Текст книги "A Taste of Summer"

Автор книги: Beverly Preston

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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

Their bodies entwined in a fever rush of madness, bucking and thrusting fiercely as another climax broke over her. He tackled her mouth with ravenous, indecent kisses, seizing her hips, propelling himself deeper with his own release.

Struggling for air, she forced her fingers free allowing her arms to fall slack around his neck. Summer’s kisses gentled. She collapsed on top of his chest as he reclined backward into the seat. They clung to each other, absorbing the strong tremors of delight ricocheting through their bodies.

Lying in his arms, Summer still wedged inside, Carrie Ann couldn’t shake the feeling of being a little deprived. She wanted to feel the heat of his release. She wanted to feel the slickness. Wistful romanticism grew stronger with each beat of her heart, leaving her wanting and vulnerable. She found it difficult not to blurt out three little words that had once spilled so easily from her lips.

The temptation scared her. Sentiments caught in her chest. She wasn’t ready. Once she let him in, there’d be no escaping him…there’d be no escaping the truth. The idea of vocally acknowledging the wounds she’d kept buried for so long weaved an unsettling path through her consciousness.

A sweet kiss at her temple brought her back to the gorgeous vision in front of her. Carrie Ann smiled warmly. Pressing her lips to the stubble-covered dimple in his chin, she tried to keep her voice steady. “I think I’ve forgotten how good this can be.”

“I’ve never forgotten,” he whispered near her ear, his deep voice a caress against her skin.

Summer rummaged through a backpack lying on the backseat, retrieving a wet washcloth from a large Ziploc baggie. Pushing himself to an upright position, he opened the door, and assisted her from his lap. Scrambling out of the vehicle, he discarded the condom to the baggie, warming the cloth in his hand before washing each of them thoroughly.

“How many of those Ziplocs do you have in the backpack?”

A flash of white smile disappeared behind his shirt, as he yanked it over his head. “Three.”

“Good answer,” she giggled, slipping into her shorts.

They spent the next hour and a half hiking along the spine of the range. She huffed and puffed, feeling a shortness of breath in the thin mountain air. Summer navigated his way up a trail of sorts, stopping at an overlook.

“Wow.” Her breath diminished, riveted by the stunning panoramic views. The complete scope of Montana solitude on full display. Mother Nature showed off her beauty in vivid blends of yellows and greens. Not to be left out, the sophisticated greys and burnt sienna of the surrounding peaks stood erect like soldiers protecting the alpine cirque in the valley below. The considerable trek well worth every ache and pain she’d feel in her glutes later.

“Nice perspective, isn’t it?” He retrieved a blanket fastened to the bottom of his pack and rolled it out on a flat patch of ground in the sun.

“I’d say this qualifies as a million dollar view.”

“You think? I was thinking we might have to go to Paris for the million dollar view.”

“Paris? I’ve never been.”

“Or maybe St. Lucia, Italy, Seychelles…I have a list of places I want to take you.”

“You’ve been getting around.”

“Actually, out of the bunch, I’ve only been to Paris. And I wasn’t on vacation. I was there while filming…”

“You know you don’t have to do that?”

“Do what?”

“Take me places to impress me.”

A low filthy chuckle sifted through the tendrils of loose hair as he moved in behind her, nuzzling into the crook of her neck. The sinfully rich, melodious tone made her toes curl.

“We both know all I need to do to impress you is slip my fingers into that gorgeous mane of dark hair of yours.”

Her agreement came as a giggle, as she pressed a sideways kiss to his cheek. He crossed both arms beneath her chest, resting his chin on her shoulder. Both of their thoughts seemed to be floating along the clouds gathering to the west in the far distance. A soft pink hue danced beneath the belly, magnifying the bold landscape colors even further.

“You remember my old truck?”

“How could I forget Big Dirty?” An enormous grin slid across her face. On a campus full of influential sports cars, boasting egos and statuses, his big black four wheel drive stuck out like a sore thumb. “I always loved that truck.”

“Red?”

His pause prompted a reply. “Yes?”

“What do you want out of life?”

“’Scuse me?” She didn’t know why she acted like he needed to repeat the question. She’d heard him crystal clear. And he knew it. Summer gave her a significant glance, raising an inquisitive brow. “I don’t know. I guess I just want to be happy.”

“You’re happy. I can tell. You love your career. You have a fearsome work ethic. You love your friends. You’re content with where you’re at in life. But that’s not what I’m asking you.”

