Page 48 of Loving Carter

The band starts playing again, and I brace myself. I’m not sure how much more of this my eardrums can take. But this time, the song is slow, and the decibel level is lower. Gabe and Rachel immediately stand and head for the dance floor.

I turn to Skylar. “I want to ask you to dance, but that may be a bad idea.”

She nods. “I know. I’m not sure what we should do. Everything has changed.”

She doesn’t say it, but I know it hasn’t changed for the better. I glance at the dance floor and decide to throw caution to the wind.

“Let’s dance. I know it’s not the smart move, but no one ever said I was smart,” I tease.

She doesn’t hesitate, which makes me happy, and before I know it, I have my arms wrapped around her. I consider trying to talk to her, but before I can, she runs one hand against the side of my face and kisses me.

Unlike last time, when the kisses were frantic, this kiss is slow, seductive. I savor the feel and taste of her, ending the kiss only when the music stops.

“What are we going to do?” she asks softly.

At this moment, I have lots of ideas, but none of them are smart. “We need to talk about what’s happening when we’re both not feeling so...” I wave one hand. “Amorous.”

My comment makes her laugh, then she walks with me off the dance floor.

When we reach the table, Gabe says, “Well, well.”

“Jerk,” I tell him.

Then I look at Skylar. Since we met here tonight at the bar, she drove herself. “Why don’t I walk you to your car? We can talk in the morning.”

She gathers her purse, and we walk out of the bar. When we reach her car, we kiss again.

“This is a new habit we seem to have developed,” I tease.

“A really nice habit,” is all she says. Then she gets in her car and drives off.

“A really nice habit that probably won’t end well,” I mutter to myself as I walk to my truck. Once I’m away from her and the heated fog in my brain settles, I realize a few important things. I’m not interested in a relationship right now. Not with anyone. I want to recover what I lost. That may seem selfish, but life has taught me you have to do what you want to do before your chance slips away.

I like Skylar. A lot. And as I’ve discovered recently, I really like kissing her. I think she feels the same way. But that’s not enough to tear up all the plans I have, and it would be unfair to her to pretend it is.

Tomorrow, we need to talk about this. Maybe we can find a compromise. I could always come back for visits fairly often, and she could come to Dallas now and then. A long-distance relationship might work, but then again, it might not. Sooner or later, she may want to get married because she’s mentioned it before as part of her life plan. I’m not interested in getting married. I spent all of my teens and most of my twenties helping raise my brothers. That sort of family life just doesn’t appeal to me.

I get into my truck. I have no idea what the two of us should do, and I have a feeling that whatever we decide is going to make at least one of us unhappy.

***

IN THE MORNING, I HAVEevery intention of heading into town and having breakfast at Skylar’s bakery, but I forgot the latest guests are leaving today. I send a quick text to Skylar and suggest we meet later. Then I start handling the checkouts as the families come to the office. Thankfully, everyone seems to have had a positive experience. They’re laughing and joking, which is good. The boy with the destructive affinity is leaving today, which is also good since I’m not sure how much more our equipment can take.

I’m working on the bill for a family from Dallas when the husband asks, “You’re Carter Warren, right?”

I was printing his bill, but now I look up. Other than from here at the ranch, I’ve never seen this man before.

“I am. What can I do for you?”

“I meant to talk to you this whole week, but we’ve been so busy with the activities, I never got the chance.” He drapes his arms around the two children standing at his sides. “The kiddos have had a terrific time. You used to work for McAllister and Debry, right?”

“Yes, I worked for them.” I’m still trying to remember this man. I’m sure we didn’t work together. The office wasn’t that big. I have seen him around the dude ranch, but the younger people handle the activities with the visitors. I handle the paperwork, so I haven’t talked to him before.

“My name is Burt Schroeder. You did amazing work for them. I’m really happy to meet you.”

He shakes my hand. “I was trying to headhunt you when you left,” he says. “But then I heard you had a family issue to take care of.” He looks around the small office with its tiny checkout counter. “I take it you came here.”

“It’s a family business,” I say, not too thrilled to talk about what I currently consider as my previous life. It makes me jittery.

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