The Last One(42)

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?”