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The Road Back to Us

Page 6

by K. Webster


  Tears are rolling down her cheeks as she stares at me with sad eyes. Her lip quivers with unsaid words.

  “I don’t know,” she finally says.

  “Not good enough, Care Bear. Where’s my girl? The girl from college?”

  She sniffles loudly. “She got left behind when we left for Vancouver. She was replaced by Mrs. Harrison—the supportive, loving wife.”

  Her words gut me, and guilt slides its way through my veins.

  “Caroline. I’m so sorry you felt like you needed to give up a piece of yourself. I’m even sorrier that I never even fucking noticed. All I had was my eye on the prize—proving to you that I could take care of us. That you’d never have to work or raise a pinkie again. I wanted you to be my queen.”

  Her eyes glisten, yet something hides below the surface. What is it?

  “Tell me,” I urge.

  She shrugs her shoulders and shakes away whatever it was that flickered behind her eyes. “I don’t know, Bentley. I’m me, although I’m not really sure who that is. But with you, I feel like I belong to something.”

  “Damn straight. You belong to me,” I blurt out.

  Her eyes fly to mine, and she purses her lips together but nods.

  Rolling my eyes at the fact that she so easily gave in, I lean toward her. “Listen here, baby. You’re mine—one hundred fucking percent. However, I want all of you. And right now, I feel like we’re missing some parts of the Caroline you once were, the person who loved life. While I’m fucking ecstatic that you’re eager to let me claim you like the caveman I am, I also worry. I’m worried that, in that head of yours, you’re hiding your true feelings. That hasn’t helped us a damn bit with our marital struggles. We need to be open and free to express whatever disturbs us. I want that part of you that you’re holding back. Tell me what you want out of life. Besides us.”

  “Um . . .” She scrunches up her nose as if she’s thinking.

  But I see it. I see her eyes toying with the idea of whether or not she should verbalize her thoughts. When her gaze meets mine again, she swallows. The resigned look on her face scares me to death, but whatever it is, I’ll support her.

  Her voice quivers as she says, “I lied about something, Bentley.”

  My mind instantly clatters through the internal memories of every male she’s been in contact with. I’m jealous of the mailmen, waiters, James, my brother. Everyone.

  She must sense my brewing rage, because she bats her eyelashes innocently at me, my worries snuffed out in an instant.

  “Not anything like what’s going on through your head. Wipe the murderous look from your face,” she giggles.

  Her laughter vibrates its way into my heart, and I relax but look at her expectantly.

  “I don’t care about my body. I’ve wanted to have a baby for a long time. I think, because you were always so busy and I was so alone, I convinced myself it wasn’t a conducive environment for a child. Instead of telling you the truth, I led you to believe I wasn’t interested anymore. But it was a lie, Bentley.” Her chin wobbles.

  I’m seconds away from fucking her hard enough to implant a bunch of damn babies in her womb.

  But she continues, breaking me from my carnal thoughts. “I want a family with you. And,” she sighs, “I want to have a garden. I want to walk out my back door and pick a tomato right from the vine so that I can slice it up to serve on a sandwich. I want to hold your hand as we stroll barefoot through a field while I take mindless pictures of pretty things and you love me without a care or worry in the world. I want a place that’s just us. I want to watch you through the window as I prepare my family dinner—watch you roll around in the yard with our children, toss a ball back and forth, no stocks or trades plaguing your thoughts. It took leaving the simple life in exchange for the not-so-simple one for me to realize I would never fit in there. I may make fun of Harley for being a hillbilly redneck, but I would love nothing more than to just live off the land with you.”

  Her eyes twinkle in a way I haven’t seen in a long time. I’ve missed the fucking twinkle.

  “Care Bear, I can give this to you. I’ll give you a baby. I’ll give you the fucking world,” I growl before seizing her lips with mine.

  She whimpers as I kiss her hard and desperately promise her I’ll do whatever it takes. Eventually, though, she breaks away.

