The Last One (32 page)

“With Laura. When I first saw you. Even though you were passed out, and we only had that one moment when your eyes opened, there was something that made me ...” I wasn’t sure how to say it. I was a farmer with a business degree, not a poet. I struggled to find the right words. “Something that drew me to you. I wanted to hold you in my arms longer. But I told myself that was crazy, and you were a college kid, and we’d never have anything in common. And when I drove away, I thought it was okay, because I’d never see you again.”

“And then we ran into each other at Boomer’s, and you realized you were wrong.” She kissed my chest, and my heart sped up.

“Yeah, and I handled it like a champ.” I shook my head. “When I walked into my living room and saw you there back in June, I think part of me decided the third time had to be the charm.”

She nuzzled into my neck again. “Are you sorry, Sam? That we had this summer? Do you wish you’d talked me out of it?”

I brought my arms down to draw her closer. “Never. I know we got off to a rough start, but these few months—” I swallowed and tried to ignore the stinging in my eyes. I hadn’t cried since my parents’ accident. Hell if I was going to start now. “They’ve been good. Fun. I’m glad we could be friends.”

“Friends. Yes.” She echoed my words, but I couldn’t decipher her tone. “I’m glad, too.”

Silence surrounded us. I ran my fingers up and down her arm as the frogs chirped and the crickets sang. Meghan was quiet for so long that I thought she might have fallen asleep until she turned over, propping her chin on my sternum. “I’m hot.”

“Yeah, baby, you are.” I brushed the back of my knuckles over her cheek.

“Goof.” She swatted at my hand. “I want to go for a swim.”

I raised my eyebrows. “You do? I thought you were afraid of snakes and frigid water.”

She pushed herself up. “No, not tonight. I want to do everything. I want to swim with you, and I want you to take me hard in the water. And then I want to come back here and lick all the water off your body and take our time to make love, take it so slow we think we’re going to die from waiting.”

I studied her eyes, bright with unshed tears, desperate to forget that tomorrow would come. Touching her lips, I smiled.

“Then that’s what we’ll do.”

WE DRESSED IN THE early morning, both of us sated and sleepy. My stomach clenched as I watched Meghan lean over to pick up her shirt, her boobs swinging. I didn’t know how she could make me hard again after the night we’d just shared, but she did.

As if by silent agreement, we hadn’t talked about anything serious for the rest of the evening. Meghan cried again the last time I sank between her legs, and I’d kissed away her tears, but I didn’t ask her why she wept and she didn’t bring it up.

The truck rocked us up and down over the potholed road, and I reached to hold her hand. Her fingers squeezed mine, painfully, as she stared out the window.

I pulled into my normal spot alongside the barn. A stream of sunlight broke through the dim glow of dawn, and for a moment I watched the beam dance on the sparse grass of the path that led to the fields.

Neither of us moved. This was the last minute, and once I opened my door and went around to help her out of the truck, the spell would be broken. Summer—at least, my summer with Meghan—would be officially over.

I wasn’t ready. I knew it with certainty, but knowing it didn’t change the facts. And the facts said that Meghan still had another year of college, and by her own admission, she wasn’t looking for anything long-term or permanent. She was recovering from her dad’s death, and she was struggling to figure out who she was. I had a hunch that the series of short-term hookups and boyfriends were over; there was still pain in her heart over what had happened with Owen, and that wasn’t going to go away any time soon.

I didn’t know what I was going to say until the words spilled out of my mouth. “I was wrong in what I said to you at Boomer’s that day, and what I said the night we had sex the first time. The night alongside the road, that is.” I shot her a grin and gripped her hand tighter. “When we met, I only saw your immaturity. It was what I wanted to see, because setting you up like that let me keep you at a distance.” I stared out the windshield. “But what I didn’t see then, and what wouldn’t let me keep you at arms’ length, was your heart.”

She drew a long, shuddering breath, but she didn’t respond.

“Meghan, your heart is beautiful. It’s kind and loving and compassionate. I’ve seen you with Bridget, and with the rest of the kids in your class, and I’ve seen you with people in town. You ... you draw them in. And that’s because of the person you are.”

She shook her head, full out sobbing now.

“You’re going to have any future you want. It’s all bright and shiny, you know? The world is open to you. I hope you take it and run. I hope you shock the hell out of anyone stupid enough to underestimate you. And I hope that sometimes, you think back on this summer, and me, and you smile. I hope you remember me ... well. Not the raving lunatic, but maybe the guy who took you fishing.”

I couldn’t say anything else. I reached for the handle that opened my door, but before I could move out of the cab, Meghan grabbed my arm. “Sam. I don’t want to leave. I don’t want this summer to be over. I don’t want
us
to be over. It hurts, and I can’t stand it.”

I pulled her close to me, my arms tight around her shoulders. “Shhh, babe. I know. But it’ll get better. Leaving is hard, but you know you don’t belong here. This little town can’t hold the future you have. You’ll go down to Florida and be with your family, and by the time you’re back in Savannah for school, it won’t hurt anymore. You have so much to look forward to.” I forced myself to try to make the words believable. “And so do I. A lot of work, yeah, but I’m going to have time for fun now, too. You’ve reminded me of that. So thank you.”

