Athica Lane: The Carpino Series (25 page)

It’s Monday morning and our last day here as we’re leaving tomorrow, bright and early.  After breakfast, Kipp took Jordy fishing and Cara got busy in the kitchen with Hattie, probably frying something or cooking with butter.  Hattie must buy it by the case.

Cam put me in a camouflaged, oversized-four-wheeling-golf-cart-looking-thing and drove us far off onto the ranch somewhere.  When we arrived at our destination, there was another barn, but much smaller than the main one in back of the house.  There are targets set up that back to a wide open range.  When we got inside, Cam unlocks an enormous safe containing a shitload of guns in all shapes and sizes.

“Don’t flinch,” he says in my ear.

“I can’t help it,” I say, extending my arms, aiming at the target that’s about thirty yards away. 

I hold the gun that Cam said was small enough, I can’t remember the name of it or what the numbers meant that followed.  It all sounded like gobbledygook to me.  I’ve never been a gun person even though the men in my family are hunters.  My cousin Gabby loves to shoot and usually carries a gun.  I think she’s a little crazy for it.  The last thing I want is for someone to ask me for a piece of gum and while digging around my purse for a minty chew, say, “Oh, here it is, right next to my gun.”  Who does that? 

Well, I guess Gabby does.

“This is why you should have stayed in boot camp.  Keep your arms strong, darlin’.  Brace yourself, aim and squeeze,” he says.  He’s plastered to my back with his big arms wrapped around mine holding them steady.  It’s a little hard to concentrate when I’m surrounded by his big hard body.  He bosses, “Try again.”

I look through the sight of my small gun and squeeze.  Lowering my arms, I look at my target, finding it went high and right.  At least I hit the paper this time.  Good for me.

I look up and complain, “It’s hard to concentrate when you’re pressed up against me.”

He narrows his eyes, dropping an arm to my tummy, “Is it?”

“You know it is,” I say before adding, “I should start my period any day, you know.”

“Birth control time?” he asks.

“Yep,” I smile.

“No more condoms?” he goes on grinning, as if he didn’t know.

I shake my head saying, “Apparently it’s better that way.  I wouldn’t know.”

“Oh, it’s more than better,” he says, moving away from me.

Cam pulls the gun out of my hand and pointing it toward the ground, he releases the magazine.  Then he does a whole clickety-clack thing and another bullet springs from the top.  He tosses it all on the old weathered table sitting next to us and pulls my back to his chest again.  Before I know it, he yanks the button on my jean shorts and as quick as a snap, his hand dips straight into my panties.

“Cam,” I call.  “We’re outside.”

“I know,” he says against the side of my head as his fingers move. 

I grab his arm, but he keeps at me when I say, “What if someone comes?”

“No one’s going to come,” he says.  I feel him smile against my temple, “You just told me you’ll be off limits for a few days.  I’ve got to take advantage of you while I can.  Not to mention, you can be as loud as you want out here, we won’t be in a room between the kids and my sister.”

This is true.  We’ve had silent sex ever since we got here, and that’s not easy to do.  I didn’t even want to share a room.  It felt weird sleeping together, let alone having sex in his parents’ house.  He told me it was fine and if I argued or tried to sleep elsewhere, he’d pick me up and bring me right back.  I figured that would be more embarrassing than sharing a room with him under his parents’ roof, so I caved.  I never imagined silent sex with Cam would be so good.  I got to listen to him breathe heavy and I never would’ve known Cam can breathe sexy, but he does during silent sex.  One more thing to make me weak.

His free hand comes up to cup my breast while the other reaches further, sliding a finger inside me.  I lean my head back on his chest and exhale, “Please, Cam.  Being outside makes me nervous.”

I feel both hands give me a squeeze before he releases me and grabs my hand, “We’ll go to the barn.”

Sex in a barn.  I’m checking off all kinds of firsts this trip.

“God-willing, I’ll be better at barn sex than shooting a target,” I say as he pulls me along.

He slams the door shut, “I promise you’ll be better at barn sex.”

