Cowboy Take Me Away (Rough Riders 16) - Page 129/139

“I can’t relax.”

“This is supposed to relax you.”

“Well, it’s not, it’s just making me more tense so can we just get it over with please?”

“Over with?” That stung. He eased out of her body and pushed to the end of the bed, waiting for the soft caress of her hand assuring him she didn’t mean it. Waiting for her to ask if they could start over. Because in all the years they’d been married, she’d only left him hanging like this a few times.

Carson felt the bed shift and glanced over to see her…grabbing her clothing.

What the hell?

Carolyn wouldn’t meet his gaze as she slipped on her bra and hooked it behind her. “Look, I’ll catch you later before we go to bed. I’m just really not in the mood right now.”

No kidding.

She didn’t stop and kiss him or touch him at all. She just breezed past him, leaving him nekkid and alone with a flagging erection and a sense of unease.

That night in their bed she’d kept to her word and more than made up for her odd behavior in the camper bedroom earlier.

Still, he knew something was going on with her.

A dose of the grandkids always cheered her up. He asked Colby and Channing if they could take their four boys to the lake for the weekend.

Gib, Braxton, Miles and Austin were highly impressed with the RV. Carolyn had just closed the garden gate when he pulled up and honked. Was she ever speechless when the grandsons spilled out, chattering a mile a minute about their surprise weekend camping adventure with Grandpa and Gran-gran.

Carolyn scooped Austin up and perched him on her hip, smooching his chubby cheek. “You boys ready to go camping?”

They all shouted, “Yes!”

Then his wife smiled at him—and it wasn’t a nice smile. “Let’s go.”

“Right now?”

“You busy doin’ something else?”

Why was she tossing his words from yesterday afternoon at him? “No.”

“Good. I’ll just grab my purse and lock the front door and we’ll hit the road.”

“But…”

She whirled on him. “But what? Isn’t this the appeal of having a camper? We can just take off whenever the mood strikes us?”

“Yeah, but sugar, we don’t have any food or supplies.”

She flapped her hand at him. “Minor details.”

Maybe she planned to stop at the grocery store on the way to the lake.

But she insisted they check into the campground to secure a good spot. Once they’d paid the fees and parked, everyone was hungry and there wasn’t so much as a breath mint in the camper to feed four hungry boys and two adults. So they trekked to the marina convenience store and bought thirty bucks worth of food.

They roasted hot dogs and marshmallows over the campfire. The kids ate every bit of it.

When bedtime rolled around, Carolyn insisted he sleep with the boys in the bunk; she worried one of them would fall off in the middle of the night. She and Austin took the bedroom and they all slept in their clothes since no one had remembered to bring pajamas.

The next morning Carson returned to the marina convenience store and bought thirty bucks worth of donuts, milk and juice, which the boys devoured in one sitting. Since Carolyn didn’t swim, she kept Austin in the camper with her.

The boys had brought swimming trunks, but no towels, so after they’d exited the water they’d had to dry off in the sun. Upon returning to the camper, once again the boys were starved.

Instead of traipsing back to the overpriced convenience store, Carson pulled up stakes and they drove into town for lunch. When neither their grandsons nor Carolyn seemed too keen on camping another night, they dropped the boys off and headed home.

Home. It was a pretty nice place to be. After polishing off a half a dozen cookies, Carson plopped in his easy chair to watch TV.

So the camping experiment hadn’t gone too well the first time. Next time they’d be more prepared. He’d drifted into a mental road map of the places he’d like to visit when Carolyn snatched the remote out of his hand.

He looked up to see her planted in front of him, wearing her pissed-off face.

“How long have we been married?”

He opened his mouth to answer and she cut him off.

“In all those years have I ever told you it was my fondest dream to own an RV and travel the country?”

Shit.

“No, I haven’t. You know why? Because that is my idea of hell. That is the single most asinine thing you’ve ever…” She made a huffing noise and leaned forward to jab her finger into his chest. “You don’t cook, so who would be responsible for all the meals? Me. You don’t clean, so who would be responsible for keeping the camper tidy? Me. You don’t grocery shop, so who would be responsible for stocking the camper pantry? Me. How is that a f**king vacation for me, Carson McKay? It isn’t. And it makes me think that you don’t know me at all if you believe I’d want that nomadic life. Our life is here. Not with strangers at some senior citizens RV park playing bridge and comparing pictures of our grandkids. How the hell much did that camper cost?” She jabbed him in the chest again. “For that kind of money, we could fly wherever we wanted. We could stay at a five star hotel. We could eat at a different restaurant every night and still have money left over to do it again…ten or fifteen more times! That is a vacation. Dragging the whole damn house with us so I can cook and clean in an itty bitty space while you watch satellite TV in your plush captain’s chair ain’t gonna happen. Ever.”

She stood and placed her hands on her hips. “Monday morning you will return that camper to the dealer. Tell them you changed your mind.”

His mouth dropped open. “Do you know how much money we’ll lose if I do that?”

“Do you know how much more money you’ll lose if I divorce your stupid ass for expecting that’s how I’d spend my retirement?”

Holy shit. She wasn’t serious…was she? “Caro—”

She drilled that sharp index finger into his chest, punctuating every word. “I. Am. Not. Kidding. Me or the camper, Carson McKay. You choose.”

After the camper was gone, they never spoke of it again.

Chapter Thirty

Hospital, Day 7—morning

Carson had overslept, and the nurses hadn’t woken him so he’d missed three visits with Carolyn. By the time his visitation window arrived and he’d dragged himself into her room, he was a wreck.

“Hey sugar. I’m sittin’ here beside you. I know you can hear me. I need you to hear me. Come back to me. I need you to know that I’m right here, I ain’t goin’ anywhere.