“He went to the school?” Ali’s mouth dropped. “He left the fields in the middle of a sunny day to drive to town?”
“He said he was coming in anyway to drop off a soil sample.” I wasn’t really sure what that meant, but it sounded like something a farmer would do.
“Bullshit. The Bureau’s closed on Fridays. He went to see you, and that’s all.” She laughed and turned back to flip the tomatoes. “Hoo boy, does he have it bad. This is the best thing ever.”
“I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t agree.”
“Probably not. So what did you say? When he told you he didn’t mean to kiss you? What, did he trip and fall onto your lips?”
“He didn’t say that exactly. Just that he was sorry, it shouldn’t have happened, blah, blah, blah. I just said ... okay.”
“You did?” Ali turned down the flame under her pan and stirred another pot.
“Yeah. And you should have seen the look on his face. He expected me to pitch a fit, and when I didn’t, I think he was a little disappointed.”
She laughed again, almost a cackle. “Perfect. I can’t wait to see—oh, shhh. Here he comes.”
The old farm truck rumbled into the backyard, and Sam climbed out. He was considerably dustier than he’d been earlier in the afternoon, and the look on his face was anything but happy. I watched him stride over to the outside shed sink, strip off his shirt and wash up. And all I wanted at that moment was to be able to walk outside, slip my arms around his damp waist and rest my head on his muscled back. To do that, knowing he would turn in my arms and look down at me with a desire that matched my own ... I sighed.
“I have an idea.” Ali leaned toward me, keeping her eyes on the window. “Just follow my lead, okay? Trust me. And Jesus, girl, rein it in. You’re looking at him like you want to slurp him up with a spoon.”
I didn’t have time to answer her before the screen door squealed open and then slammed shut. Sam stomped into the kitchen. Droplets of water glistened on his chest, and his light brown hair was darker at the ends where it was wet. I clutched at the counter edge behind me.
“Hey, good timing. Supper’s about ready.”
Sam scowled at her. “I’m getting a shower. Start without me.” He started through the doorway to the living room until Ali’s sharp voice stopped him.
“No, sir, we will not. Grab a clean shirt and come sit down. These tomatoes will get soggy if we don’t eat them now, and we’re not being rude and eating without you.” She rapped on the window to get Bridget’s attention and motioned her inside.
Sam muttered something low under his breath, but he stepped into the small laundry room off the kitchen, chucked his dirty tee into a basket and took a clean one from the pile Ali kept there for him. I couldn’t help licking my lips as I watched him pull it on.
“Meghan, will you please put the potatoes on the table?” Ali thrust a steaming bowl in front of me, and I had no choice but to take it. I set it down in the middle of the long plank table just as Bridget came dancing in.
“Wash up, Bridge, we’re going to eat. Here, Sam, take the meat.”
In a few minutes, under Ali’s expert prodding and direction, we were all sitting down around the table. Sam asked the blessing on the food, in the words I was sure were an exact duplicate of the prayer his father and grandfather had used. As soon as we began passing platters and bowls, Ali glanced at me.
“Meghan, you know, I was thinking. This is your third Friday night in Burton, and all you’ve been doing is sitting at home.”
Across the table, I saw Sam’s arm freeze in mid-action as he spooned out boiled potatoes. I slid my eyes to Ali.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” I had an inkling of where she was going, but I also knew it was likely doomed to failure.
“Why don’t you go out tonight? You told me you love to dance, right? And you’ve been to the Road Block. You should go back there, go dancing.”
I wasn’t sure how to reply. “Uh, that sounds like so much fun, Ali. But I’m not sure I want to go over there by myself, and I don’t know anyone else in town. Or at least, no one to take me dancing. I’ve only met students and parents, and none of them seem like they’d make good dates.”
Ali swung bright eyes toward her brother. “Sam, you should take Meghan dancing tonight.”
He was shaking his head before the words left her mouth. “Nope. No way. I don’t do dancing, and I’m too tired to go out tonight. You might remember I’ve been out in the hot sun all day, in the fields?”
“All day?” Ali’s tone was arch, and Sam flushed.