“What are you asking?” Her voice a quiet rasp. Nerves fluttered in her stomach like the wings of a hummingbird. Heat flushed her chest and cheeks.

Summer swayed with the breeze. “When you’re lying in bed at night and it’s just you and your thoughts, what do you dream of?”

A notch tugged between her brows trying to figure out how the conversation switched from Big Dirty to life dreams. Puzzle pieces were spinning and rotating in her mind searching for the correct placement.

“I’ve been blessed with a phenomenal career that I never saw coming. After losing football, I would’ve never even considered acting. It just fell into my lap. The opportunities that have been given to me have been astonishing. In some ways I feel so lucky…I’ve got good friends, my family, more money than most people could spend in a lifetime. Yet, I feel like I’m pissing time away.” His lips drew closer to her ear in a raspy whisper. “I’m tired of fucking around with my life. I want more than contentment.”

Her fingers came to her lips, nervously rubbing along her bottom lip as she pondered the enormity of the question.

“God, I remember thinking life was so damn easy. When I was on the field, it felt like I was catching every green light on the road of life. I always loved that truck. It didn’t matter if I washed it or if it was covered in mud, no one ever gave it a thought…because they never noticed it. When I signed my first movie deal, the first thing I wanted to do was sell that truck and get a sports car.”

“The Viper.” She could barely suppress her frown, inquiring, “I never understood why you bought that thing? All the rich kids drove those in college.”

“Exactly,” he muttered, in a sound of disgraceful resignation. “I grew up in a small town surrounded by corn fields. Football was supposed to be my one way ticket to a different life. I was on my way to the top, rising to this incredible high and then everything crashed. Hard. No parachute included. I’m sorry for everything I put you through, Red. You tried so hard to make me feel that everything was going to work out for the best, but I just couldn’t see it that way. I felt like the future I worked so hard for was ripped out of my hands. I took my self-pity out on you.”

“You were the one who put a monetary value on success. Not me. I get it…you wanted a different life than the one you were raised with, but…”

“It was made very clear to me that I’d never be enough. I’d never be able to give you the life you were raised with. The life you deserved.”

Carrie Ann could practically hear her father’s disparaging words, full of judgment and laced with insult. The ugly memory soured her stomach. She hated the way her father treated him.

“Money doesn’t ensure happiness. Watching you fall apart was the second hardest thing I’ve had to witness.” There was no need to explain. Even as a young girl, the sorrow of her mother’s death defined her. Carrie Ann never looked at life the same way after.

“I wasn’t ready for it. I wasn’t ready for any of it…especially the overnight success that followed.” He gently traced the back of his fingers along the underside of her chin, still using her shoulder as a pillow. “Suddenly, I had the money, the fame, the house, that stupid sports car, but they were just crutches for my personal satisfaction. I became obsessed with appearance and how everyone else in the world viewed me. I was meticulously aware of how I spoke, who I was seen with, even how I shook someone’s hand for fuck’s sake. I turned into my car. A pretentious self-centered, asshole and I didn’t like what I saw in the mirror.”

Enthralled in his story, a small smile of understanding lifted at the corners of her mouth. She touched her index finger to his chin dimple. “You’ve never been an asshole.”

“Yeah, I was and I got pretty sick of myself.”

“Under all that sexy, bravado of arrogance, you were always grounded, Summer. What changed it around for you?”

“I split for a while. Trekked through Peru, spent some time in India. Got my head on straight. Getting away from the spotlight forced me to look inside…take inventory on what makes me happy. It helped immensely, but I still couldn’t shake this feeling inside of me…this conviction of failing.”

“You’ve never failed at anything. Sometimes things in life just happen. Things we don’t have control over.”

“Yeah well, life sent me over the edge when I couldn’t make it to Shayla’s wedding. I was on location in New Zealand. I was angry, seriously outraged, because I couldn’t be there. That’s when I realized…my anger had absolutely nothing to do with Shayla and John getting married. I was livid because I wouldn’t get the chance to see you.”

She could feel the look of hurt creeping across her forehead. Carrie Ann had pretended, even to herself, to be so relieved that he couldn’t attend the wedding, but deep down she was disappointed not to see him. “I’ve never really admitted this, not even to Shayla, but…”

“Umm, actually you have admitted it. And I really could’ve done without that one, Carrie Ann. You were totally bummed that I wasn’t at the wedding. But you were so worried that I’d show up last minute with another woman you brought a date, which led to a horrible one-night stand. Which you’ve blamed me for…for the last five years.”

