Cowboy Take Me Away(33)
The image—the beautiful image of her writhing under him hit him hard. “What is it you want me to say?”
“The truth.”
Don’t do it.
But his mouth opened of its own accord. “Last night I wanted to fuck you. I will fuck you but it won’t be on a whim on a hard goddamned picnic table. It’ll be in a proper bed where I can take my time so your first time is special because God knows mine wasn’t. It won’t make you a whore. It’ll just make you mine.”
“Oh.”
“And sugar, if you wanna talk dirty to me, I’m good with that. But I’d rather you didn’t do it when I’m behind the wheel ’cause I’m liable to wreck my damn truck.”
Silence.
After a minute or so of dead air, he chanced a quick look at her.
The woman wore that I’ve-got-a-secret smile that spelled trouble.
Shit. “Say something.”
“Now that that’s sorted out, where are we going?”
“I thought we could see a movie in Spearfish.”
“Do you know what’s playing?”
“Nope. But it’ll be dark, you’ll be next to me so I don’t really care.” Did that make him sound smarmy? He changed the subject. “So tell me about your day.”
“My mom’s friend Maxine Granger stopped by. She takes in mending and ironing, plus she does alterations and some custom tailoring. Maxine’s daughter had a baby and she’ll be gone to Kansas for at least a month. She’s asked me to fulfill her sewing and alterations jobs during that time. Which will work out because I can do it from home.”
“Won’t that be a lot of work?”
She shrugged. “I’m used to it. I think my fingers are finally healed from last summer.”
He frowned. “What’d you do last summer?”
“Same thing I’ve done every summer since I was twelve. Lived with my aunt and assisted her in the custom tailoring business she owns. It’s a family thing on mother’s side. My mom used to be an amazing seamstress and she started teaching me to sew when I was five. Then because of the arthritis…” She cleared her throat. “Aunt Hulda took over since she’s a seamstress too. She paid for our private schooling and in exchange I worked in her shop on weekends and half the summer.”
It’d be hypocritical if Carson said expecting a twelve-year-old girl to help out was child slavery; he’d been doing chores and learning the ways of the ranch since he was a boy. “Those sewing skills are obvious because you’re always wearin’ such nice clothes. Did you make ’em?”
Carolyn smoothed her hand down her skirt. “Yes. Do you like them?”
“Yes, I surely do like that you look like you stepped out of a magazine.” But I’d really like to see those pretty clothes in a pile on my bedroom floor. Or the floor of this truck.
Pervert. Slowing things down, remember?
They parked in front of the movie theater. Arabesque didn’t look all that interesting to him—he preferred a western—but with one theater in town there wasn’t much choice. Unless… “Want to go to the drive-in? There’s gotta be something better playing.”
“I’ve never been to a drive-in. Sounds like fun.”
They joined the line of cars waiting to get in to see El Dorado—a John Wayne picture he’d looked forward to seeing.
Once inside the lot, Carson chose a spot away from the high school partiers. “You want popcorn or a pop?”
“I’d take a Coke.”
“Stay here. I’ll get it.”
She looked at him funny.
“What?”
“Embarrassed to be seen with me, McKay?”
“You caught me. It’s such a chore to have a beautiful, classy blonde on my arm. Come on, then.” He helped her out, keeping his hand on her lower back as they crossed the gravel parking lot to the concession stand.
Just after they’d cleared the line he ran into Jim Hagar, a guy he’d graduated from high school with. “Carson McKay at a drive-in? What, are all the local bars closed for some reason?”
Given his reputation, he probably deserved that. But also given his reputation, Jim oughta know Carson had no problem popping a loudmouth for a smart comment.
A boy of about two and girl of about four, both wearing pajamas, were running around, weaving between Jim’s legs, yelling and hitting each other. He snapped, “Knock it off.” Then he looked at Carson. “Bringing the kids to the drive-in gets me’n Barb outta the house without having to pay a sitter.”
“I wouldn’t know.”
Jim’s gaze landed on Carolyn. “This your wife?”