“I’m not going.”
“Really, Ali, it’s okay. I’m fine to just—”
“What’s the matter with you, Sam? Are you afraid to take her out? Afraid of a little dancing? I remember when you used to be fun.”
At this point, Bridget and I were watching the back and forth like a tennis match. The little girl’s eyes, wide and wondering, met mine. I gave a little shrug.
“Ali, give it up. I’m not going out tonight.”
Temper flared in Ali’s brown eyes, so like her brother’s. “Fine. Then I will.”
“What?” All three of our voices joined in combined surprise.
“I haven’t done anything fun with a friend for so long I can’t remember the last time. If you’re not going to take Meghan dancing, then I’ll go with her. I wanted to check out the new bar, anyway.”
“What in the hell are you talking about, Ali?” Sam brought his hands down on the table. “Since when do you go to bars?”
“You might remember, brother dear, that I’m young. Maybe I’ve wanted to go out and kick up my heels for a long time, and maybe this is my chance. You’re not going anywhere. You can stay home with Bridget. Put her to bed at eight. And don’t wait up. We’re going to be late.” She dropped her fork onto her plate with a clatter. “Oh, and you can do the dishes, too. C’mon, Meghan. Go get dressed. We’re leaving in fifteen minutes.”
She pushed back her chair and stamped out of the kitchen. I watched her go, my mouth open. When I turned back to look at Sam, he had resumed eating.
“Sam, I didn’t—I mean, I never thought—”
He shook his head. “You better go get ready. When she says fifteen minutes, she means it. And you need to make sure she doesn’t get into trouble. She’s not lying when she says she hasn’t been out in a long time.” He added something about the blind leading the blind, but I headed to my room before he could elaborate.
Fourteen minutes later, I was back in the kitchen, wearing a denim mini-skirt and green tank top. Ali was there already, in a pretty flowered sundress that hit her leg high above the knee and hugged her curves. Her cowboy boots were feminine, with lots of silver topstitching over the black leather. She’d pulled her long brown hair into a curly ponytail.
“Wow, hot mama!” I whistled as I checked her out and then guiltily looked for Bridget. To my relief, she’d already gone upstairs.
“You look good, too.” Ali eyed me critically. “Except you need different shoes. Your feet’ll get stomped in those sandals.”
I held out one foot. “Sorry, I don’t have any. I didn’t pack anything but these and my flip flops.”
“That’s okay, I have the perfect pair. Be right back.” She skipped past me toward the stairs.
Sam was standing at the sink, up to his elbows in suds. I cleared my throat. “Thanks for doing the dishes. We won’t stay out long. And I promise, I won’t have anything to drink.”
He glanced at me over his shoulder. “Just don’t drive drunk. I don’t want to have to wake up Bridget to go bail you and my sister out of jail.” His eyes traveled down my shirt, where it clung to my boobs, to the skirt that barely covered what it had to. His lips pressed together. “Meghan—”
“Here we go!” Ali reappeared with a pair of bright red shoes. “We’re about the same size. Try them and see.”
I kicked off my sandals and stepped into the sky-high heels. I’d expected them to be
tight and uncomfortable, but they actually fit me like a glove and felt perfect.
“Awesome. Okay, let’s go.” She paused at the back door. “I have my phone, Sam. Bridget’s in the tub, and she’ll be ready for bed in a little bit. You know what to do.” She held the screen for me.
I glanced at Sam. “See you later.”
“Yeah.” He spoke low, but I heard him anyway as we stepped into the fading light.
We drove my car, and once we were clear of the farm, Ali let out a long sigh. “Oh my God, I didn’t mean that to happen like it did. I thought I could talk him into going with you, but then when he was so stubborn ... I figured he’d jump in to stop me.” She laid her hand on my arm. “I’m sorry, Meghan. If you really don’t want to go, we can turn around.”
I looked at her out of the corner of my eye. “Hell, no. Are you kidding? I‘ve been dying to go dancing. And going with you is even better.”
She smiled. “To be honest, once Sam made it clear he wasn’t going, I was pretty excited. I haven’t been out in years, except to meetings and baby showers. This is going to be fun.”
