The Last One (23 page)

Read The Last One Online

Authors: Tawdra Kandle

BOOK: The Last One
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I was confused for the space of a moment, and then everything clicked.
Evans
. Of course. This woman must be the sister of Ali’s lost love, Bridget’s real father. Examining her more closely, I thought I saw a tiny bit of resemblance.

And if this were Bridget’s aunt, and Graham was the child of her sister ... that meant Bridget had a first cousin, right here in town. In her class. I blinked, wondering if Ali knew about this. Of course she had to. This was Burton. Nothing was hidden.

Maureen was speaking again. “Nice to meet you, but I need to get the paint monster back to my mom before he does real damage. Graham! Get a move on, we’re going to Granny’s house.”

The other parents were straggling in to retrieve their children, and by four o’clock, my classroom was empty. I finished cleaning up and lit out for the farm. I had a date, and I needed time to prepare.

No one was home yet when I got back to the farm. Ali had put pork chops in the slow cooker for dinner, and they smelled delicious. I high-tailed it to my room, where I stripped off my teacher clothes and jumped into the bathtub.

Tonight wouldn’t be our first time having sex, but in my mind, that night in the truck on the side of the road only partly counted. We’d almost been animals that night, mad for each other, and while the intensity was still there in spades, tonight we’d have time to enjoy each other. So I wanted to be perfect. I used my favorite citrus body wash and shaved every part of my body that qualified for that attention.

I had just climbed out of the tub and wrapped myself in a towel when I heard Ali and Bridget get home. Ali stuck her head through the doorway. “Hey. Whatcha doing?”

“I ...” Licking my lips, I tried for a smile. “I have a date. So ... I was getting ready.”

Ali’s eyes wandered down my body, and she grinned. “My brother’s taking you on a date?”

“Yeah. I don’t know where or what. He just told me to meet him at the truck at eight.”

Her eyebrows went up. “Oooooh. Well, then I guess I’ll just say I won’t be waiting up.”

My face burned, and Ali laughed. “In case you’re wondering, no, I’m not going to make this any easier on you. It’s too much fun, seeing the two of you tortured with having to behave yourselves.”

“Thanks.” I tucked the edge of the towel in to the top, securing it against my chest. “I have no idea what to wear, since I don’t know what we’re doing.”

Ali came in and flopped onto the bed. “Around here, you can’t go wrong with jeans. If you’re leaving at eight, he’s not taking you into the city for a fancy dinner. There’s a movie house in Summerville, but jeans would work for that, too.”

“Good thinking.” I pulled out my favorite pair of soft and faded denim and flipped hangers in the closet, looking for a shirt. “Hey, can I ask you something?” I glanced over my shoulder.

“I’m not helping you pick out sexy underwear for tonight. Sorry, I know it’s a girlfriend thing, but when it’s for my brother to see—there’s way too much eww.”

“No, silly.” I shook my head. “I don’t need help with that.” I thought of the expression on his face whenever he lifted my shirt and saw a new bra, and I smiled. “I know what he likes.”

“Way TMI.” Ali shuddered.

“Speaking of which ... I met Maureen Evans today. She came by to pick up Graham.”

Hurt and sadness flickered over Ali’s face. “Oh.”

“I didn’t make the connection at first, but then when I told her where I was living this summer, she got the same look on her face that you have now. She said you used to be friends.”

Ali grabbed one of my pillows and turned onto her stomach. “Yeah, we were. Until her brother left town, and me, and their whole family. I think they blamed me, which was ironic, considering I was the one trying to talk him into staying.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up a painful subject.” I drew a black lace bra and a matching scrap of material that passed for panties out of my drawer and stepped into the bathroom to change, talking to her through the door.

“It’s not your fault. I was really close to all of the Evans until graduation, and then ... I wasn’t. They were like my surrogate family. Maureen was okay with me until I married Craig.”

“And none of them suspected ... ?” I pointed out toward the living room, where I could hear the TV show Bridget was watching.

“I don’t think so. No one ever said anything to me.”

“So Graham is her cousin.” I kept my voice quiet.

Ali laughed, but the sound didn’t have much humor. “Yep. Her one and only.” She shot me a meaningful look. “For now.”

I raised my hands. “Oh, no, my friend. No strings attached, remember? Summer-only deal. No babies. You’re on your own.”

