Chapter 23 – Give You Everything

 

Time on the ranch has been fun.  We started out horseback riding and I learned that Jordy has his own horse here, and Cara a pony.  Cam said she still doesn’t like to be on a horse by herself, so she rode in front of Cam while Jordy and I followed along.  I was able to see most of the Montgomery Ranch.  It’s massive and goes on forever.  The cows are stinky, and oh my, are there a lot of them.  That part was exactly what I was expecting a ranch to be like.  Cam explained that even though his dad now focuses on oil, he still dabbles in the cattle business because that’s what his dad and granddad did.  Obviously he doesn’t do this on his own—he has a slew of cowboys working for him. 

We’ve eaten, we’ve swam, we’ve eaten, I watched Cam and his dad shoot skeet, we’ve eaten, we swam some more and we ate again.  Hattie was not kidding when she said she was going to thicken me up.  There has been no healthy eating for me since I arrived at the ranch. 

She’s served all kinds of food drenched in “buttah.”  She’s fried everything under the sun.  We’ve consumed about every form of beef known to man, but this would be expected as we’re on a ranch.  We’ve even had salads that aren’t really salads, Gabby would have a fit.  One was stirred together with Cool Whip, mini marshmallows, cottage cheese and canned crushed pineapple.  I know the ingredients of this dish well since I was bossed to stir it together myself and it’s something Hattie described as a Montgomery favorite.  They call it Polar Bear Curds.  I threw up a little in my mouth and renamed it Polar Bear Turds in my head, because that’s what it looked like.  I won’t even get into the sweets and desserts.

Other than the Polar Bear Turds, it’s all been good, but I really feel the need for something green.  Green isn’t a color Hattie embraces in the kitchen.

Church with the Montgomery’s was something I will not soon forget.  I go to church (well, some of the time), but my church is big and it’s easy to get lost in the crowd, which is nice when you decide to skip and sleep in.  No one really misses you and it makes you feel less guilty.  But the Montgomery church couldn’t be more different. 

The church Cam grew up in is a small country church where everyone knows everyone.  And Hattie did wear a hat, although it was demure.  It sat high on her head and almost angled down over one eye.  It was baby blue and she wore shoes to match, but her dress was the color of bone.  I was really glad I decided to pack a couple choices, because I decided on the dressier of my dresses.  It’s pale pink with short capped sleeves and form fitting to my knees, but conservative enough for church.  I wore my strappy silver heels so I was taller than normal. 

On the way, Cam for some reason seemed a little edgy and kept trying to explain to me what was going to happen.  The kids rode with his parents in his mom’s shiny Cadillac, which she referred to as her “Sunday Car,” while Cam and I followed.

“Why are you being so weird?” I ask into the vanity mirror as I apply my lip gloss.  “It’s church.  As long as they don’t sacrifice a small animal or anything, it’ll be fine.  All churches have their own flavor.  I don’t know why you keep feeling the need to warn me about everything.”

“Everyone’s old and the choir’s made up of old people who can’t sing.  They’re only in the choir because they want to stand at the front and see who’s not in church so they can talk about them the rest of the week.  And there’ll probably be a soloist using a karaoke machine,” he explains.  “My grandparents helped start this church.  This is a small town, it’s going to be different than what you’re used to.”

“Can I sing on the karaoke machine?” I grin.

“Baby, I’m serious.”

“How do you know what I’m used to?  You’ve never been to church with me.  I’ve survived the Montgomery’s so far, although I am surprised I can still zip my dress after all I’ve eaten.  You’re blowing this way out of proportion,” I say, exasperated with him.

“All right,” he sighs.  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He pulls into a little country church that looks like something you’d see on a Christmas card if we weren’t in the sweltering, summer Texas heat.  It’s white with the perfect old fashioned steeple and the most beautiful dark stained arched doors.  He parks his dirty Expedition next to all the clean old people cars that they probably save for Sundays, just like Hattie.  I look over and for the millionth time this morning since he got dressed, I feel the need to melt, but not from the Texas heat. 