The parking lot at the Road Block was even more crowded this time than it had been when Laura and I were there. The difference was that once we’d parked and begun walking in, Ali knew just about all the people we passed. She called out and waved as we made our way to the door. I just tried to keep up with her.
Inside, the music was loud, and the dance floor was crowded. Ali grinned as we pushed our way through to the bar and ordered beers.
“You have no idea how much I needed this!” She stretched out her arms and let her head drop back, yelling the words over the noise.
“I’ll only have one drink,” I shouted into her ear. “So you can relax and have as much as you want.”
The bartender slid the bottles across to us, and Ali tilted back the bottle, taking a long pull and closing her eyes. “God, the last time I got drunk was the night Bridget was conceived. It’s been a long eight years.”
I grinned. “You’ve been busy being mommy. And you’re good at it.”
“Yeah. I love her to bits. But sometimes I forget that I’m only twenty-six, not forty.” Pain shadowed her eyes, but she blinked it away. “Hey, look, there’s a table by the wall. Let’s grab it before someone else does.”
We darted around people standing near the bar and others trying to get to the dance floor. Ali dropped her handbag on the table, and we both pulled out chairs.
I watched her take another hit of beer. “How long have you been divorced? If you don’t mind me asking.”
Ali cast her eyes up. “Let’s see ... I got married when I was eighteen. Had Bridge when I was nineteen. Craig left when she was five months old. So almost seven years.”
I shook my head. “And you haven’t dated that whole time?”
“Nope. No time, with us trying to make the farm work.”
“Did he break your heart?” I peeled a little bit of the label from the sweating bottle.
“Hardly.” Ali huffed out a short laugh. “No. Honestly, I was just as happy to see him go. I’d never have walked out on him, but ... it was a bad idea, the two of us getting married.” Something flickered in her eyes, and she upended the beer, chugging it down. “I’m ready for another.”
I stood up. “Stay here. I’ll grab you one and get myself a soda.” I threaded my way through the crowd.
“Hey, sexy.” A hand on my ass made me halt, and I spun to see who was touching me. My heart sank when I recognized Mr. Sexy Cowboy, the guy from my first visit to the Road Block. From the surprise on his face, I realized he remembered me, too.
“Uh, hi. Nice to see you again.” I tried to move forward, but he had me by the hem of my skirt.
“Wait a minute. You were supposed to be, like, one of those religious ladies. Your friend told me.”
“Ah ...” Damn Laura and her creative lies. Couldn’t she just have told him I had a jealous boyfriend? “Yeah, that didn’t work out.”
“Well, I’m glad.” He tugged me closer to the chair where he sat. “We can pick up where we left off.”
“Thanks, but I’m here with a friend.” I pointed back to the table where Ali was waiting. “Maybe another time.”
“She won’t mind.” He gripped me harder and pulled so that I stumbled backward, landing on the edge of his lap.
“I think I said no.” I pushed against his shoulder, struggling to stand up.
“Hey, Trent, the lady wants to go. Give it up, bud.” The guy who spoke was about my height, with blond hair styled in that deliberately tousled way. He stood next to me and gripped Mr. Sexy Cowboy’s arm. “She’s not playing hard to get.” He glanced at me. “Are you?”
“No.” I stepped back. “Definitely not.”
Trent raised both hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. We had a good time before. I was just trying to, uh, let it continue.” He looked a little abashed as he slanted his eyes to me. “No hard feelings?”
“Sure.” I turned to go, and my blond rescuer stayed next to me as I walked away from their table.
“Sorry about Trent. He’s harmless, but he can be persistent, particularly after he’s had a few.”
We reached the bar, and I caught the bartender’s eye and ordered a beer and a soda. Trent’s friend reached for his wallet. “Make that two beers and a soda, please. My treat, to make up for Trent.”
“You don’t have to do that,” I protested.
“My pleasure.” He handed a twenty across the bar and then turned back to me. “I’m Alex, by the way.”