“I’m not that sorry Bridge doesn’t know he’s related to her. That kid’s a piece of work.”

“Yeah, even Maureen said that. She said he’s spoiled because he’s the only grandchild.”

“I know. And don’t think that doesn’t make it tougher ... the thought that my kid’s only grandparents live ten minutes away, and they don’t know it.”

“Do Craig’s parents keep in touch with her?” I thought of my huge extended family back in Florida. The idea of not having any grandparents was inconceivable.

“Not really. Cards at her birthday and Christmas, but I think Craig probably told them the truth after he left. They were great while we were married, but after he moved away, they did, too.”

We both turned our heads at the sound of the kitchen door. “Hey, where are my women?”

Ali and I both laughed, and she climbed up from the bed. “I think that means us. I better go finish up dinner so you two can enjoy your ... date.” She winked at me.

I stood for a minute without moving. Hearing Sam’s words and knowing he was including me in them—his women—gave me a strange feeling that was a mix of longing and panic. I liked the idea, more than I should. The panic came because I dreaded what might happen if Sam began to want more—and I couldn’t give it to him.

I pushed the thought away. Tonight was about romance and fun and just being present in the moment—no worries about the future or the past. And I was determined to make it perfect.

I finished dressing, put on a little makeup and brushed my hair, leaving it down and curly around my face. When I stepped out of the room to go help Ali in the kitchen, I ran full-force into Sam, who was still shirtless and slightly damp.

“Hey.” He caught me by the arms. “Where’s the fire?”

“I think it’s in the kitchen, cooking your dinner.” I grinned up into brown eyes that were devouring me. Taking a step back, I held out my arms. “So? Do I look okay for tonight? Or do I need to be fancier?”

Hunger that had nothing to do with pork chops burned from his face. “You don’t need to be anything else. God, you look good.” He glanced around me at the huge oak grandfather clock that dominated the living room. “How many minutes until eight?”

I laughed. “What’s going to happen at the magical hour of eight? I’m still in the dark about what we’re doing tonight.”

A slow smile spread over his lips, and heat flooded my face. “Okay, so I’m not
completely
in the dark. I have some ideas.”

He stepped closer to me, until I was backed against the wall that was shadowed between my bedroom door and the turn to the kitchen. “In the dark is the key phrase. But I don’t want you to worry. Maybe I should give you a little preview.”

My heart stuttered a little at his nearness. His chest, bared at my eye-level, sent a scorching rush of desire between my legs, and I couldn’t help running my hands over his skin.

Sam tucked me into his body so that I could feel every inch of him. With one finger, he tilted my chin upwards and kissed my mouth. He started slow and sweet, but when I wrapped my arms around his lower back, he growled low and pushed his tongue between my lips.

When we came up for air, I dropped my forehead to his chest. “I need to go help Ali with dinner.”

“Yeah. I need to get a shower.” Neither of us moved.

I lowered my hands to his ass and pressed him closer to me. “IWWA ...”

“We’re changing that, right now. Today it’s not IWWA, it’s WWAA.”

I frowned, and he leaned to whisper in my ear. “When we are alone.”

I sighed. “I can’t wait.”

He slapped me lightly on the butt and stepped back. “Then let’s get through dinner so we don’t have to.”

I was pretty sure Ali’s pork chops were excellent that night, tender and tasty, but they could have been sawdust for all I knew. I ate mechanically, trying to keep up with the conversation and act normal. I didn’t think Ali was fooled, but Bridge didn’t seem to notice anything amiss.

I helped with the dinner dishes, and by then it was nearly seven. Sam was sitting at the kitchen table, playing cards with Bridget.

“That’s enough Go Fish,” he announced after four hands of the game. “Choose something else.”

“Oh, I know! How about Old Maids?” She scrambled down and ran to the cupboard where all her games and books were.

“I don’t know how to play that.” Sam frowned at the deck of unfamiliar cards.

“It’s basically Go Fish, but with different cards.” Ali dried her hands. “They’re all word plays. See, there’s Ben Dover. And Tully Vision. There’s only one Old Maid card, and whoever ends up with it loses.”

“Mama, what’s an old maid?” Bridget began dealing the deck.

“It’s what they used to call women who never got married, sweetie.”

Bridge glanced up at me. “Meghan, are you an old maid?”