“Cam?” I call before he reaches for his door.

“We’ve got to get going.  If my mother’s late, Margot Herrington takes her pew just to piss her off.  They’ve hated each other since I was in second grade,” he explains.

I look at him in his dark grey suit with his light blue crisp shirt and silver tie, together making his eyes shine bright in the Texas morning sun.  I know I’ve already told him, but I have to say it again, “Okay, I know I said this earlier, but I can’t get over it because you’re always in athletic clothes.  You look really good in a suit.  And I’ve never had a thing for men in suits, I usually appreciate men in more casual attire, and now obviously, athletic wear.  But you look really,” I pause and lean into the console to lower my voice, “really good this morning.”

The side of his mouth tips and he leans to me, “Baby, I have to warn you.  If you squirm in church telling me your wet—like I know you are when you squirm for me—while wearing that dress that hugs your ass the way it does, I won’t be able to focus.  I’ll be sent straight to hell for dragging you to the car and fucking you in the church parking lot.”

I feel my eyes go wide, “Cam.”

“I’m serious,” his eyes showing me how serious he is.  “I wanted to yank your dress up and take you in the bathroom, but you took too long to dry your hair.”

“Sorry,” I smile.  “But I couldn’t come to church with wet hair when your mom’s wearing a hat.”

He leans in to kiss me, but not fast.  It’s a kiss that tells me he really does want to fuck me in the church parking lot.

I jump against his mouth when I hear a rap on my window.  I turn quickly and see a baby blue hat standing there and Hattie yells through the glass, “Quit kissin’ and c’mon!  I want my pew and you know that woman will steal it.”

“We’d better go,” I hear and turn around to see Cam grinning.

When we walk into the church with Cam holding my hand, every old woman in the place descends upon us.  Cam has to stoop to hug and kiss every single one of them as they crowd him like he’s a rock star.  He does his best using his mother as an excuse and pulls us through the crowd of old ladies. 

When we finally get to Cam’s parents, his mother looks out of breath, probably from scurrying in her low heels.  She looks over her shoulder and exclaims, “There she is, we really cut it close this mornin’.”

We’re squished in “our” pew.  I’m guessing there aren’t normally this many people sitting here.  Ellie is on the aisle with her unhappy husband and has two huge bags of baby paraphernalia stuffed at her feet.  Jen is on the opposite end by Kipp and Hattie.  We’re in the middle of them all and Cara has to sit on Cam’s lap because of the lack of space.  I’m sandwiched in between Cam and Jordy.  It’s already hot—I hope this little old church keeps the air conditioning up to snuff. 

The robed choir walks in as the recorded music plays.  When I do go to church, I like the service with contemporary music, but I’m not surprised the choir sings old and traditional hymns.  No one participates except Hattie, who belts them at the top of her lungs from memory.

The pastor finally makes his entrance to address his flock with welcomes and announcements.  After learning about the summer bake sale, upcoming fried chicken dinner and an ice cream social, the pastor’s eyes come straight to me.  Or us.  But really, it feels like me.

“Brothers and sisters, we are blessed on this beautiful Texas day.  Our congregation’s founding members’ namesake is home visiting his family.  That’s right—Lyle and Agatha Campbell’s grandson is here,” I have to fight back a smile as I hear Cam quietly groan from my side and Jordy turns to hide his face in my other.  The old pastor smiles big and holds out his arms dramatically to finish, “Campbell Montgomery, please stand with your family and let the congregation greet you properly.”

I feel Jordy grab on to my arm and Cam sighs before heaving his big body to stand with Cara in his arms.  Jordy doesn’t move, but burrows further into me mumbling, “I’m not gonna do it.”

“Oh, you too, little lady,” I hear and look toward the front.  The pastor is smiling straight at me.  I don’t have to fight back my smile now.  I feel my face fall right before it heats like a branding iron when he goes on to finish, “Wasn’t that you with Campbell in the parking lot before church?”