“I don’t know if that’s a compliment or not,” I say, but he doesn’t answer.  I go on, “It’s hot in here.  Your dad needs a Big Ass Fan.”

He ignores me and his hands come back to my shorts, surprising me by yanking them down, pulling my panties with them.  Picking me up at the waist, he steps on my shorts and panties pulling them off with my flip-flops. 

“Cam!” I yell.

“Brace your hands on the wall,” he says as he turns me away from him, his voice dipping.

“Why?”

He doesn’t explain, he takes my hands in his and places them against the wall.  He leans down to my ear and whispers, “Baby, be still and quit talking.  Now keep your hands here and try not to move.”

“Cam,” I start.

“Darlin’,” he cups me between my legs from the back, making me jump.  A finger slides inside me at the same time another hits my clit.  He does this a time or three before he repeats, “Quit talking.”

“Okay,” I mutter, leaning further into the wall and can’t help but tip my bottom back for him.

“There’s my sweet,” he murmurs into the side of my head as he stands flush to my side.  He warms me with his fingers and I find myself reaching for his touch.  When he lightens his strokes, I can’t help but complain with a moan and he asks, “You want more?”

I lift my eyes and see him looking down at me, “Yes.”

“You think you can move for me?  Find it on my hand?”

I instantly frown, “No.”

He leans down to kiss me first and at my lips he says softly, “You can.  Move, baby.”

“I’ve told you I don’t like that.  You do it better,” I plead and he gives me a couple stronger swipes before making it lighter again.  He’s tried to get me to touch myself for him and I just can’t.  I’ve explained it’s not the same, however he’s persistent.  But right now I can’t help but move, searching for him. 

“There you go,” he encourages, his goatee tickling my ear.

I keep moving and he keeps teasing, making me search.  I feel myself getting close, but he keeps pulling back, forcing me to reach for it.  And I do.  I can’t help but reach for it, moving to find his touch.  Finally, he gives me a little more of his hand, a flick of my clit and I gasp.  I have to lean into the wall so my legs don’t buckle.   Through my gasps I hear a tear.  Looking over, I see he’s ripping a condom open in his teeth and he’s already undone his jeans. 

He pulls away from me and makes quick work of his task, saying, “I can’t wait to do away with these.”  Putting his hands to my bare bottom, he lifts me up before turning me to the wall where he says, “Hang on.”

I wrap my legs around his waist, clutching his shoulders as he lowers me, impaling me on his cock.

“I’ll never get used to the look on your face when you take me,” he says in a low voice, pressing my back to the wall of the barn.  “Your eyes, your face.  The instant I slide into you, you make the world fall away for me, baby.  Only you can do that for me.  I fucking love that.  And it’s all mine.”

We’re face to face as he’s moving inside me now, driving up and I feel him stretching me as he gives me something new.  We’ve never had sex against a wall, much less in a barn.  I feel all his strong muscles flex with each thrust as he easily holds me.  I do my best to rock my hips with his and he moves harder, faster.

Because he’s easily holding me tight, I let go of his shoulders and push my hands into his hair, looking into his bright blue eyes.  They droop and he tips his forehead to mine slamming into me one last time, pressing me tight to the wall.  I wrap my legs around him and he brings a hand up to the side of my face, his eyes searing into mine. 

“I like you here,” he says through labored breaths.  “I like you here with my family.  By you giving me your sweet, baby, you’re giving me everything.  I’ve never had this before.  Fuck, I didn’t even know it existed.”

I drag one of my hands to his cheek and looking into his beautiful blue eyes, I whisper, “I want to give you everything.” 

He closes his eyes slowly and presses the side of his face to mine.  A moment later, he tips his head enough to kiss me, slow and sweet.  Wrapping his arms around me, one goes under my bottom and the other up my back, his hand sneaking into my hair.  We stay like this for many long moments, Cam still inside me with him holding me up against a barn wall.  His mood seems weighty, thoughtful.  I hang on and file this into my memory bank, hoping I never forget. 