  “That is not what I want—for you to give me everything. I want us to do it together. I want us to be a team. For once, let me take care of you too. The queen protects her king.”

  My sweet wife holds her chin high and appears to be fiercer than any mountain lion or grizzly bear. She wholeheartedly believes in her words.

  “Okay. I want to do this together. We’ll make it out of this cold hell and carve out a new life for ourselves. A life we can live hand in hand.”

  She nods and smiles, her beauty absolutely breathtaking. I’m a fool for almost letting her get away. Never again will I ever lose sight of her.

  “I’m hungry. Can we eat something?” she asks, her voice quieting.

  Nodding, I find the Coke and twist the cap. I take a long pull before handing it to her. “Here. Drink.”

  Her nose wrinkles as she eyes it in disgust. “You didn’t find my water?”

  “No. This is all we have for now. It will have to do until we can make a fire and heat up some snow.”

  Reluctantly, she takes the soda from me and brings it to her lips. After a small swallow, she makes a face. “Gross. It burns.”

  A full-bellied laugh bursts from me. “Don’t act like you didn’t love it.”

  “I prefer diet. God, I really miss my Diet Coke,” she sighs longingly.

  “When we get home, I’m buying you a case of that stuff. We can burn all your green tea pouches in the fireplace.”

  Fire. It once again reminds me that we desperately need it.

  She shakes her head with a smile. “You’re so dramatic.”

  Ripping open the bag of Doritos, I wink at her. “I learned it from watching you.”

  I get an eye roll, but she’s still grinning. Somehow, out here, at the bottom of a snowy hill, we’re flirting and having fun together. Life is full of surprises.

  The small junk food meal viciously rolls around in my stomach as I pack my laptop bag with what little supplies I’ve found for our journey. We need firewood, which is going to be fucking nightmare to find in this snow. But sitting here in this car, we’ll freeze to death. We won’t make it another night without any warmth.

  “Here. Let me help you,” I instruct as she unsuccessfully attempts to wrap her purple floral-print scarf around her head like I told her to.

  She packed some designers scarves, but instead of looking cute with it all tied up around her neck, she’ll look like an old lady with it wrapped around her head. And I will look like one ugly-ass old lady because I’m wearing a pink Aztec-patterned one.

  She leans forward and lets me adjust it tighter.

  “Let’s find some wood,” I grin as I pop through the window.

  “Found some,” she purrs below me as her hand grabs my cock through my jeans.

  I groan because it’s hard to not drop back inside the car and take her again. “Let me start us a fire and then we can play. Right now, surviving through the night is kind of important.”

  Crawling out of the top, I scan the snow-blanketed forest. Clouds are still thick above the tree line, but the snow seems to have stopped for now. All evidence of our crash down the hill is covered by the fresh snow. I can barely see the car and I’m sticking out of it. It will be nearly impossible from way up the hill or the road. It still pisses me off that it’s too steep for us to climb. If we keep walking along the bottom of the hill, maybe it won’t be as steep.

  Once I climb all the way out, Caroline hands me my gun and the laptop bag. After I get the bag in place across my chest, I sling my gun over my shoulder too. Then I grasp her hand and easily haul her up and out of the car. My wife could gain a pound or two.

 
; The wind blows from the north, which is the direction I decided we should walk in. I get a whiff of something that makes me want to fist-pump the air.

  “I smell fire. Do you smell it? That could mean someone lives near here. Let’s head in that direction.”

  She nods as we slide off the car and into the snow.

  “It’s so thick. How are we going to walk through this?” she questions nervously. Caroline is a good six inches shorter than I am, which means that the snow comes up to her hips.

  “We just need to make it over there.” I point about thirty feet to our right. “The snow seems shallower over there. Just be careful. We don’t know what’s underneath.”

  A frustrated sigh escapes her, and I grit my teeth. This seems like a terrible fucking idea, but staying in the car is a death wish. We have to find the source of that smell. There could be homes nearby—we just have to find them.

  “I’ll carry you if it gets too hard,” I assure her and then press a kiss to her chilly lips.

