Chapter 12
EASTON
“Let’s hear a bear-iffic cheer, married campers. Welcome to Yellowstone’s most established—and most likely to get you pregnant—marriage retreat!” Sheila, Dirty Dan’s right-hand woman, greets us at the start of the campfire sing-along.
“What in the actual fuck is happening right now?” A forceful nudge at my side alerts me that I said that out loud.
“Down, brown bear.” This woman and her wilderness puns.
I swing my head toward Collie. “She just said bear-iffic, Collie. So, yeah. What in the actual fuck is happening and why are we here?”
She waves me off. “We don’t have to stay long. It just seemed important that we show our faces. Besides, we aren’t the only married couple here. It’s a marriage retreat, remember?”
“We aren’t fucking married.” Surely I’m not crazy for thinking this is nuts.
A giggle escapes her. “Shhhh. Only you and I know that, Ranger. Don’t tell our secret. Pretty sure Dirty Dan would be crushed.”
Does this woman find humor in everything?
I shake my head and use this moment to observe the other couples.
There are roughly eight couples in total, and not a single person looks excited to be here.
Dirty Dan dances his way around the circle of us, body flailing like a giant ape with a fur coat.
Not one person joins him…but I have a feeling my fake wife will be the first to do it.
Feels weird even calling Collie and me a couple. Although, she doesn’t seem fazed by it. In fact, the girl looks next to giddy.
“We need a game plan.”
“Stop being a poor sport,” Collie whispers in my ear. I’m so caught up in my own annoyance, I didn’t realize how close she is. “Follow my lead, okay? We’re in this together, remember? Don’t overthink it.”
She must sense I’m no good at faking it because she has no problem taking charge, and honestly, I hate that. I like to know what comes next. So to be here and feel completely out of my wheelhouse drives me mad.
We stand back listening to Sheila give us the rundown on what to expect moving forward. Two weeks. Just two weeks of pretending Collie is my wife. I can do that. At this point, I’m a chameleon.
Catching me off guard, a soft hand reaches to grasp mine, and I instantly go still. My insides freeze, and my chest grows tight.
She’s holding my hand.
It looks completely normal amidst the other couples. They are on their honeymoons, after all.
We, however, are not. This is us playing the part.
My body must have forgotten that because it’s on high alert, overwhelmed with an unfamiliar feeling, all from a beautiful woman holding my fucking hand. I can’t count the number of times I held Sydney’s hand. Hundreds of thousands. But it never felt like this.
Electric.
It’s because it’s been so long. Yeah, that’s it. It’s not Collie I’m affected by; it’s the touch of a woman in general.
A woman who isn’t my dead brother’s fiancé.
Fuck, I miss him. He’d be laughing his ass off if he were here with me. Planning all the ways we would make this trip as ridiculous as possible, and somehow get drunk off our asses, winding up in a ditch somewhere.
Never knew I’d crave something so careless. I have a sinking feeling he’s looking down on me with an entirely different opinion right now.
His brother, who abandoned the woman he promised to protect.
Those are feelings I need to start processing. Maybe with therapy. Maybe having tough conversations that provide closure. Or maybe here—in Wyoming.
I want to be careless. But I think I forgot how. Maybe that’s why something as simple as holding Collie’s hand feels risky. Like this trip is just getting started, and I haven’t even seen the half of what’s to come.
Folk music begins to play as Sheila takes the mic again. “Allow me to introduce you campers to the one and only Bert Bartholomew.” She points to the tall and lanky man with a fiddle beside her. “Bert, take it away.”
Bert nods, instructing us to chime in. “Sing along with me, lovebirds. The night has just begun.”
“Yeah, let’s dip,” Collie whispers, and thank the fucking stars we’re in agreement. I don’t need to hear Bert sing to know my ears will bleed. She drags me to follow as we hightail it out of here, not daring to find Dirty Dan’s disappointed stare from across the fire.
“I could use some of that sugar you got in those bags, lost girl. Feelin’ up for it?”
“Hell yes.” Collie jumps up and down. “You got the alcohol?”
I nod. “Plenty to last us the next week.”
“Fill me up.”
Tequila shoots from my lips as surprise overtakes me. “Jesus.”
Collie’s hand covers her mouth as the most feminine giggles escape her lips. “I guess that came out wrong.” She holds her disposable shot glass out to me. “Another shot, please.”