“What should I do next?” I ask Hattie as I go to the sink to drain the grease off the hamburger I just browned.

We’re working in the kitchen preparing dinner.  After Cam and I got back from shooting and having barn sex, the kids wanted to swim one more time.  I just got out of the shower while Cam and the kids went off somewhere with Kipp. 

Hattie talks a mile a minute.  I’ve learned over the course of my time in Texas that she spends most of her time in the kitchen and she loves game shows.  She told me when she discovered the Game Show Network on satellite TV, she was so excited she “almost tinkled her panties.” 

We’re making what she told me was one of Cam’s favorite dishes, Mexican Casserole, and watching an old rerun of Family Feud.  Cam seems to eat everything I make with gusto, I had no idea Mexican Casserole was a favorite.  I was making mental notes, but the more ingredients she pulls out, I’ve decided to come up with my own version.

“Don’t drain too much o’ the grease, it adds flavor,” she warns me.  I cringe internally and quickly drain as much as I can before she knocks me caddywompas.  “Mix that with the beans, onions, green chilies and sour cream.  Then we’ll layer it with the tortillas and smother it at the end.”

I’m afraid to ask what we’re going to “smother” it with, but I do as I’m told. 

“I can’t tell you how surprised we were when Cam called and said he was bringin’ you home,” she says in a serious tone that I’ve never heard.  Her tone forces me to still at the sink before turning with the huge pan of browned hamburger in my hands.  Hattie’s eyes are on her task, stirring something with vigor at the island, probably the smothering ingredients.  She doesn’t look up when she says to the bowl, “That woman did a number on him.  God forgive me when I say, I hope she burns in hell.”

I don’t know what to say.  There’s really nothing to say other than I agree, but that doesn’t seem appropriate.  Instead, I haul my hamburger to the layering ingredients that are ready to mix.

Hattie doesn’t need any help conversing and goes on, “Years, that woman moaned and complained about her life.  She wouldn’t be happy if Jesus came down and handed her a five dollar bill.   Wanted, wanted, wanted, that woman did.  Cam did what he could and worked hard to make her happy, but it was all for naught.  Now don’t you tell a soul,” she finally looks up and points her cheesy spoon in my direction.  “As much as I wanted my Cam to come home and work for Kipp, I was always secretly happy he never brought her here to live.  She’s meaner than a sack full o’ rattle snakes.  And stupid,” she flicks the spoon, cheesy mixture flipping across the island before she sticks it back in the bowl.  “When Cam called and told us about her latest stunt, stealin’ peoples private information, I shouldn’t’ve been surprised, but still, I ‘bout fell off my rocker.”

“Yes, that was stupid,” I agree.

“And Cam told us what you did,” she gives me her serious face.  “You stepped in to keep my grandbabies safe, so I loved you before you crossed the Red River into Texas.  But don’t ever do anything like that again, you hear?”

“I hope I won’t ever have to,” I say.

“No, you won’t,” she agrees emphatically, stirring away.  “Your daddy made sure my Cam’ll have his babies for good, although I wish he’d send a bill.  Your daddy sounds like a good man.  But I shouldn’t question that, he raised you.”

“Thanks, Hattie.  He is,” I smile.

“But that woman,” she continues as she slops two bricks of softened cream cheese into the already thick mixture.  “Cam could barely get a business loan because of the credit card debt she jacked up behind his back.  And he wouldn’t let us give him the money or take it out of his Trust.  He went it alone, just like always.  He might as well of been a single dad before he finally left her for good.  She was always out with her stupid girlfriends, never being a mama to her kids.  One time, she showed up drunk to Jordy’s preschool. Drunk, if you can believe.  He was playing the part of Joseph in the Nativity and she showed up snockered after having drinks at lunch.  I wouldn’t’ve believed it if we weren’t there to see it with our own eyes.  Cam had to pull her outta the building ‘cause she was cheerin’, making a spectacle.  And don’t even get me started on her showin’ up to Highland football games looking like a Saturday Night Special on Broadway just to get attention.  She embarrassed Cam more times than a hen can lay eggs.”