I kissed the top of her head and opened my door. “Come on. You need to get a little sleep before you leave. I don’t want you nodding off on the road.”

I closed my door and struggled to get myself under control as I walked around the truck. When I reached the passenger’s side, Meghan gave me her hand and let me help her out.

I wrapped her into my arms, holding her one last time. I could feel the pounding of her heart against mine, her breasts crushed to my chest. Her tears wet my shirt, and her curls tickled my chin. When her sobs slowed, I leaned back, and gripping her chin, I kissed her with slow surety, pouring everything I’d felt this summer into one last shared touch.

I stepped back, rubbing her upper arms. “Go on inside now. Go to bed and get some sleep.” I dared to lift my fingers to her cheek one last time. “Sleep well.”

“Sam, I—” She tried to speak, but she was crying too hard. I turned her toward the house, led her up the steps and opened the door. With one last glance, she stepped into the kitchen. I closed the screen, and for a second, she stood there, her hands against the door. And then she turned and vanished into the shadows of the house.

I stalked away, and climbing into the farm truck, I gunned the engine, breaking the silence of the dawn. I didn’t stop until I reached the fields farthest from the house. When I got out of the truck, I squatted by the tender shoots of collards and spinach that were just beginning to appear, part of our fall crop. Fingering the leaves, I sat there for a long time, waiting for the smell of the soil and the green fields to give me the comfort it always did.

Today, it didn’t work.

I HADN’T CRIED THIS hard since Daddy died. I lay in the room which wasn’t really mine any longer—after I left, I knew it would go back to being Grandma’s—and I wept until I fell asleep. Even then, my dreams were troubled and tumultuous.

Sunlight across my face woke me a few hours later. I rubbed at my swollen, gritty eyes and stumbled out into the kitchen, disoriented. Ali sat at the table, a cup of coffee in front of her.

“Hey.” She didn’t tease me this morning or even try to make me smile. Instead she stood up and retrieved a mug from the cabinet. She poured my coffee, added milk and sugar and set it down on the table. “Sit.”

I obeyed, and she gave me a few minutes to come to life as I drank.

“Thank you.” When I could trust myself to speak, I offered her a forced smile. “This is perfect.” I took another sip. “Why aren’t you at the stand?”

“I told Cassie that I wouldn’t be in until later. Bridge and I wanted to see you off.” Her eyes were sad, but I saw understanding there, too. Resignation. “I wasn’t sure what time you were leaving.”

I shrugged. “I guess any time. Everything’s pretty much packed.”

Ali toyed with the handle of her mug. “Are you waiting for Sam to come home?”

“No.” I shook my head. “We already said good-bye. This morning. I can’t do that again.” I didn’t know how I could have any tears left, but they trickled down my face anyway.

Ali laid her hand over mine on the table. “Okay.” She hesitated, and I knew she was trying to decide what to say. “Meghan, are you sure about this? I know you and Sam have this no-strings policy, whatever that is, but it doesn’t look like it’s making you happy. He’s been walking around for days like someone shot his dog, and your eyes are so puffy, I can tell you’ve been doing some hard crying. Something that hurts this much might not be the right decision.”

I swallowed back a sob that threatened to break loose. “This is what we both need, Ali. Sam told me this morning. He wants me to leave, and you know, he’s right. This is what we agreed to, and changing the rules just because someone changed her mind isn’t fair.” I met her eyes. “I have to finish school. I have a life waiting for me, outside of Burton.”

“I know that, but where is it written that you have to give up one to have the other? Meghan, you go to school forty-five minutes away. That’s not exactly a long-distance relationship. And it’s only until you graduate. Then you could take up Mrs. Abbott’s offer and come back here for good. Did you even tell Sam what she said?”

I gripped Ali’s hand. “No, and don’t you, either. I won’t stay here and hang around like some pathetic little girl when he wants to move on. If he wanted me to stay, he would’ve told me. You know Sam. There’s no beating around the bush.”

“Maybe not, but he’s still a guy. And sometimes guys speak in a language that we don’t always understand. He might not have said the words, Meghan, but I know my brother. He wants you to stay. Or at least not leave for good. He’s in love with you, Meghan. It’s plain to everyone, except maybe you.”

I stared at her, and this time I couldn’t fight the tears. “No, he’s not. He pushed me away this morning. He told me I had a lot to look forward to, and so did he. He says he’s going to have fun now because I reminded him about that. And if that’s the only good thing to come out of this summer, then I’m glad.” I dropped my forehead onto my hand. “Don’t let him crawl back into his hole, Ali. Make him take you out to do stuff. And make him go on real dates, not just skulking around town with whatever woman he’s banging at the time.”

Ali rolled her eyes. “You’re both so blind. I could just smack you. And if you think I can make Sam do anything, maybe you don’t know my brother as well as I think you do.”