I fill up her cup. “Still can’t get over how direct you are. And I’ve met a lot of people in my life.”
Her head drops slightly, and I hate it. “You have no idea how many times I’ve heard that,” she tells me honestly.
I’d hate to make an unwarranted judgement of her, but it’s hard not to. She seems emotionally closed off, yet the most extroverted person I’ve ever met, all at the same time.
“Nothing wrong with it.”
Collie throws back her shot like a champ. “If only everyone thought that.”
“Fuck what anyone else thinks. Are you happy with who you are?”
She nods. “More than anything. I just hate that some of the people I love the most find the things I’m proud of a flaw. Or maybe an inconvenience is a better word.”
I can’t do anything but watch her. Watch this mysterious woman be vulnerable as she tells me her issues and the way they’re unfortunately portrayed to the people she cares about.
I can relate, and that’s exactly why she has my full attention.
That, and the fact that she looks so goddamn lethal right now. Running her hand through her bright blonde locks like it’s second nature, leaving her curls tousled and chaotic. But in a sexy way. She has on a hot pink sweatsuit, with a cream sherpa blanket wrapped around her for extra warmth.
She’s comfortable here, and it feels good to be the one she relaxes with.
We decided to leave the hatch open tonight and take advantage of Yellowstone at night. It’s peaceful.
With our legs hanging out of the van, I stand on impulse, needing to spare my restless fidgeting. This is the first time, other than when Ben passed, that I’ve been still.
I never take time off work and never just chill.
I can’t gauge if Collie wants to share further, but in the off chance she does, I ask, “What about your sister? Capri, right?”
She nods and a smile appears. “She’s my best friend. Not sure I trust anyone in the world more than I do her. We’ve been through a lot together.”
“But she’s getting married and lives in Italy?” It’s a question I’m almost positive I know the answer to.
If there’s one thing I’m good at—it’s listening. All I’ve done over the last two years is listen to everyone, and it’s fucking suffocating.
But I oddly don’t feel like that right now.
Another nod from Collie. “And having a baby.”
I get it now.
She’s happy for her sister and best friend, but there’s a new loneliness that comes with losing someone you once had day in and day out.
Her case isn’t like a death, I suppose. But in a way, Collie has handed her sister over to her new fiancé and takes the seat as second best.
Second favorite.
“What about your parents? Are they around?”
“They are. My dad is one of the best men I know. But my mother is another story. Pretty sure she thinks I wrote the book on how to disappoint your parents. If only I could be as studious and pristine as her.”
“I’m familiar with expectations,” I sigh, realizing I can relate to Collie more than I expected.
“I hate it. I’ll never be who she wants me to be.
My entire life, I was told I don’t talk with eloquence or dress classy enough.
Cut-off shorts and a tank top just won’t do it in the Meadows household.
God, I remember when I showed up with a lip ring and legit thought I would be on the streets by nightfall.
I’d never felt so low in my life…as a child.
” I let her talk, filling up her shot glass when she runs out.
“There was one time she told me I had a mustache, and she would be making me an appointment for laser hair removal right away. I was twelve. Twelve! What kind of mother says that to her child?”
“Shit.”
“Yeah. A shitty one. I was so mad, I took a picture of the two of us and tore it into pieces in front of her face.”
“Jesus. What did she do?”
“Honestly, the unexpected. My Mother never acts out of line. She will kill you with her narcissistic kindness before ever raising her voice. But this time, she screamed. All I remember is being dragged by my ear to the trash can with the torn pieces to throw them away. I’ve hated her ever since.”
I could never imagine my own mom doing something like that. Let alone treating me that way. “I’m sorry, Collie. That’s really fucking shitty.”
I know nothing I say will replace or take away those memories for her.
She’s her mother, for fuck’s sake.
Her eyes fall closed for a moment before she throws back her shot.
“Yeah, well, that was my life. And she wonders why I never want to be around her. The sad part is…I’ll always love her.
She’s my mom. And I’d forgive her in a heartbeat with just a sincere apology.
Yet, I know that will never happen. If it did, I think she’d have the world on its side. ”
I hate that for her. No child deserves to experience that kind of pain from someone made to care for them. As a child or an adult.
“And what about your dad? Does he ever say anything? Speak up to her at all?”