“Yes,” she said simply.
He yawned, nodded, and pointed to himself. “Me too.” They got on the elevator, and he pushed the eight for their floor. “I sure did like today,” he said. “Just me and you, without any wind, or rain, or dogs, or crows.”
“Oh, come on,” she teased, bumping him with her hip. “You love the dogs and the crows.”
He laughed, and Caroline’s second wind started to grow in her chest. “Yeah,” he said. “But I literally never take a vacation from the ranch. It feels weird…and nice.”
“Yeah,” she said as she leaned into him. “I don’t take many vacations either.”
“When we’re married, I’d like to take a vacation at least once a year.”
Caroline’s eyebrows went up. “When we’re married?” They hadn’t had this conversation at all in the past eight hours, though they had another five or six to go tomorrow. Then they had to get on their boat by three p.m., and off they’d be on the Mississippi River.
Dawson wouldn’t look at her, and the bell on the elevator dinged, saving him. “This way,” he said roughly. Caroline followed him off the elevator, her mind fuzzing a little with every step she took. The hallway snaked around, and she hoped she’d be able to get out if necessary.
He keyed open one door and dragged his suitcase inside. “You’re right next door,” he said, and he moved tothat one and held the key to the electronic pad. It beeped and flashed green, then he pushed down on the handle, and the door opened.
He entered first and held the door for her, so she could wheel her suitcase past him and into the room. The air hadn’t been circulating, and a certain stuffiness entered her nose and lungs. She scooted her bag against the wall and searched for the thermostat while Dawson lingered in the doorway.
“What do you want to do for dinner?” he asked.
She tapped on the down arrow to get the AC pumping. “You decide.” Caroline ducked back around the corner and found him looking at her. “I really don’t care. I don’t want to go out, but if you order something, I’ll come to your room, and we can have a picnic.”
Grinning, she moved toward him. She ran her hands up his chest and leaned into him, her mouth nearly catching on his as she said, “This was a great first day of road tripping.”
“Yeah?” His eyes had fallen closed, and he hadn’t backed up an inch. “You’re too tired to eat.”
“Baby, I’m never too tired to eat.” She pressed her lips to his. “I’m just too tired to go out. But give me a half-hour, and I’ll come see if your room is nicer than mine.”
He chuckled, his hands encircling her, drawing her closer. “They’re exactly the same, baby.” He released thedoor, which he’d been holding with his foot, and it slammed noisily closed.
Caroline wrapped her arms around him and let him hold her there in the narrow hallway of the hotel room.
“Caroline,” he whispered. “I want to talk about marriage and family on this trip.”
She stilled, grateful for a beating heart and breathing lungs that never stopped. She straightened and studied his face. He wore seriousness there, and she loved the flecks of darker blue in his aquamarine eyes. She didn’t need to be afraid of any conversations she had with this man, because that was what they were—conversations.
Not demands. Not a dictatorship, with a king telling her what to do, how to think, where to be and when.
“I do too,” she said.
“Yeah?”
She smiled and traced her fingers down his sideburn and along the side of his jaw, his beard soft and prickly beneath her fingers. “Yeah, baby.”
“Good,” he said, his voice back to rough and husky, like he’d swallowed a nail or two and had a wound near his windpipe. “Because I’m in love with you, and we need to start making plans if we’re really going to be serious.”
Caroline pulled in a breath. “Dawson Rhinehart,” she whispered. “Don’t you say it if you don’t mean it.”
He gave her a soft smile. “I’ve already said it, darlin’.”He kneaded her closer, until she had to shut her eyes she was so close.
Behind her eyelids, in the semi-darkness, everything was easier to see, to feel, to say. So she said, “I’m in love with you too.”
Dawson pulled in a breath, but Caroline didn’t open her eyes to see him. She wanted to bask in this moment, this feeling of contentment, where she’d finally released the secrets of her heart, and a very good, very handsome cowboy had received them for safekeeping.
“Caroline Thompson,” he murmured. “Don’t you say it if you don’t mean it.”
She smiled, her muscles like melting frosting over hot cinnamon rolls. “I’ve already said it, baby.”