I held back a giggle at the horrified look on her mother’s face. “Bridget! No, Meghan is
not
an old maid. And it’s not a very nice thing to say.”

I decided this was an opportunity to educate her. “Bridge, when this game was made up, women felt like they had to be married to amount to anything. But now women can do whatever they want. They can get married or not, they can have any career ... so that’s why we don’t say old maid anymore.”

She nodded, but I wasn’t sure she understood. “I want to get married when I grow up. I’m going to marry Parker Smith, and we’re going to live on his farm because it has horses and pigs, and we’re going to have lots of babies.”

Ali rolled her eyes, but I hurried to answer Bridget. “That’s great, honey, if that’s what you want to do. But there’s a ton of other things out in the world, and you might decide you want to do them, too.”

“Don’t you want to get married, Meghan?” The little girl picked up her cards and scanned them.

The room was silent, and I felt as though everyone was waiting for my answer. “Um, probably. Some day. When the right person comes along, and when I’m ready. But right now I’m too young.”

She cast me a skeptical look. “You’re not too young. Mama was younger than you when she got married.” She laid down a pair of cards and gazed pointedly at Sam. “
You’re
not too young, Uncle Sam. Are you going to get married ever?”

Silence fell again, and I saw Sam’s throat work as he swallowed. “Maybe someday, peanut, but for now, you and your mom are plenty of women for me.”

“And Meghan,” Bridge added.

Sam glanced up at me, his eyes unreadable. “Yep. And Meghan, for sure.”

That same mixed feeling settled in my stomach, and I took a deep breath, wiping my suddenly-damp palms on my jeans.
Just for now
, I reminded myself.

Sam made it through two hands of Old Maid before he stood up, announcing that he had to get some things ready outside. Before Bridget could ask what he was doing, Ali interrupted and reminded her that it was time for a bath and reading.

“Have fun tonight,” she whispered as her daughter dragged her toward the steps. “But don’t tell me about it. I’d like to stay blissfully ignorant if you don’t mind.”

I wiped off the table and stood uncertain in the middle of the kitchen. It was nearly eight, but I wasn’t sure whether or not Sam wanted me outside. I heard him around the truck, and my curiosity was running high.

Before I could peek out the window, the screen door opened, and he stuck his head inside. “Okay, I’m ready. C’mon.”

“Do I need to bring anything?” I rubbed my arms, wondering if I needed a sweatshirt.

“Nope, just yourself.” He held out a hand, and I took it.

The pick-up truck was just outside the door, and two fishing poles leaned against the bed. Sam squeezed my hand and looked down at me with questioning eyes.

“Okay, so if I’m way off base here and you don’t want to do this, I’ve got a plan B. But tell me the truth: are you all right with some night fishing?”

“Are you kidding me?” I reached for the pole nearest me and ran my hand over it. “I’m a beach girl. I love to fish.”

The relief on his face was adorable. “Good. I thought it would be fun. I’ve got a special place picked out, and I think you’ll like it.” He pulled me around to the other side of the truck, tossing the fishing stuff into the back over a tarp as we rounded the tailgate.

Sam started up the engine and within a few minutes, we were bumping along a rough dirt road, heading into the woods. He’d taken my hand again when he started driving, and now he pressed it to his thigh.

“In case I forget to say it later, you look gorgeous tonight. I couldn’t stop looking at you when we were eating dinner.”

I tightened my fingers around his. “I’ve been rushing through this whole day, just to get to tonight. I don’t even remember eating dinner.”

He turned sharply, and we were deeper into the trees. The canopy of branches hid the stars and moon, and the night was full-on black. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the seat.

“Are you tired?” Sam’s thumb rubbed the top of my hand.

“No.” I turned my head and smiled at him. “Just enjoying the present. The quiet and the dark.”

“Well, look ahead now, just for a minute.” He took a left, and suddenly we were in a clearing. The sky stretched over us with a million stars, and before us, moonlight gleamed on a beautiful expanse of blue water. I caught my breath.

“Oh, Sam, it’s so pretty.” I leaned forward, checking out the sloping bank that led down to the river. “Is this where we’re fishing?”

He nodded. “Yeah, this is my favorite spot.” He pulled the truck alongside the water, as close as he could get without getting stuck. “Wait here a second.”

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