I gasp and I’m pretty sure it’s Jen who doesn’t do a good job at choking back her response.  I look up and Cam is holding a hand out for me, but the look on his face is purely smug.  I feel like I know him pretty well by now and I have a feeling this is what he was trying to warn me about in the car when I brushed him off. 

“That was your mouth I had my tongue in, right?” he whispers.

“Shut up,” I whisper back. 

He grins bigger and grabs my upper arm, yanking me up. 

Well, fuck it. 

I mean, forget it (I am in church, even if it is a little odd).  I can handle this.  I just need to own it, even if I do make a fool out of myself. 

I plaster a big smile on my face as I stand and thank my lucky stars I’m wearing some of my highest heels.  I need all the height I can get at the moment.  Cam puts his hand to the small of my back as I own my moment. 

I decide to use the princess wave and make eye contact with as many people as I can.  I even turn around to visually greet the members sitting behind us, making exaggerated facial expressions to communicate my fake happiness. 

You’d think I was just crowned Miss America, I so owned the moment.  I’m pretty sure I could rock a float and be the highlight of a parade if I was given the opportunity. 

Once I feel I’ve played my part to its fullest, making eye contact with as many old people as I can, I slide an arm around Cam’s waist and lean into him.  He looks at me and he’s got his lips pursed, trying not to react at my spectacle.  I give him my fake smile before turning to face the pastor with raised eyebrows and tip my head, awaiting further instruction. 

“Well, then,” he says, clearing his throat.  “Thank you for worshiping with us today.”

Assuming that’s our cue that we’re allowed to sit and get on with it, I give him one more little wave before turning to pick up my purse so we can settle in.  Jordy is beaming as I wiggle my booty back in between him and Cam, Cam stretching his arm around me to make more room for us. 

I look over and whisper, “Does that always happen?”

He grins, “Not that.  You just gave these old codgers something to talk about ‘til they hit their grave.”

“Probably,” I mutter, before taking a deep breath and anticipate the rest of the service.  I ask with attitude, “Is there anything else you’d like to warn me about?”

“Other than the receiving line at the end of the service?  No.  Hold your breath, the pastor wears so much cologne you might pass out.  And if you get pulled into a hug, you’ll reek of it the rest of the day,” he whispers into my ear.  I turn and give him a screwed up face that conveys my “grossed out” look.  He leans in closer and says, “That’s okay, when we get home I’ll throw you in the pool.  Although now I can’t fuck you in the parking lot, the old people will be watching.” 

I roll my eyes, I know he wouldn’t fuck me in the church parking lot, but I can’t help it.  The thought makes me fidget.  Of course Cam catches it and his gaze turns heated.  I try and get it under control, opening my purse to pull a twenty out of my wallet.  Handing it to Jordy, I whisper, “You’re a chicken.”

He smiles big like he doesn’t care and scoots to the edge of the pew anxiously awaiting the collection plate. 

If this is the worst that’s thrown at me during our time in Texas, I think I’ll live.

*****

The visit has been entertaining for sure, but seeing Cam with his family has been the highlight.  It’s clear their love for him is abundant.  Even his sisters adore and miss him.  After graduating from college, he decided to stay in Nebraska to start his career.  His family doesn’t mince words when it comes to their dissatisfaction with this choice because of its proximity, but they’re proud of him all the same. 

I’ve also learned that Cam doesn’t like Ellie’s husband, Robert.  They live in a suburb north of Dallas and he’s got some big finance job.  It sounds like they live quite comfortably, but Robert basically ignores Ellie and Cam thinks he’s on his way to becoming a “shit dad.”  I’ve only been around him for two days, but haven’t found many redeeming qualities in him so far.  Ellie’s sweet, though.  Maybe too sweet, because it looks like her husband could have the tendency to walk all over her.  Cam doesn’t say anything to his baby sister about her husband, but Jen sure does.  She’s made it clear over the past two days how much she dislikes her brother-in-law. 

Jen is single and almost thirty.  She works for the Montgomery family business, managing sales with refineries.  She says she’s dating someone, but nothing serious and added, “I’m not crazy enough to bring anyone home to meet my family.”

