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“You only came to Alaska to leave your stepfather behind?” he asks, his tone harsh as he rakes his hand through his hair.
“I did,” I confess guiltily. and I can see my words hit him and I know the exact moment they wound. I want to close my eyes against the pain I’m causing him, but I force myself to witness it.
I deserve this.
“So you’ve been playing me this entire time? I was just a pawn in some game? You whored yourself out to stay away from your stepfather? He must really be a bastard,” Stone growls, standing up.
His head grazes the top of the tent, but the anger and hurt coming off of him is nearly crippling. His words wound me, but even as they deliver their blow, I know I deserve them. I swallow hard, trying to wade through the pain, to get my thoughts together.
“Nothing about being with you here in Alaska has been a lie, Stone. I care about you. If I didn’t, I never would have given myself to you,” I tell him quietly.
“I’d really like to believe that, but since you’ve been lying from day one, I find I can’t,” he growls, turning to leave.
“Where are you going?” I ask, feeling panicked. I know it was stupid, but I was hoping that he would somehow magically forgive me and we’d kiss and everything would be okay… better than okay. I had hoped he cared about me as much as I cared about him…
I was wrong.
“I’m leaving. I need to clear my head,” he growls. “Stay inside the tent. You’ll be fine.”
With that, he disappears. I watch the tent door flap behind him and I stare at it feeling like my world is ending.
Chapter Eighteen
Stone
I’ve been out here by the creek for hours. Hell, I’m not even sure how long. It’s dark now. I’m a fucking asshole, because I don’t even know if Carly knows how to light the lantern. I shouldn’t have left her alone for so long, but I just couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that I spent so much time getting to know someone, time starting to care about a woman… who wasn’t even real.
I still can’t sort out exactly how I feel about everything. I do know that it was her in my bed. It was her that I’ve been living with, and it was definitely her virginity I claimed. If I erase the letters, and all the other bullshit, that’s what I’m left with. I was intrigued by Carly before she came here, but I was completely prepared to send her back home if things hadn’t worked out. It was her picture that called to me, and not because she was beautiful—though she was. It was the look in her eyes.
I pull out my wallet and look at the faded picture I’ve been keeping there since I got a response to my email. The camera had caught Carly unaware. She’s bent down, laughing at something an old man at the diner is saying. She’s wearing a faded pink waitress uniform with a white apron. Her beautiful dark hair is pulled up on top of her head. She’s beautiful, but what captures me in the picture is that even though she’s smiling, even though she is caught mid laugh, her eyes look as if they hold answers.
Answers to questions I’ve had my whole life.
Carly might not have been the woman I corresponded with, but she is the woman I’ve had in my bed. She’s the woman I married and ultimately, she’s the woman I want to keep. There’s a lot to work out between us, but that’s the bottom line.
Too bad it took me all evening and for the sun to go down for me to realize it.
I slowly make my way back to the camp, still a little lost, but at least I have my mind made up. There’s no lantern glow inside the tent and I feel like a fucking loser. The only bright spot is that there’s no sound either. Hopefully Carly fell asleep; that way she won’t even know how long it took me to get my head out of my ass. I should have my ass kicked, actually. It’s too dangerous to leave her out here alone, because odds are she’s never been camping before.
I walk into the tent. From the moonlight shining through the opened flap, I see a bundle in the far corner of the sleeping pad I made. Carly is buried under that pile somewhere, and I feel guilt. She probably cried herself to sleep. That’s on me. Regardless of what’s going on between us, I vowed to never hurt her and I did.
I kick off my boots and trip over a bag. I frown. I didn’t leave my bag there. Why would Carly go through it? I grab it and I want to put it beside hers, but I can’t find it. I turn on the lantern on the floor and instantly the tent is bathed with light. Carly doesn’t make a move—or a sound. That’s my first concern, but the bigger one is that Carly’s bag is gone and what’s more… her boots are gone too. I left them by the front of the bed to try them on her tomorrow and they’re gone.