Carrie Ann looked away in humiliation, nervously digging a hole in the dirt with her shoe. She murmured crossly, “It was all your fault.”

“Yes. It was my fault and I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive myself for letting you out of my life long enough to give other men the opportunity of…enjoying you.”

Jealously began a slow assault on her senses. The handful of relationships and lovers she’d had over the years paled in comparison to the countless affairs he’d had, not including weekend fucks. The mere thought of the headcount set her on a very sharp edge of combustion.

“What about all the women you’ve enjoyed?” she snapped.

“Maybe we should just get this out of the way right now?” He spun her around. His probing stare locked in hers, scrutinizing her features. Carrie Ann squirmed to get out of his arms, but he refused to release her. Hands pressed against his chest, she could feel hard running emotions pounding beneath her fingers. “If you think it was any easier for me to see you with someone else, you’re wrong. It was all I could do not to rip each one of them apart, limb by limb. Now…we can either table the discussion or get it out the way. Which do you prefer?”

“No, I don’t want to talk about all the women you’ve slept with.” Her temper ignited. She panted and wriggled trying to get free. Her face screwed into a tight snarl of frustration and repugnance, imagining the amount of spray-tanned flawlessness that had laid between his sheets. Emotions pricked the corner of her eyes.

“There’s not much to say, Red.” In one smooth move, Summer scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the blanket. “Every woman I’ve been with, for that matter, every woman I’ve ever known, pales in comparison to you.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Tabled.”

“Believe me, Red, you’re going to get to the tabled, but right now I think we need to clear the air.”

Her eyes fluttered and heart melted at the mere hint of table sex. Heavy breaths huffed from her flared nostrils. It was silly and stupid for her to be jealous, but she was sick with it.

Summer dropped to his knees and set her on her bum, and spun her so they were nose-to-nose. He crawled over her, arranging her just so, until his rear pointed skyward and his forearms rested at each side of her head. His lips inches from hers.

“We’re at nine thousand feet. The air can’t get any clearer,” she nipped sullenly, cutting him a sardonic eye roll.

Summer brushed the tip of his nose to hers, nudging playfully. He maneuvered his head to keep the sun from glaring into her eyes. She could barely make out his face, shadowed from the bright rays, but she could still make out his eyes smiling softly, taunting her with happiness. The man always possessed a distinct capability, an art really, of making her laugh when she was pissed.

“It’s just something I’m going to need to get over.”

“There’s nothing to get over. My past is my past. Your past is your past. Life is what it is, Carrie Ann. We can’t go back, we can only move forward. I give you my word…you’ll never have any reason to feel jealous again.” The tender sincerity in his tone, played along her heart strings. Summer palmed a few flyaway hairs from her face. His mouth moved over hers, delivering a sweet kiss. “You own my heart. You always have. Everything else has just been white noise filling in the blank spaces.”

A long sigh of acceptance drifted free from her tight pursed lips, steadying her shaky exhale. Her eyes adjusted to the light. She focused on his throat, smooth and tan. Appetizing. Carrie Ann brought her palms to his neck, entwining them at his nape. “I kind of like this…softer side of you, Summer.”

“Oh really?” He growled. “It’s the only thing soft you’re going to get from me today.”

“Is that so?” she countered boldly, trying to keep a straight face. “Gonna give it to me hard?”

“Carrie Ann Lowell, from now on you get it however you’d like it.” His tone riddled with impeccable politeness. For a millisecond. “Hard and fast, slow and dirty…you just say the word, but today I plan on fucking you into exhaustion.”

*

“What the…” A sea of white greeted them when they walked through the door. Toilet paper was strewn from one end the cabin to the other. “Aspen!”

“Uh-oh.” Carrie Ann contained her giggles behind the palm of her hand. “Looks like someone was a busy girl while we were gone.”

“Oh…she is in T.R.O.U.B.L.E. Aspen!” Authority rang in his voice as he called again. Summer gathered long strips and tiny pieces of tissue in his hand, making his way into the living room.

Movement stirred beneath a pile of flowy white cotton. A black nose and sleepy brown eyes peered out between the pillowed squares. A golden fluff ball emerged, fiercely barking as she charged toward them protectively.

“What did you do?”

Aspen skid to a halt, identifying the intruder as her master returning home after a long day. She whined, wiggling from head to tail, trotting toward them with a scarf made of toilet paper. Carrie Ann forced herself to look away from the cuteness.

Summer held out the ream of toilet paper in his hand. “This is a no, no. Bad girl, Aspen.”

