“Do you know what’s playing?”

“Nope. But it’ll be dark, you’ll be next to me so I don’t really care.” Did that make him sound smarmy? He changed the subject. “So tell me about your day.”

“My mom’s friend Maxine Granger stopped by. She takes in mending and ironing, plus she does alterations and some custom tailoring. Maxine’s daughter had a baby and she’ll be gone to Kansas for at least a month. She’s asked me to fulfill her sewing and alterations jobs during that time. Which will work out because I can do it from home.”

“Won’t that be a lot of work?”

She shrugged. “I’m used to it. I think my fingers are finally healed from last summer.”

He frowned. “What’d you do last summer?”

“Same thing I’ve done every summer since I was twelve. Lived with my aunt and assisted her in the custom tailoring business she owns. It’s a family thing on mother’s side. My mom used to be an amazing seamstress and she started teaching me to sew when I was five. Then because of the arthritis…” She cleared her throat. “Aunt Hulda took over since she’s a seamstress too. She paid for our private schooling and in exchange I worked in her shop on weekends and half the summer.”

It’d be hypocritical if Carson said expecting a twelve-year-old girl to help out was child slavery; he’d been doing chores and learning the ways of the ranch since he was a boy. “Those sewing skills are obvious because you’re always wearin’ such nice clothes. Did you make ’em?”

Carolyn smoothed her hand down her skirt. “Yes. Do you like them?”

“Yes, I surely do like that you look like you stepped out of a magazine.” But I’d really like to see those pretty clothes in a pile on my bedroom floor. Or the floor of this truck.

Pervert. Slowing things down, remember?

They parked in front of the movie theater. Arabesque didn’t look all that interesting to him—he preferred a western—but with one theater in town there wasn’t much choice. Unless… “Want to go to the drive-in? There’s gotta be something better playing.”

“I’ve never been to a drive-in. Sounds like fun.”

They joined the line of cars waiting to get in to see El Dorado—a John Wayne picture he’d looked forward to seeing.

Once inside the lot, Carson chose a spot away from the high school partiers. “You want popcorn or a pop?”

“I’d take a Coke.”

“Stay here. I’ll get it.”

She looked at him funny.

“What?”

“Embarrassed to be seen with me, McKay?”

“You caught me. It’s such a chore to have a beautiful, classy blonde on my arm. Come on, then.” He helped her out, keeping his hand on her lower back as they crossed the gravel parking lot to the concession stand.

Just after they’d cleared the line he ran into Jim Hagar, a guy he’d graduated from high school with. “Carson McKay at a drive-in? What, are all the local bars closed for some reason?”

Given his reputation, he probably deserved that. But also given his reputation, Jim oughta know Carson had no problem popping a loudmouth for a smart comment.

A boy of about two and girl of about four, both wearing pajamas, were running around, weaving between Jim’s legs, yelling and hitting each other. He snapped, “Knock it off.” Then he looked at Carson. “Bringing the kids to the drive-in gets me’n Barb outta the house without having to pay a sitter.”

“I wouldn’t know.”

Jim’s gaze landed on Carolyn. “This your wife?”

“No.”

“I’m not surprised a wild man like you ain’t married yet. What was it you used to say? You’d strap on that old ball and chain only when you were too old to keep running from the women trying to shackle you.”

“Yeah, well, we all say shit at sixteen that makes us cringe now. If I recall you said you wanted Barb for one thing—her oral skills, and not the ones she used to become a Declam contest champion.”

Jim blushed. Then he said, “Come on kids,” and hustled away.

“Good friend of yours?” Carolyn asked dryly.

“How’d you guess? Livin’ in the same area I’m forever branded by stuff I’ve done in the past.”

She stopped and faced him. “Are you bothered by what he said?”

“No. That kinda shit always dribbles out of his mouth.” He touched her cheek. “But that doesn’t mean I wanted you to hear it.”

“While he was saying that stuff about you, I watched his ankle biters throwing rocks at each other. I was hoping they’d miss and hit him.”

Carson laughed.

Once they reached his pickup, he opened the passenger side and slid in next to her, then draped her across his lap. “What? You think I’d rather have a steering wheel in my lap than you?”

“No complaining if your legs fall asleep. Or if I fall asleep.”

He swept her hair from her face. “Been thinkin’ about how much I’d like to have you fallin’ asleep in my arms.”

She touched the brim of his hat. “Take this off. It bumps my face when you kiss me and it keeps me from running my fingers through your hair.” As soon as he set it on the seat beside her, her hands were on his head, nails gliding over his scalp. “Your hair is like black silk. Not too long. Not too short. Why hide it under a hat?”