It’s Monday morning and our last day here as we’re leaving tomorrow, bright and early.  After breakfast, Kipp took Jordy fishing and Cara got busy in the kitchen with Hattie, probably frying something or cooking with butter.  Hattie must buy it by the case.

Cam put me in a camouflaged, oversized-four-wheeling-golf-cart-looking-thing and drove us far off onto the ranch somewhere.  When we arrived at our destination, there was another barn, but much smaller than the main one in back of the house.  There are targets set up that back to a wide open range.  When we got inside, Cam unlocks an enormous safe containing a shitload of guns in all shapes and sizes.

“Don’t flinch,” he says in my ear.

“I can’t help it,” I say, extending my arms, aiming at the target that’s about thirty yards away. 

I hold the gun that Cam said was small enough, I can’t remember the name of it or what the numbers meant that followed.  It all sounded like gobbledygook to me.  I’ve never been a gun person even though the men in my family are hunters.  My cousin Gabby loves to shoot and usually carries a gun.  I think she’s a little crazy for it.  The last thing I want is for someone to ask me for a piece of gum and while digging around my purse for a minty chew, say, “Oh, here it is, right next to my gun.”  Who does that? 

Well, I guess Gabby does.

“This is why you should have stayed in boot camp.  Keep your arms strong, darlin’.  Brace yourself, aim and squeeze,” he says.  He’s plastered to my back with his big arms wrapped around mine holding them steady.  It’s a little hard to concentrate when I’m surrounded by his big hard body.  He bosses, “Try again.”

I look through the sight of my small gun and squeeze.  Lowering my arms, I look at my target, finding it went high and right.  At least I hit the paper this time.  Good for me.

I look up and complain, “It’s hard to concentrate when you’re pressed up against me.”

He narrows his eyes, dropping an arm to my tummy, “Is it?”

“You know it is,” I say before adding, “I should start my period any day, you know.”

“Birth control time?” he asks.

“Yep,” I smile.

“No more condoms?” he goes on grinning, as if he didn’t know.

I shake my head saying, “Apparently it’s better that way.  I wouldn’t know.”

“Oh, it’s more than better,” he says, moving away from me.

Cam pulls the gun out of my hand and pointing it toward the ground, he releases the magazine.  Then he does a whole clickety-clack thing and another bullet springs from the top.  He tosses it all on the old weathered table sitting next to us and pulls my back to his chest again.  Before I know it, he yanks the button on my jean shorts and as quick as a snap, his hand dips straight into my panties.

“Cam,” I call.  “We’re outside.”

“I know,” he says against the side of my head as his fingers move. 

I grab his arm, but he keeps at me when I say, “What if someone comes?”

“No one’s going to come,” he says.  I feel him smile against my temple, “You just told me you’ll be off limits for a few days.  I’ve got to take advantage of you while I can.  Not to mention, you can be as loud as you want out here, we won’t be in a room between the kids and my sister.”

This is true.  We’ve had silent sex ever since we got here, and that’s not easy to do.  I didn’t even want to share a room.  It felt weird sleeping together, let alone having sex in his parents’ house.  He told me it was fine and if I argued or tried to sleep elsewhere, he’d pick me up and bring me right back.  I figured that would be more embarrassing than sharing a room with him under his parents’ roof, so I caved.  I never imagined silent sex with Cam would be so good.  I got to listen to him breathe heavy and I never would’ve known Cam can breathe sexy, but he does during silent sex.  One more thing to make me weak.

His free hand comes up to cup my breast while the other reaches further, sliding a finger inside me.  I lean my head back on his chest and exhale, “Please, Cam.  Being outside makes me nervous.”

I feel both hands give me a squeeze before he releases me and grabs my hand, “We’ll go to the barn.”

Sex in a barn.  I’m checking off all kinds of firsts this trip.

“God-willing, I’ll be better at barn sex than shooting a target,” I say as he pulls me along.

He slams the door shut, “I promise you’ll be better at barn sex.”