The pup slowed to a crawl, literally, inching closer on her belly. She looked guilty as hell, sprawled out on the floor like a Swiffer sweeper. Aspen avoided Summer’s harsh stare as he scolded her several times before sneaking off to hide on her doggie bed.

“I’m so proud of you. You’re so strict. I would’ve totally caved. I mean seriously…look how stinking adorable she is. Even when she’s bad.”

Summer turned his back to the dog, so she couldn’t see the humor weave through his smile. He winked at Carrie Ann, whispering out the side of his mouth, “Go get your camera.”

“I knew you were a big softy.”

She snapped a dozen disaster photos and a short video collecting evidence of the destruction. Summer sat cross-legged on the floor reengineering the locking mechanism on the puppy play pen. Aspen snuck out of her timeout position, warily making her way to her daddy, head hung low in remorse, with a deflated football in her mouth.

“Drop it.”

She placed the ball in his lap as peace offering.

“Good girl,” he praised.

Summer lowered his nose to hers. His eyes pierced into a hard squint, holding until she couldn’t take it any longer. Catching him off guard, Aspen slurped a big wet kiss right on his mouth. He laughed out loud, easing back onto a pillow, accepting her apology kisses.

After a few tosses of the football, it didn’t take long for both of them to pass out. Carrie Ann located his phone, grabbed a jacket from an antler, and quietly slipped outside to message Shayla.

It’s me, Carrie Ann.

I figured things out.

Can you talk for a minute?

Within seconds, the phone vibrated in her hand. Her cheeks instantaneously heated to a bright shade of crimson. “Hey, Shay.”

“What does that mean? What have you figured out?”

“Well, hello to you too.”

“Don’t you dare…” Her motherly tone vanished as she covertly whispered into the phone, “…fuck with me Carrie Ann.”

“I can’t believe you hung up on me.” Carrie Ann contained her giddiness, dragging out the torture.

“Carrie Ann!” A loud warning.

“We’re together.”

She couldn’t deny the huge smile from consuming her entire body, wiggling from head to toe, mimicking the puppy. Shrills of excitement rang through the air as Carrie Ann held the phone away from her ear.

“Together? Please define that before I get too excited.”

“That means we’re together…as in boyfriend and girlfriend.”

“Halle-frickin-lujah! It’s about time!” A sentimental sniffle broke through her happiness.

“Oh my gosh, are you crying?”

“Heck yes, I’m crying! And I’m covered in goosies. I’ve been waiting years for this to happen. Honestly, I’d given up hope.”

Shayla’s show of emotion brought the sting of wetness to her lower lashes. Carrie Ann heard John cheering in the background.

“Stop, you’re making me cry.”

“Finally! Thank you,” Shayla acclaimed. Carrie Ann could envision her best friend, palms together, chin tilted skyward. “Okay, okay. I want to know every detail. Well, not every detail, but I want the low down.”

Pebbles crunched beneath her feet as Carrie Ann paced back and forth, recanting the story. She left out the juicy details, partly because John’s big head was wedged between Shayla’s ear and her phone and because she’d always found their intimacy to personal to share. Even with her best friend. However, she managed to indicate that they were even better than ever together, which prompted the question she’d hoped to avoid.

“Are you really okay?” Shayla’s hushed tone full of concern. “How did Summer take it?”

Pacing came to a halt.

“You did tell him, right?”

Dusk brought a chill to the still air. A shudder trickled down her spine one vertebrae at a time, indicating there was still a backbone hidden in there somewhere.

“Carrie Ann…” Shayla drew her name out as if Ann had two syllables. Sympathy fused with frustration and disapproval. “You have to talk to him.”

“I know.” Her assurance resonated lamely…even to her own ears. “I will. I just haven’t found the right time.”

“Don’t give me that crap. You’ve been alone with him for days.”

Shayla’s uneasy groan rang in her ear as a bitter warning. Right on cue, her old nemesis guilt appeared, tapping her left shoulder with a pitchfork.

“I will.” Her voice slipped into a softness, nearly inaudible. “I have to, Shayla. Honestly, I’ve tried, but the words just won’t come out. I don’t know how to start the conversation.”

Shayla’s tsk of understanding, delivered little comfort. “Promise me you’ll tell him before you come home.”

Carrie Ann drew in a never-ending breath. She filled her cheeks full of air, expanding them like frightened blowfish, before slowly releasing the pressure through tightly compressed lips. “I promise.”

