“Because the left rear tire is almost flat.”
He sighed. “I suppose you want me to fix that too?”
“You or someone else. I can’t go to the store without a car, and if I don’t get to the store, no one eats,” she said sweetly.
“Good point.” He swigged his beer. “Stu will be around tonight so we’ll get it handled.”
“Thank you.”
“Leave the keys on the hook when you’re done. I’m taking my car to work tomorrow instead of riding with Dad.”
Carolyn sensed he wanted her to ask why, but Stuart wandered in. “I hope there’s a good game on TV tonight. I’m beat.”
“We gotta fix the tire on Mom’s car first,” Thomas said.
Stuart groaned.
“Supper is ready and on the counter. And somebody please remember to put away the leftovers.” If there were any.
“Where are you goin’?” Stuart asked with suspicion that equaled Thomas’s. “You’ve been gone a lot lately.”
“As long as I feed you, wash your clothes and pick up after you, why does it matter?”
He patted her on the shoulder. “Have fun.”
She never fixed herself up to go to her friend’s house and doing so would cement her brothers’ suspicions. So she shoved her makeup and change of clothing into the bottom of her big purse. Butterflies flapped in her belly, making it impossible to eat. As casually as possible, she strolled out of the sun porch toward the front door.
“Where do you think you’re goin’?” her father asked, or rather, more like he shouted as an accusation.
“To Beverly’s.”
Lying about meeting a man? Next you’ll be sneaking out of the house to meet him.
If she had to. She wanted to be with him. She’d do anything to see him again. Luckily, after talking to Beverly today, she’d agreed to cover for Carolyn—even as she warned her to watch her step with the notorious Carson McKay.
Her father said, “I don’t think you need to be out tearing around on a Monday night.”
Carolyn slowly turned around. “What will I do if I stay here? I’ve already cooked, cleaned, done the laundry and looked after Mom.”
“You don’t need to get smart with me, young lady.”
“I’m not.” She started toward the door again.
“Be home by ten. Not a minute later.”
He’d be snoring away in his room by nine-thirty and wouldn’t know what time she rolled in anyway—but the smartest thing to do would be to smile and nod her head.
But that rankled. She was an adult. Her brothers didn’t have a curfew.
“Carolyn,” her father said sharply. “Did you hear me?”
She started to retort but Thomas jumped in. “Geez, Dad, I don’t think you have to worry about Carolyn. Now if it was me…?” He laughed. “I’d most likely roll in just as we were hopping in the car to go to work.”
Thank you, Thomas.
It was hard to meander out the door when she wanted to run. When the wheels hit the pavement she let out a loud whoop—sweet freedom!—turned up the radio and rolled down the windows.
The heat of the day lingered even as twilight approached.
She pulled into a roadside rest area and dug her clothes from the bottom of her purse. Making sure the coast was clear, she switched her short-sleeved floral blouse for a sleeveless black western shirt with pink piping on the collar and placket, leaving the top two buttons undone. She ditched the drab gray skirt and slid a tight black knit skirt up her thighs and over her hips. She wished she could’ve stashed a pair of pink kitten heels in her bag, but she was stuck with the white canvas shoes she’d worn all day.
Her hair was a wild tangle after having the windows down in the car, but it’d look messier yet when Carson got a hold of it. She’d nearly screamed in shock yesterday after catching sight of herself in the mirror following their picnic. She’d scraped her hair into a ponytail, praying her brothers and father wouldn’t notice her hairstyle change in the hours between when she left for church and when she’d returned home.
They’d been glued to some sporting event on TV and she’d breezed by them, no problem.
Lying and sneaking around didn’t sit well with her. She’d happily introduce Carson to her family, if it weren’t for the fact their families had bad blood. She’d try to remember to ask Carson specifics about it tonight.
Sure. It’s a little hard to talk when his tongue is buried in your mouth, isn’t it?
Yes. But good Lord could the man kiss. She could’ve happily kept her lips plastered to his all afternoon. And when he’d removed her stockings, his callused fingertips were a reminder that a man was touching her. A man who knew exactly how to elicit that shivery response from a woman.
Part of her wondered how much farther they might’ve gone if a car hadn’t interrupted.
Because you would’ve eagerly shed your clothes and given your virginity to the smoldering cowboy right there on that blanket.
At the time she’d been too annoyed at the interruption to consider how it might’ve looked when Carson had swept her into his arms and carried her back to the truck, without stockings, or shoes, her hair a wreck, her mouth red from their intense kisses.
Her stomach flipped when she heard the rumble of his truck enter the parking area. She grabbed her things, expecting he’d want her to hop in when he pulled up.
But Carson threw the engine in park and jumped out, skirting the tailgate, making a beeline for her. He curled his hand behind her neck and yanked her against his body. His hat shadowed her face and then his mouth was on hers. Kissing her like it’d been weeks since he’d seen her, not just a single day.
She dropped her bag to the ground and wrapped herself around him, letting his heat and urgency consume her.
Just when she thought he’d break the seal of their mouths, he changed the angle and then tone of the kiss. Kissing her with such sweetness she ached. So many sides to this gruff cowboy. And he seemed determined to show her every one.
Lucky me.
Carolyn kept her eyes closed when his mouth finally migrated to her ear.
“I missed you, sugar.”
That deep voice shot tingles down her arm, her spine, her neck. “The kiss proved that you missed me.” She turned her head and kissed his jaw. “But it’s nice to hear.”
“Same goes.”
She inhaled the soapy scent of his shaving cream and rubbed her lips across his jawbone. “I missed you too.”