  She rewards me with a tiny smile, but it’s enough. Squaring my shoulders, I begin wading through the snow, hopefully leaving a better path for her as she trails behind me. Our journey is quiet at first as we struggle to gain footing, but once we get to an area where the snow is shallower, she speaks again.

  “I can’t feel my toes.”

  “IT’S COLD, BABY. Your toes are just a little numb, but they’ll warm up. Once we find help, I’ll rub your feet in front of the fire. I promise.”

  His words are sweet, but panic still rises in my chest. What if I lose my toes out here? I’ve watched movies where that happens. I can’t imagine what sort of pain and embarrassment those people went through. Then my nerves get the best of me and I stumble forward. I reach out for Bentley, but he’s just far enough from me that I miss and go down.

  Pain slices through my palm and I shriek. I’ve cut my hand through my glove on a branch poking out. Tears spring in my eyes, and I sob in frustration.

  “Caroline!”

  Bentley has made it back to me, falling to his knees in the snow to see to my hand. Gently, he pulls the glove off to inspect the damages.

  “Oh shit!” he exclaims seriously.

  “What?” I whimper.

  “We’re going to have to cut it off.”

  I gape at him in horror, but when he grins that goofy, lopsided grin of his that used to melt my insides, my lips twitch in response.

  “Asshole,” I mutter.

  “It’s only a scratch. You’ll survive. And you love me,” he chuckles, kissing my wrist before sliding my glove back over my fingers.

  I gaze into his brown eyes, which twinkle with mischief, and sigh happily. I’ll never get tired of looking at him.

  But you did.

  I gulp down that thought and allow my eyes to drag over his normally styled hair, which is poking out under the pink scarf and making him simply adorable.

  Never again.

  His lips stretch into a grin as he watches me check him out. “Like what you see?”

  “Meh, it’s okay,” I tease back as he stands, pulling me up with him.

  “You were never good at lying, Caroline. Cut the crap and tell me I’m a hunk.”

  Giggling, I swat at him. “Oh my God, what is this? Nineteen ninety-two? Who even says ‘hunk’ anymore?”

  “Apparently, you do. Confess. Say the words, baby.”

  I bite my lip, holding those words back.

  When he raises an eyebrow expectantly, he looks absolutely ridiculous in his old lady garb. But I would still let him tear my clothes off and do me in the snow if I didn’t think we might freeze to death. It’s his mouth, I think. It lures me in every time. Just like the first time . . .

  I smile shyly at him. “Thanks for dinner.”

  He’s standing at the bottom of the steps that lead up to my sorority house. God, this man is so sexy. I spent the entire dinner watching him slide bite after bite past those lips I want to nibble. The thoughts that crossed my mind were dirty, and on many occasions, he’d wink at me when my cheeks would turn crimson, which only made them burn brighter.

  Now, as I stare at him, I imagine what it would be like to kiss those lips.

  “So I guess I’ll see you in class tomorrow.” A smirk plays at his lips.

  Mine turn into a frown. “Oh, I, uh . . . Sure. Yes. Tomorrow,” I stammer out.

  After waving, I turn around and scamper off toward the door. I’ve just made it there when I hear stomping up the steps and a firm hand grips my bicep. His scent envelops me, and my knees wobble.

  “Where are you running off to, pretty girl? I was hoping I could taste those lips. I’ve been staring at them all night.”

  A helpless whimper bursts out, and I want to die from embarrassment. Turning toward him, I nearly swoon under his hungry gaze.

  “Okay.”

  I’m horrified at my stupid response, but I forget everything—including my own name—as soon as his lips graze against mine.

  His strong hand slides up my neck and into my hair. Then he slips his other one around my waist so he can pull me closer to him. Everything disappears but us. I shiver as his breath comes out in ravenous moans, which I eagerly swallow down. The lips that looked so sweet and soft, I’m discovering, are masculine, and the rough scratch of his facial hair sends currents of desire right to a part of my body that hasn’t had much experience—none, to be exact.

