and purchased some beater more appropriate for farm country. It’s not cheap to keep a fancy-ass car so long, so she must be hanging on to it for a reason—like a quick getaway.
I should be happy about that. I should also be happy about the fact that she took the paper Bryce handed her today and didn’t seem too upset by the number. He stepped up his game after she said she wasn’t giving the farm away. Her choice of words alluded to the fact that she’d consider selling it, for the right price.
“So where exactly are we going again?” I ask.
She grins as she looks at me, her hair a bit of a mess after putting my friends and me through the dance routine earlier. I have to say, she’s really helping Colin out, and she knows what she’s doing. She beamed with confidence as we learned the moves. Now she needs to find the confidence in other aspects of her life and accept the consequences if she fails. And goddammit if she doesn’t need just one friend who will catch her if she does.
After the dance routine, all the guys hit the pub for a beer, but Alyson asked if I’d come with her. She has something she wants to show me, apparently. I have something I want to show her, too, but we’re driving away from our farms, not toward them, meaning wherever we’re going, I probably can’t get her naked.
“You’ll see when we get there.” She drives longer, taking this turn and that and glancing around, a little lost.
I stretch my legs out. “If you told me where we were going, I could tell you how to get there.”
“I can figure it out.”
“Always so stubborn,” I grumble, as she takes a right on Fletcher Street. Understanding dawns. “We’re going to the drive-in?”
“Yup.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re all work and no play, and I thought you needed a night out.”
I reach across the seat and touch her leg. “A night in would be just as fun.”
She laughs. “One-track mind much?”
“Pretty much.” But the truth is I can’t seem to get enough of her. Can’t get her out of my thoughts for one single second. I’m consumed by her.
“You know, I’ve never been to a drive-in before,” she informs me.
I sit up a little straighter. “You’ve got to be kidding me?”
“Nope, been to Broadway, off Broadway, opera houses, but never to a drive-in.”
“I guess you can only find them in redneck country now,” I say, and for some reason I want her to vehemently defend that. Need for her to tell me she doesn’t think farmers are all dumb as stumps and that we do important work. In fact, what I really need is for her to prove she’s not like Juanita—despite the fact that my future depends on her following in my ex fiancée’s footsteps and bailing.
I am so fucked.
She doesn’t comment. Instead, her eyes go big when the screen rises up before us. She slows her vehicle as we go down the long, winding road, stopping when we come to a ticket booth.
I reach for my wallet, but she stops me. “Tonight’s on me,” she says and pays for our entrance.
We creep into the viewing area. “There’s not many people here.”
“Saturdays can be packed, but not too many people come on a Sunday night.” I point to a spot away from the two vehicles parked in the middle. “Park over there.”
Darkness surrounds us as she pulls into the spot and fiddles with the radio to find the station broadcasting the show. “This is so cool,” she says, her voice full of excitement.
I grin at her. “If you’ve never been to a drive-in, that must mean you’ve never made out in a car before.”
She blinks at me innocently. “Well, I wouldn’t go so far as to say that. There was this one time behind the high school.”
“Not the same,” I inform her. “Making out at the drive-in is in a class of its own. It’s like a rite of passage around these parts.”
She makes a face. “Is that true, or are you just trying to get into my panties?”
“Both,” I say, and she laughs.
“It does sound like fun.” She wipes the window and looks out. “First, let’s get some snacks.”
She opens the door, and the cooler night air washes over us as we make our way to the concession stand. We buy drinks, popcorn, and candy, and I swear to God, she’s acting like Tyler on Christmas morning. Full of