“Let me put my shoes back on. I want out of here,” she says, her voice clearly upset.
“You can’t wear those damn shoes. You won’t be able to wear any shoes for days.”
“I have to wear shoes, Stone. Just put them on and I’ll walk to the bottom and go home—go to your place.” The way she clarified home to just my place doesn’t escape my notice. I let it slide—for now.
“Have you lied to me about other things, Carly?” I ask her as I shuffle through her backpack and find a pair of my thick socks. I don’t have anything to clean her feet with, which they desperately need, but for now this will keep her from getting cold.
“Not intentionally,” she mumbles as I stuff her ruined socks and boots in the backpack.
“What does that mean?” I ask as I throw both backpacks on my shoulder. I reach over and slip my hand under her knees and the other at her back and lift her up, as I stand.
“What are you doing?” she asks, her hands biting into my shoulder.
“I’m packing you up the hill.”
“What? Why? We need to go back down the hill.”
“I can’t hike down the hill carrying you. It’s too damn dangerous. If I’m carrying you, it will take over four hours to get to the bottom.”
“Then let me walk!”
“How about you tell me what else you’ve been lying about instead?” I counter and start walking up the hill.
This honeymoon hasn’t exactly started out like I planned.
Chapter Seventeen
Carly
“Here, you need to eat,” Stone says, handing me what looks like a piece of jerky.
“I don’t like jerky,” I tell him. Which technically isn’t a lie. I haven’t tasted it before, but just on looks alone, I’m pretty sure I hate it.
“I’m too tired to fish or do any of the things I planned this evening, so you’ll eat this.”
“No. I won’t,” I insist. I’ve really reached my limit. I might care for Stone and I realize most of this problem is because of me, but I refuse to eat something that looks like it was chewed up and spit out by a cow and then dried in the hot sun.
That’s just not happening.
“Fine. I’ll go see if I can catch some fish for your majesty,” Stone grumbles, getting up.
“I wouldn’t bother. Even if you do, I wouldn’t eat it,” I mumble, lying back on the sleeping bag and wishing I could get back to Stone’s house and pack.
“Let me guess. You don’t eat fish either?”
“I eat fish just fine. When it’s at a restaurant with indoor plumbing and a waiter!”
“Now we’re getting to see the real Carly.”
“So sorry to disappoint you!”
“You lied about being an outdoor lover too, I guess? That’s kind of stupid since you were considering moving here full time,” he growls. He’s sitting across the spacious tent, but it’s still not big enough. I don’t want him here. Not now—not like this.
“I didn’t lie!”
“Really? So you love camping, hiking and trail riding?”
“I might like those things. I don’t know! I’ve never done them!”
“Then why did you tell me you had?” he asks, and if I wasn’t so mad, I would have noticed that Stone is being very thoughtful with his questions, his anger no longer present. I don’t really pay attention to that, however—because my mouth is being ruled by my own anger.
“I didn’t! Tally did!”
“Who in the hell is Tally?”
“The lady I work with at the diner.”
“I think you better explain this shit, Carly.”
I look at Stone. I really look at him. He’s beautiful in a wild, untouchable kind of way. He’s also way out of my league. Maybe it’s because there are truly not a lot of women here in this part of Alaska. I don’t know. What I do know is that in the normal, everyday world that I live in, Stone would never go for a woman like me—not in a million years.
I also know that I’m tired. I don’t want to lie to Stone. I care about him. I think in time I could even love him. Maybe I already do… at least I’m more than half-way there. I owe him the truth.
The complete truth—no matter how much it hurts.
“I never wrote you from that website, Stone. I never exchanged emails with you.”
“You never…”
“It wasn’t me. It was Tally. She did it for me, because I was drowning at home. I needed an escape, a way out, and Tally wanted to give that to me. She found you as my ticket out of Cranville.”
“Why did you need a ticket out of Cranville?” he asks, his face completely closed.
“A very long and sordid story involving my stepfather, but it’s not important in the end. I broke down on her and that’s when she confessed she had been writing you. She showed me a few of your letters, she showed me your picture, and she helped me pack and leave.”