I stand here at the layering station with my mouth gaping.  Cam said Bekki put him through hell, but I never in my wildest dreams imagined he had to deal with all that.  No wonder he doesn’t want to talk about her.  But all this makes me uncomfortable.  Cam hasn’t shared any of this, not that he owes it to me.  It feels weird learning it from his mom and not him. 

“Hattie – ” I try to tell her to stop, but she ignores me.

“As happy as I am he’s rid of her for good, I hated the way it happened for my Cam.  When he walked in on her with that man in their bed, I’m surprised he didn’t come outta his skin.  He kicked her out then and there, hardly lettin’ her come back to get her stuff,” she says.

Holy shit. Bekki cheated on him? 

“Then she tries to make sweet, doin’ everything she could to get him back ‘cause she knew she was put out to pasture.  She even tried to work her way back in through us.  Well, don’t pee down my back and tell me it’s raining.  We cut her out quicker than snot.  My poor Cam, even during the divorce she – ”

“Hattie,” I interrupt.  “Cam hasn’t told me any of this.”

She stops stirring and looks surprised, “He hasn’t?”

“No,” I say.  “He told me it was bad, really bad.  He doesn’t like to talk about it.”

“Well,” she exhales.  “Why would he?  I guess I’ll stop, but I have to say, we’re happier than a dog with two peters he found you.  I haven’t seen my Cam this happy in a long time.  And the way you are with my grandbabies is a cherry on my sundae.” 

“Thanks,” I say giving her a small smile but do it with a pit in my stomach.  I hate that Cam went through all that and I have a feeling she barely hit the tip of the iceberg.  But I hate more that Cam doesn’t know that I know.  That makes me feel weird and I’m going to have to find a way to tell him. 

“Get that mixed,” she bosses me.  “Then you can go find Cam.  They’re probably in the media room.”

“Sound good,” I say.

We mix, layer, layer and layer again.  Just when I think the oversized pan is full, Hattie hefts the huge bowl of cheesy mixture and smothers it, letting it sink down into the meat and tortillas.  Then, if it can be believed, she tops it with what looks like ten pounds of shredded cheddar cheese. 

She goes to the sink and says, “Put that in the oven, will you?”

“Sure,” I say, lugging it to her fancy oven that looks a little like Cam’s.  Holy shit, this thing is heavier than a Thanksgiving turkey stuffed to the gills.  I’m going to have to go on a major diet when I get home.  I close the oven and think that boot camp would not have only helped me shooting, but also eating at the Montgomery’s. 

*****

“Look at you go,” Jordy says without looking away from the screen. 

“I wasn’t bad,” I say, turning Griff in my arms.  We’re reclining in a chair and I’m holding him on my chest while he reaches for my face.  My brother-in-law needs to get off the fucking phone and spend some time with his family. 

“There you are,” I hear her and turn. 

She walks in with damp hair, letting it dry on its own with a wave.  I can’t help but think about her in the barn this morning.  She’s come a long way and every day I have with her, she plants that seed in me deeper.  In fact, it’s starting to sprout and grow.  I can’t keep it at bay any longer.

“We’re watching dad’s old games,” Jordy says.

“Really?” she smiles and settles on the arm of my chair, giving me her soft face.  “I get to see you play football?”

“Jordy likes to watch me run,” I say.

“My boy was faster than a bell clapper in a goose’s ass,” Kipp says.

Jordy laughs and Paige asks, “What number were you?”

“Thirty-three,” I say, bouncing Griff.

“Watch Paige, here he goes,” Jordy says, knowing this play by heart.  He always gets my dad to pull my old college games when we’re here.

Paige looks to the big screen where a much younger me runs out to tag a long throw, turning to outrun the defense for the touchdown.  She looks down with big eyes and says grinning, “You
were
fast.  Did you have a touchdown dance?”

“Darlin’, only an idiot celebrates a job he’s expected to do.  Isn’t that right Jordy?”

Jordy rolls his eyes, clearly thinking it’s fun to celebrate and mutters, “I guess.”