  “God, the things I want to do with you,” he growls as he suddenly tears himself away from me.

  Our chests are heaving, and I want to know what he means. What sort of things does he want to do to me? I hope he does them with his mouth . . .

  “So do it,” I bravely tell him. The other girls in the sorority have sex all the time with guys they don’t even like. But Bentley? I really like him.

  The animalistic sound that comes from his throat is so incredibly hot that my panties dampen. My cheeks once again burn with embarrassment.

  “That look,” he murmurs almost angrily, “does things to me. It fucking messes with my head. I’m going to taste every inch of your perfect flesh. And soon.”

  As I gape at his words, he pecks me on the cheek and then runs.

  Away from me.

  Away from my wet panties and my dirty thoughts.

  That Bentley is trouble.

  The good kind of trouble.

  A soft press of his lips on mine drags me from my memories.

  “Do you remember our first kiss?” I ask suddenly.

  He looks at me with the same angry glint in his eyes that I know, after eight years of marriage, is pure sexual want. Dipping down, he plants a kiss on my mouth.

  “Yes. I’ll never forget.”

  I bite at my lip and notice that he’s watches me carefully, licking his own.

  “Why’d you run away, then? Why did you wait until three months after dating to finally make love to me?” I demand rather fiercely.

  His muscular arms wrap around me, and he hauls me to his chest. I love the firmness that is him. He’s so strong. Solid. Sure. Warm.

  “Baby”—he kisses the top of my head—“I knew I loved you the moment our lips connected. I just had to convince you that you loved me too. When we finally had sex, we weren’t going to fuck like two sex-addicted college kids. No, when we joined with our bodies, I was going to make love to you. It just took me a few months to make sure you loved me too.”

  I stare at him openmouthed and in shock. “Bentley, that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

  “Yet. Care Bear, I have a lot of making up to do with you. Start expecting sweet shit daily to come spewing from these lips you crave so obviously.”

  Rolling my eyes, I give him a little shove. “Let’s go make fire, Romeo.”

  “How long do you think we’ve been walking?”

  He stops and stretches his back, twisting his hips around and around. “Three, maybe four hours?”

  I nod in agreement. My mouth waters for more Coke, but we
drank the rest of it a half hour ago.

  “I’m tired. Maybe we should—” I begin, but he cuts me off.

  “Shh. Do you hear that?”

  We listen in silence. I hear something too. Sounds like . . .

  “I think there’s a creek nearby. Come on!” he shouts eagerly.

  Though we were just about spent from our travels, both of us are now trudging through the snow toward what could be the key to our survival. After about twenty minutes, we make it to a rushing, freshwater creek nearly twelve feet wide.

  “Here. Hold the gun.” He passes it to me and drops the laptop bag into the snow so he can dig the empty Coke bottle out.

  Within moments, he’s shed himself of his gloves and is rinsing the bottle out with the water. Once he fills it, he stands back up and approaches me with a huge grin.

  “Drink, baby.”

  I smile as I take it from him and try not to chug. The icy water quenches my thirst, and after a few swigs, I pass it back to him.

  “This calls for a celebration,” I declare. After reaching into my pocket, I pull the package of pistachios out and dump some into my glove.

  Reluctantly, he opens his palm and accepts the nuts. “If this is a celebration, why does it feel like punishment?”

  I laugh and happily chomp down on the snack. We’ve been trying to save the chips, but I’m starving. As I tuck the package back into my pocket, I spy something beyond the creek, maybe a quarter of a mile away.

  “Bentley, what’s that? Is that a house?”

  He whips around to see where I’m pointing. After a couple of moments, he sees it too. “Holy shit, baby, I think that is a house. How the fuck are we going to get across this creek?”

  We both look up and down the body of water in hopes of a convenient tree to bridge the way.

  Nothing.

  “Fuck. We’re going to have to wade through it,” he grumbles, swiping a palm over his cheek in frustration.

  “How deep do you think it is?”

 

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