“That works for me. Are you hungry? The truck stop is a dive, but the food is good and I doubt you’ll run into anyone you know.”
She cocked her head. “The truck stop is fine. But I’ll remind you that you’re the local, not me, if you’re concerned about anyone you know seeing us together.”
“I could give a damn who sees us together, Caro.”
“One of these days very soon, McKay, I’ll expect you to prove that.”
He stole one quick kiss. “And I’ll be happy to.” He opened the passenger door for her and helped her inside. The sleeve of her sweater snagged on a wire sticking out of the seat. “Hang on a second. You’re caught.” Carson gently pulled the metal free and smoothed the section of yarn back in place. He said, “All fixed,” but kept running his fingertips over the back of her arm.
“Carson?”
His glanced up at her. “Did you buy this sweater because it’s the exact shade of your beautiful eyes? Or because it’s as soft as your skin?”
Something dark glittered in her eyes before she grabbed onto his chin. “Give me a taste of that silver tongue.” She fit her mouth to his and kissed the holy hell out of him. Right there in the church parking lot.
And her lips formed a very sneaky, self-satisfied smile when she released him. “Drive, cowboy.”
At the truck stop they chose a seat at the back of the restaurant.
“So what’d you tell your family you were doin’ today after church?”
“They didn’t ask. I put a roast in the oven and told them when it’d be done. As long as they’re fed, they probably won’t even notice I’m not there.”
Carson reached for her hand. “I’m sad to hear that. I imagine bein’ the oldest girl in a family of boys and your mama bein’ sickly that most the household stuff fell on you.”
Carolyn squirmed and sipped her Coke. Then she said, “It wasn’t all bad.”
But that didn’t convince him. “How old were you when you started doin’ all the cookin’?”
“Ten. But I didn’t do it all. My brothers sort of helped and my mother supervised. She taught me how to do everything. I didn’t look at it as a chore until a couple of years ago when I came home and my father expected me to do everything around the house.” She disentangled her fingers from his. “What about you? How much work does your father do on the ranch?”
He pretended not to notice her physical retreat when his question hit too close to home. “He still runs everything. Me’n my brothers are just pups to him, as he reminds us every day. But he does listen to us. At least he did when two parcels of land came up for sale in the last year and he bought ’em up. With the extra grazing areas we added more cattle to our herd.”
“I know I’m not supposed to ask a rancher how many heads he runs, but I’m asking you.”
“Between us? Three hundred.”
“Oh. That’s a lot.”
“Keeps us busy. We’ve had a couple of neighbors approach us about buyin’ them out too, but we gotta wait to see how our finances are when we start selling cattle in October.” He reached for her hand again. “I get plenty of ranch talk. I don’t want that with you.”
“Can I say something, and I hope you don’t take it the wrong way?”
Hard not to bristle at that question. “I reckon.”
“You seem a lot older than twenty-four. Not with the way you look, because heaven knows you’ve been blessed there, but how you act.”
“My mother said God took an old soul and split it between me’n Cal in the womb. My dad…” Last week’s conversation with his old man pushed front and center. Jesus, son, what is wrong with you? You gonna be chasin’ skirts, getting drunk, starting fights and driving that truck like an idiot until you kill yourself with your own stupidity? Grow up. And get your damn chores done. I swear lately you’ve been worse than Casper.
“Your dad what?”
Carson refocused on her. “My dad and I don’t see eye to eye on a lot of things.”
“I know how that goes.”
“And he’s been a miserable jackass to everyone since Mom passed on.”
She squeezed his hand. “How long ago was that?”
“Six years. Me’n Cal had just turned eighteen. She had a stroke. Standin’ in the kitchen cookin’ bacon and eggs one minute and layin’ dead on the floor the next.”
The waitress served their meals and he was grateful for the interruption. He’d ordered biscuits and gravy with a side of sausage and pancakes. Carolyn ordered chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes and gravy. He hid his smile. The woman could eat.