After all, it’s better than being in Yellowstone married to a woman I never loved. And Collie seems like a cool girl.
And for the next two weeks, she’ll be my fake wife.
“So,” Collie draws out, attempting to change the subject. “Is there a list or something for us to know when the events are going on?”
“We already have plans,” I blurt out, earning myself a humorous side eye from Dirty Dan.
“Oh, screw that,” Collie dismisses my comment. “We’re embracing this, Easton. Get over it.”
Okay.That was kinda sexy, but I’ll ignore it.
“I knew I liked you,” Dan whispers loudly to Collie, making me want to head back to the UTV and ghost everyone here.
Dan adjusts the carabiner on his belt and turns on a wide grin. “I’ll have Sheila, the park facilitator and my leadin’ lady, bring over the retreat schedule for ya in the morning. You got any questions about the retreat? We’re in charge, so ask away. Oh, and one more thing. Don’t leave the campsite without bear spray. You’ve been warned.”
So, Dirty Dan and Sheila run the marriage retreat? Got it. “Thanks for the heads up.”
“Aw. How long have you been married, Dirty Dan?”
He chuckles, rubbing his curled mustache like he cherishes it. “Oh, we aren’t married. I’m as single as a Pringle.”
But they facilitate amarriageretreat? How does that make them qualified? “Oh, fuck no?—”
A soft hand touches my arm, causing my steps to halt for a moment. “Gotcha. Well, we’re looking forward to everything you have planned. And can’t wait to meet Ms. Sheila. Thank you so much, Dirty Dan,” Collie tells him.
Without saying anything more, we let him lead. “There she is. Right up there.” He points to the allotted campsite in front of us with designated acres in between each property.
Attempting to roll Collie’s broken suitcase up a hill is not for the faint of heart. Rocks, ice, and debris meet me step for step. I need to get out of this tuxedo. “The hell you got in here, woman?”
“You don’t wanna know.” Collie smiles before her sudden stop has my eyes shifting in her direction. “Be for real, Easton. Where’s the cabin?”
Dan and I share skeptical looks. He’s likely wondering why my wife, who just ten minutes ago said she planned this, would be asking where we’re sleeping. This can go one of two ways. Collie will either take it like a champ and be excited for this adventure, or she’ll refuse to stay here and request to leave.
I don’t know her well enough to predict which it’ll be. Hell, I’m not even fully sure what’s in store. Sydney mentioned a few options…a two-room yurt, jokingly, a camper van, and a tent big enough to house a family of five.
I told her I’d be good with whatever and she never actually communicated what she decided on, now that I think about it.
Maybe I should have thought through inviting Collie a bit more?
The possibility of sharing an intimate space was the least of my concerns after witnessing her bad day at the airport.
Dirty Dan points to me, refusing to be the experienced host he claims to be. “Asshole,” I mumble loud enough for only him to hear. It’s then that I turn to Collie, who’s waiting patiently for someone to speak up.
“See that orange beauty up there?” Dan asks, and Collie shifts her focus ahead.
“The one that looks like all the others, but orange? Yes, I see it.” She points to the left side of the park.
“That’s where we’re staying. Remember,honey?” I emphasize the pet name. I appear calm, but inwardly, I’m panicking.
“You booked it and insisted we get lost in natureandeach other, remember?” I really hope she doesn’t suspect my own anxiousness.
“Sure. Sure,” she plays it off. “Refresh my memory, please. The camper is our hotel?”
“Yes.” My eyes land on the orange Volkswagen van, backpedaling a bit in hopes of recalling a conversation with Sydney where I missed it. But nothing.
Shit. I invited a stranger to stay with me in an enclosed space, hardly big enough for one person as it is.
“The camper van with faded decals all over it? It has a bed in it, too? A bed where we both will sleep?”