“I don’t know if that’s a compliment or not,” I say, but he doesn’t answer.  I go on, “It’s hot in here.  Your dad needs a Big Ass Fan.”

He ignores me and his hands come back to my shorts, surprising me by yanking them down, pulling my panties with them.  Picking me up at the waist, he steps on my shorts and panties pulling them off with my flip-flops. 

“Cam!” I yell.

“Brace your hands on the wall,” he says as he turns me away from him, his voice dipping.

“Why?”

He doesn’t explain, he takes my hands in his and places them against the wall.  He leans down to my ear and whispers, “Baby, be still and quit talking.  Now keep your hands here and try not to move.”

“Cam,” I start.

“Darlin’,” he cups me between my legs from the back, making me jump.  A finger slides inside me at the same time another hits my clit.  He does this a time or three before he repeats, “Quit talking.”

“Okay,” I mutter, leaning further into the wall and can’t help but tip my bottom back for him.

“There’s my sweet,” he murmurs into the side of my head as he stands flush to my side.  He warms me with his fingers and I find myself reaching for his touch.  When he lightens his strokes, I can’t help but complain with a moan and he asks, “You want more?”

I lift my eyes and see him looking down at me, “Yes.”

“You think you can move for me?  Find it on my hand?”

I instantly frown, “No.”

He leans down to kiss me first and at my lips he says softly, “You can.  Move, baby.”

“I’ve told you I don’t like that.  You do it better,” I plead and he gives me a couple stronger swipes before making it lighter again.  He’s tried to get me to touch myself for him and I just can’t.  I’ve explained it’s not the same, however he’s persistent.  But right now I can’t help but move, searching for him. 

“There you go,” he encourages, his goatee tickling my ear.

I keep moving and he keeps teasing, making me search.  I feel myself getting close, but he keeps pulling back, forcing me to reach for it.  And I do.  I can’t help but reach for it, moving to find his touch.  Finally, he gives me a little more of his hand, a flick of my clit and I gasp.  I have to lean into the wall so my legs don’t buckle.   Through my gasps I hear a tear.  Looking over, I see he’s ripping a condom open in his teeth and he’s already undone his jeans. 

He pulls away from me and makes quick work of his task, saying, “I can’t wait to do away with these.”  Putting his hands to my bare bottom, he lifts me up before turning me to the wall where he says, “Hang on.”

I wrap my legs around his waist, clutching his shoulders as he lowers me, impaling me on his cock.

“I’ll never get used to the look on your face when you take me,” he says in a low voice, pressing my back to the wall of the barn.  “Your eyes, your face.  The instant I slide into you, you make the world fall away for me, baby.  Only you can do that for me.  I fucking love that.  And it’s all mine.”

We’re face to face as he’s moving inside me now, driving up and I feel him stretching me as he gives me something new.  We’ve never had sex against a wall, much less in a barn.  I feel all his strong muscles flex with each thrust as he easily holds me.  I do my best to rock my hips with his and he moves harder, faster.

Because he’s easily holding me tight, I let go of his shoulders and push my hands into his hair, looking into his bright blue eyes.  They droop and he tips his forehead to mine slamming into me one last time, pressing me tight to the wall.  I wrap my legs around him and he brings a hand up to the side of my face, his eyes searing into mine. 

“I like you here,” he says through labored breaths.  “I like you here with my family.  By you giving me your sweet, baby, you’re giving me everything.  I’ve never had this before.  Fuck, I didn’t even know it existed.”

I drag one of my hands to his cheek and looking into his beautiful blue eyes, I whisper, “I want to give you everything.” 

He closes his eyes slowly and presses the side of his face to mine.  A moment later, he tips his head enough to kiss me, slow and sweet.  Wrapping his arms around me, one goes under my bottom and the other up my back, his hand sneaking into my hair.  We stay like this for many long moments, Cam still inside me with him holding me up against a barn wall.  His mood seems weighty, thoughtful.  I hang on and file this into my memory bank, hoping I never forget.