I offered my hand. “Meghan. Thanks again.” I looked over my shoulder. “I really am here with my friend Ali, but you’re welcome to join us.”
Alex followed my gesture and smiled. “Hey, I know her! She’s my next-door neighbor. And a good friend. I was planning to get over to see her this weekend.”
“Then you have to come over and say hello.” I led the way, and Ali’s eyes brightened when she saw us.
“Alex! When did you get back into town?” She jumped up to give him a hug and take her beer from me.
“Just last night. I figured to come by the stand tomorrow to say hey. How’s everything with you? Sam doing okay? And the baby?” We all sat down, Alex angling the chair to stretch out his long legs.
Ali laughed. “Same old here. Doing the mommy thing, working the farm, running the stand. Sam’s still driving me crazy and working too hard. And Bridget’s seven now—no more baby.”
“Geez, that’s crazy.” He grinned and shook his head. “And what about your love life? Any bouncing going on in that lonely bed?”
My eyebrows rose in shock, but Ali only giggling. “Nah. Would you believe this is the first time I’ve been out just for fun since before Craig? I’m nearly a lost cause.” She took a swig of beer and then lifted it toward me. “I’m sorry, Alex, have you met Meghan? She’s living with us for the summer.”
Alex turned his bright blue eyes my way. “Yeah, I had the pleasure of helping her escape the clutches of Trent Wagner.” He looked me up and down, but it didn’t make me uncomfortable. I got the feeling he was only curious, not creepy. “So what brings you to the metropolis of Burton, Georgia this summer?”
“I’m teaching art at the school, just for a few months.” I glanced between the two of them. “I take it you’ve been out of town for a while?”
“Alex lives in Atlanta.” Ali reached across to squeeze his arm. “He left for college and never came home. Well, for good, I mean. He comes back every summer since Fred and Missy won’t go visit him in the big city.”
“Ohhh.” I nodded. “You’re Mr. Fred’s son. Mr. Fred who owns the card-playing horses.” I’d heard Bridget rhapsodize over the horses next door since I’d been here.
Alex laughed. “Well, they’re not card-playing, that I know of. But yeah, Dad named them after card games. It was a joke, because his mother was raised Methodist, and they weren’t allowed to play cards. He did it to get her dander up, he says.”
“Bridget totally covets them all. The running argument in our house is between Sam and her, about how we really can’t have a farm without horses.” Ali finished her beer and stood up. “I need another drink.”
“Want me to go?” I watched to see if she was swaying, but she seemed steady.
“Nah, I’m good. Plus I’d have to send Alex to protect you from grabby cowboys. Maybe I want to see if one of them wants to get grabby with me.” She winked and slipped past me.
“Good to see her having fun.” Alex sipped his beer. “She and Sam had a rough time there for a while.”
“They’re great people. I’m glad I’m staying with them.”
He nodded. “So what’s up with old Sam these days? Anyone bouncing on his bed?”
I almost choked on my soda. “Um, not to my knowledge, no.” I felt the red creep onto my cheeks and hoped Alex wouldn’t notice it.
“Hmmm.” He narrowed his eyes. “Got your eye on that, do you?”
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Was I that transparent? “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Aw, honey, I recognized the look. C’mon, you’re living in that house ... I take you’re unattached yourself. Have you seen him with his shirt off?”
I thought of Sam walking in wet before dinner, and I might have hummed a little. Alex chuckled.
“I’ll take that as a yes. Ah, that boy. I had a crush on him from the time I was thirteen. Never looked my way, of course. He’s a hundred percent hetero.”
Ali came back in enough time to hear his last statement. “You’re so right, my friend. You never had a chance there. But you heard it here first: I think my go-it-alone big brother just may have fallen hard for our Miss Meghan.”
Alex wiggled his eyebrows. “That is news. Are we talking serious?”
Ali sat down again and scooted her chair closer to Alex. “He told her he only wanted to be friends, but he kissed her early this morning while they watched the sunrise, and then he informed her that it was a mistake. But get this: he drove all the way in from the farm to town in the middle of the day to tell her that it was a mistake.”
The Last One (The One Trilogy #1) Page 11
