a big deal, I suppose, but I hate leaving a project incomplete.

Or admitting my tenant may need a new stove in the near future…

Rhett’s waiting for me when I pulled my truck into the extended driveway. I texted him the specs for the new cabin earlier today and told him to put my lumber order in sooner rather than later.

Unless there was an issue with my numbers, there’s no reason he should be here.

He stands at the base of Callie’s overly floral porch, chatting with her. I frown at my brother’s wide grin as Callie throws her head back laughing at whatever he said that was funny enough to get a reaction like that out of her.

I kill the engine and get out of the truck, heading their way.

“Hey, man,” my brother says, smiling like a moron. “How did the parts run go? Callie was just telling me you figured out what’s wrong with the oven.”

“He did.” She crosses her arms, eyeing me proudly. “You’re looking a little empty-handed there, Montgomery. Trouble finding the ancient elements?”

Her sassy tone hits me square in the chest, and I fight hard not to give in to her obvious goading.

At least she isn’t standing out here with my brother in her fucking pajamas.

She’s changed into a pair of black fitted shorts, a loose white T-shirt, sneakers, and a light grey sweater tied around her waist. She smiles from under the rim of her teal baseball cap.

Rhett’s chuckles die in his throat once he takes in the clear annoyance on my face.

“The replacement parts will be here in a few weeks,” I tell her, then look to my brother. “Did you need something?”

Rhett scratches the back of his neck. “Can’t a guy check in on his brother once in a while?”

I grunt. No .

Callie picks up the backpack sitting on her swing. “He really is a ball of sunshine, isn’t he?” she comments, tugging the straps over her shoulders.

My brother chuckles awkwardly, glancing between the two of us.

“Where are you going?” I ask, hating how accusatory I sound. What the hell do I care where she’s going at eleven o’clock on a Sunday?

“On a hike,” she says, Hulk at her side as she descends the few porch steps.

I stare at her choice of footwear. Fucking tennis shoes .

For a hike on some of the steeper trails around here, that could be seen as a deadly mistake.

“You should be wearing proper hiking boots,” I tell her sternly.

“They’re taller to help support your ankles.

You’ll twist yourself up in those things. ”

She pauses, raising a single delicate brow. “Now you’re going to tell me what I should and shouldn’t wear?” She scoffs. “You’re unbelievable. Is it that difficult for you to mind your own business?”

I scowl. “I’m trying to help you.”

“Yeah, right.” She rolls her eyes, walking past me as she waves to my brother, adding, “Good luck with Mr. Sunshine.”

“Nice chatting with you,” Rhett calls.

I watch her go, feeling more frustrated than I have in years. She claims I can’t mind my own business, but why the hell can’t she listen to the sound advice I’m trying to give her? She may be proving to be a pain in my ass, but that doesn’t mean I want to see her get hurt.

“You two seem…friendly,” Rhett says, breaking into my thoughts with that knowing tone of his. The same one he’s used since we were kids. He’s always had this way of reading people when they don’t want to be read.

I face him. “What do you need, Rhett?”

He holds his hands up in surrender. “Just wanted to let you know your lumber order is in. Should be delivered by Wednesday.” He leans against the porch railing and studies me with that irritating smirk. “So, you wanna tell me what that was all about?”

“What do you mean?” I walk past him toward the pile of stakes I set out this morning to mark the water lines. I need to shift my focus before I risk a glance in the direction Callie disappeared to in front of my nosey brother.

“That.” He gestures vaguely to my tenant’s cabin. “You practically growled over her shoes. Since when do you care what people wear hiking?”

“I don’t.” My tone comes out sharper than I intended.

Thankfully, instead of giving me shit, he chuckles. “Right. That’s why you were glaring at her like she stole one of your beloved power bars.”

I ignore his obvious prying and pick up the stakes, setting them where I want them.

“So, how is it going out here, really? I mean, I know you only just got in a few days ago, but… You’ve been pretty quiet lately.”

I’ve always been quiet. “Fine. Busy.”

An amicable silence falls between us. Out of all my siblings, Rhett’s been the easiest to talk to. Not that I’m choosing to talk to him right now.

Rhett clears his throat, never one to leave silence unfilled. “So, speaking of projects… You free next weekend?”

I glance over my shoulder, eyeing him suspiciously. “Why?”

“Glad you asked.” He grins. “Since Butch and Duke decided to do this double wedding thing—me, being the genius brother I am, thought: Hey, let’s hit this double-thing over the head and do a bachelor party for the two of them.”

I stare at him.

“It’ll be great.”

Doesn’t sound great to me.

“Next Saturday at Tavern Nine. Beer, poker, the whole brother bonding experience. Dad’s stopping by, Uncle Jim, some young guns from Butch’s company.” He chuckles. “Should be a riot.”

Should be a nightmare is more like it, but there isn’t much I can do to get out of this one. “I’ll be there,” I say begrudgingly.

“You better be,” he says. “I’d hate to have to show up here and tear you away from…” He gestures vaguely at Callie’s cabin, then at me. “Whatever this is.”

My brow furrows.

At my glare, he adds, “Just saying what I see, bro.”

“Don’t bother,” I deadpan, already hating whatever the hell nonsense he’s mentally brewing over the single encounter he witnessed between Callie and me.

He laughs, waving me off as he strides to his truck. “I’ll see you later at Ma’s for dinner.” He starts the engine. Rolling down the window, he shouts, “And Beau? Maybe ease up on the shoe policing. Most women don’t take kindly to that kind of mountain man safety flirting.”

I flip him off, which just makes him laugh harder as he backs out of the driveway.

As his truck disappears down the road, I find myself glancing toward the trail where Callie vanished earlier. Tennis shoes . I shake my head to clear her from my thoughts and get to work.

The next morning, however, she’s gone.