Chapter Twelve

‡

She’d spent ten years trying to force him from her memories, but the days that followed were a magical rediscovery of a love neither had ever truly let go of. The window to her soul had been pushed wide open, welcoming Summer like a breath of fresh air.

Carrie Ann couldn’t get enough of him and Summer seemed just as content being glued to her side. And her front. And her back. They kissed passionately, danced randomly, made love zealously, and laughed constantly. The simple act of holding his hand felt like a lifeline to their future. Happiness welled from a place deep down inside, bringing life to a place she thought had been wiped from her spirit.

The word vacation took on an entirely different meaning. No schedules, no clocks, no social media. This was relaxation at its finest. An unadulterated week of being unplugged from the world and uninhibited from one another.

They went for short hikes, soaked in the mineral pool, lounged by the fire, and had several serious rounds of Who Sunk My Battleship by candlelight. Summer broke out a script and read to her, actually read to her, in front of the fire. The script was touted as a masterful title that would bring the literary sub-genre Domestic Noir to the forefront. Mixing the seductive thriller, or at least the good parts, with his privately distilled whiskey made for an erotic evening. Remaining in character, he slinked down her waist, hooking his thumb through the thin material of her panties. “You are my addiction,” he said with conviction. Taking it a step beyond the sensual scene written on the pages, he plunged his mouth to her apex, bringing her to pieces with his wickedly talented tongue.

After reaching her peak, she panted, “Just so we’re clear, you’re not taking this role, right? Cause I’d hate to have to hospitalize one of Hollywood’s finest leading ladies.”

“From now on, you are my only leading lady.”

“That’s a definitive no, right?”

A low chuckle simmered in his chest, taking a bite of her inner thigh. “That’s a definitive no.”

Weather permitting, they took a day trip to Jackson Hole. The upscale sleepy village offered limitless opportunities to outdoor enthusiasts of every age and acted as a magnet for fast paced family fun during the peak seasons. Pup in tow, they meandered the streets, hitting a few galleries and designer boutiques infused with authentic western flare. He bought a few trinkets for the cabin, a souvenir hoodie for each of them, plus several handmade candles and oils, promising to use them that night, their last night, at the cabin.

Though they opted to keep the day casual, Carrie Ann wore a cerulean blue cotton summer dress and her favorite converse while he dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. Though he sported a baseball cap, backwards, people still noticed him. Summer’s height and size made him stand out in any crowd, but his ruggedly handsome features made him a target for women of any age. Not to mention he was named Man Crush of the Year by People.

Passerby’s pointed and stared, snapping photos from a distance. She found herself on edge with the added attention, but Summer was in his element. He was confident, yet on guard, fully aware of everything going on around them. His ready smile and laid back charm was on full display as he held her hand and kissed her sweetly, openly showering her with affection.

Children lined the streets and their father’s shoulders, as they gathered in the town square taking in the old fashioned gun-slinging showdown between an infamous outlaw and a posse hot on his trail. The Jackson Hole Shootout Show had been a Montana tradition for more than fifty years.

After the showdown, they stood in a small informal line, waiting to take a touristy picture under the iconic arch made of elk antlers. A little girl waiting in line behind them wearing pigtails and a water bottle fanny pack, lingered closer, making fast friends with Aspen. Her mother strolled over to oversee the friendship.

Getting a glimpse of Summer, she squealed, loudly, sending a shriek of excitement throughout the square. “Oh, my God! Oh, my God! I can’t believe it’s you! I love your movies!”

Summer immediately offered his hand as a polite hello, but the woman was in the middle of a total full-blown fan girl meltdown. She bypassed his extended hand, and dove straight in for a full embrace. Thankfully he had good footing or she might have tackled him to the ground. Carrie Ann stepped back, though she didn’t have much of choice. The mother wedged herself between them, throwing her arms around his waist, like a small child clinging to a giant teddy bear.

Unable to disguise her shock, Carrie Ann’s eyes popped wide and mouth gaped open. She wasn’t mad, but the element of surprise, left her a bit dazed. Noticing Carrie Ann’s reaction, the woman’s husband clasped hold of his wife’s elbow attempting to draw her away.

Not happening. There was no way she was letting go. Smashing her crimson cheek against his chest, she drew in a big breath through her nose, indulging in the scent of his cologne. The woman’s eyes drifted shut and her smile filled with wonderment as if he smelled exactly as she hoped he would.

