and grabbed the phone off the kitchen wall, rapidly punching the buttons.
Deck answered on the third ring. “What?” The single word was a snarl.
“Well, that’s a heck of a way to greet your brother-in-law.”
“You’re interrupting us. What do you want?” Deck sounded distinctly disgruntled and Cal realized exactly what he’d interrupted. He grimaced. Was everybody in the world getting next to a warm body except for him?
“A woman.”
“Then go find one.” The receiver clicked off decisively on the other end.
Cal sighed. Lifting the phone again, he punched in Deck’s brother Marty’s telephone number. He hit the speakerphone as he ambled across the kitchen and yanked open the refrigerator door, surveying its contents. As his best buddy’s voice came on the other end of the line, he selected a soda.
“Lucky Stryke.”
“Hey, neighbor. Is your kid in bed?”
“Yeah. Thank God.” Marty’s answer sounded heartfelt and Cal grinned. He’d been around Marty’s daughter, Cheyenne, a number of times since his move back out here, and she was…unforgettable. A stunning little beauty who looked like her dead mother and acted—unfortunately—a lot like her deceased aunt Genie, who’d been a hell-raiser from the day she was born until the day she died young in the accident that was reason he’d left South Dakota all those years ago.
“What are you up to?” Marty’s voice called him back from the past.
He popped the top on his soda and leaned against the counter. “Where the heck do you go when you want to meet women out here?”
A low rumble of laughter vibrated through the connection. “A bar.”
“That’s not the kind of woman I want to meet,” Cal said.
“Oh, hell.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re starting to sound like me. You got marriage on your mind?”
“No, I do not have marriage on my mind.” He conveniently ignored the fact that he’d been thinking that very thing only hours ago. “I just need to get laid. And I’d prefer to do it with somebody I like and enjoy spending time with.”
Something moving in the corner of his vision made him whip his head around. Though he saw nothing, he’d have sworn he saw a shadow in the kitchen doorway just for an instant. He moved toward the door, but realized he couldn’t leave the room without picking up the handset of the phone. Shrugging, he turned his attention to what Marty was saying.
“…know what you mean. I’m meeting a girl at the city bar tomorrow night. She, uh, answered my ad.”
Cal laughed aloud. He’d heard about Marty’s other disastrous encounters that were a result of advertising in the personals for a wife. To his way of thinking, the guy was insane. “I might have to check this out. What time?”
“Eight. I figure if she’s willing to meet me in a bar, she can’t be a teetotaler who thinks I’ll go to hell if I drink a beer.”
“That’s logical. Eight, huh? You might see me.”
“Sounds good. You can rescue me if this date turns out to be a bust.” His oldest friend’s voice sounded hopeful.
Cal stifled a comment about the odds of that being pretty good. “It’s a deal.”
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