“I didn’t know Mexican Casserole was your favorite,” Paige states with a half grin.  “But now I know how to make it.”

Before I answer, I hear and feel Griff fill his diaper as he sits on me.  I instantly pick him up under his arms and move to stand.  Jordy makes a face like he’s grossed out.  I look down at Paige and kiss on top of her head, “It was when I was ten.  Beef Wellington’s my new favorite.  I’m gonna give him to Ellie.  I’ve changed all the diapers I plan on changing.  Those days are behind me.  She can do it.  Dinner almost ready?”

She looks up to me with surprise before blinking it away and says, “About fifteen minutes, I think.”

“Great, I’m starving,” I move around her to get Griff to Ellie before he stinks up the house. 

*****

I pull in my driveway and watch the door go up with her car parked inside.  The kids jump out, tired of being in the car for over twelve hours and are ready to run off some energy.  I look over and Paige is collecting all her bags from her feet.  She had more snacks stashed away for the kids on the ride home.  They were so happy, I’m not sure they’ll ever be able to go on a road trip without a “goodie bag.”

But Paige has been different since last night. Not quiet, but not herself.  When I asked about it before bed, she said she had cramps and was expecting her period.  I’ve only been with her for six weeks, but she didn’t act like this last month.  She said she was tired and tucked into me, hung on tight and fell asleep in my arms.  I know it took her longer to find sleep than normal because she always rolls away.  When she finally did, she slept fitfully, twisting and turning. 

I know this, too, since I’ve developed a habit of reaching for her and she woke me multiple times through the night.

This morning she put on a fake face to say goodbye to my family, not to mention all day in the car with the kids and me.  She worked quietly for hours on her phone, saying she was catching up on her blog, responding to followers and planning for the following week.  She might be behind, but I can’t imagine this is all because of her period and work, but who knows.  It’s been a long time since I’ve been around a woman twenty-four seven, and I can’t count Bekki as a normal woman. 

Maybe it is.  But I have a feeling it’s not and I couldn’t talk about it on the way home with the kids listening.

She heaves her stuff up on her shoulder, collecting her things.  I follow suit, meeting her in front of the garage where she’s heading to her car.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

She doesn’t look at me when she says, “I’m so behind, I think I’m gonna go home tonight.  You know, get a few hours of work in, maybe catch up before tomorrow.”

“Paige?” I call for her and she looks up to me, her eyes tired.  “What in the hell’s wrong?”

She frowns and gives her head a shake, “Nothing.  I’m just behind on work and need to do laundry.  I’ve got a big event coming up.  I need to get back into it.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” I bite out, stepping closer and bring a hand to her face.  “You’ve done all that shit here for the last five weeks.  You’ve turned funny.  Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

“Cam, please,” she starts and brings her hands up to my arm.  “I’m tired, I don’t feel good and I’m behind. I need to go home.  Just give me one night.”

“I don’t like you there,” I say, because I don’t.  I want her here.  There’s something about her apartment I don’t like.  I felt it the first time I stepped through her door.

She ignores me and says, “I’ll call you tomorrow.  Tell the kids goodnight, they’ve already run off to stretch and play.  I’ll be fine.”

My hand tenses on her face and I look down into her tired brown eyes.  The gold flecks framing the brown are dull compared to normal.  I lean down to kiss her and she comes up on her toes to reach me, deepening my kiss.  I pull her to me and wrap her up tight. 

Before I want her to, she pulls away and I plead, “Baby, stay.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” she says turning me down.

I exhale and want to say something, force her to tell me what’s going on, but I either don’t know what to say or can’t make myself say it.  I close my eyes and pull her to me, kissing her forehead.

I fucking don’t want to, but I let her go and watch her walk to her car, throwing her bags in the trunk.  I stand in my driveway and want to fucking scream as I watch her pull out and maneuver around my car, driving away from me on Athica Lane. 

“Where’s she going?” Jordy asks, running up to me and I hear Cara’s dog barking, excited we’re home.