Summer’s demeanor switched like a flip. No one else seemed to notice, but Carrie Ann witnessed his energy shift one hundred and eighty degrees into work mode. He greeted her with a polite hello and a brief hug before holding her at bay, reaching for her husband’s hand. The two men exchanged a nod, a gesture of sorts, an underlying indication that the man needed to peel his wife from Summer’s frame.

The thirty-something man, who appeared to be somewhat mortified by his wife’s behavior yet a little star struck himself, collected her by the arm, encouraging, “Honey, step back and give Mr. Ryan some breathing room.”

A small crowd started to gather. Carrie Ann’s gaze sifted defensively through a sea of curious onlookers. Summer snagged Carrie Ann by the waist, pulling her to his side, graciously offering a quick picture in hopes of quieting her outburst.

“You want me in the picture?” she whispered in his ear. “I don’t think she wants me in the photo. Really, I don’t mind. Go ahead.”

The words I don’t mind tumbled from her mouth so easily. Too easily. And Summer knew it. She minded. The fact that the majority of women in the world ranging from birth to ninety-nine found him one of the sexiest men on the planet would take some getting used to and some learned restraint on her part. However, having a father known for his savvy courtroom tactics that may or may not have allowed more than one criminal free to walk the streets, Carrie Ann did more than enjoy her privacy, she cherished it. One little crowd in the middle of nowhere wouldn’t compare to the chaos that would be waiting for them in Hollywood. Stepping foot on the tarmac in LA was going to be a three-ring circus.

Summer tucked a loose piece of hair behind her ear, bringing his eyes around to meet hers. “I mind,” his undertone, profuse with emotion.

One by one phones lifted to head-height, snapping pictures that would surely be added to a dozen Yellowstone family vacation photo albums. They posed for a picture with the woman, and a few with the entire family, Aspen included.

Making their way out of the crowd, tourists stopped him for a few more pictures and several asked for autographs. Carrie Ann assured, voice strung with humor, “I bet you a hundred bucks she crops me out of every picture in less than five minutes.”

Raising a brow, he hooked an arm over her shoulder, drawing her into his chest, planting a big kiss of possession to her lips. “I bet she saves this one.”

Summer made special reservations for two and a half at the Snake River Grill. The Chef treated them to a scrumptious full-course meal of ember toasted baby carrots, smoked octopus with a to-die-for Italian Chile sauce, cast-iron roasted cauliflower, and dry-aged ribeye grilled to perfection. Unable to take another bite, Chef fashioned a to-go cooler complete with dry ice, topping off dinner with a decadent homemade Eskimo Bar served with a side of rich gooey hot caramel, as well as a special treat for Aspen, too.

Boarding the plane, Summer offered assistance, grabbing her hips, stating with a growl as he took a bite of her bum, “I’ve got plans for that caramel sauce.”

The heated promise brought a blush to her cheeks. She couldn’t take her eyes off him as he loaded their bags. Sauce or no sauce, she wanted him in her mouth. Summer rummaged through the to-go bag, sending her pulse skyrocketing. She wondered if it was the wisest of ideas to fool around while flying. Probably not. She started to protest, but zipped her lips when he retrieved Aspen’s steak bone from the bag and tossed it into the trash with a loud thud.

As he climbed into the pilot seat, she questioned, “No dessert for Aspen?”

“No. I didn’t want to offend Chef, but I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Why? Dogs love bones.”

“Well, first off she’s never had one and it might make her tummy upset.” His brow arched in absolute conviction, like that of an overly protective parent of a young child. “And that bone had already been grilled. I read that you should start them off with a bone that’s been boiled, that way there’s less chance of splintering. Either way, I’d rather wait till we get home, so she can be outside in case it makes her sick.”

“Oh.” Brows furled, she nodded in surprise. “You read up on dogs before getting a puppy?”

“Of course.” He twisted, stretching to poke a finger through Aspen’s dog crate strapped into the seat. He rubbed the tip of her wet nose. “I have to know what’s best for my little girl.”

The paternal concern he showed to Aspen, stroked every raw nerve ending she possessed. Carrie Ann fell quiet on the short flight back to the cabin. Tensions gathered in her stomach as her thoughts lingered. In fifteen hours they’d be flying back to California. Which meant she had fourteen to come clean. She’d hidden the hurt for so long, sharing the memory wouldn’t come easily.

When the plane came to a stop, she stared out the glass. Her gaze was transfixed on absolutely nothing, just absorbed in the notion that she needed to open her mouth. She needed to say something. Every minute that passed became more difficult.