Wild Cowboy Ways (Lucky Penny Ranch #1)(64)

Singing, “I May Never Get to Heaven,” Conway’s voice came through the speaker above his head. The lyrics said that he might never get to heaven but he once came mighty close. Blake shut his eyes and visualized Allie lying next to him on the mattress/bed. Could that have really only been a few hours ago? It seemed like nothing more than a dream or a little taste of what Conway was singing about. Any of the women he’d met that evening would give him a good time, but all he wanted was to go home to Allie.

“Where you been?” Deke motioned him to the end of the bar and pointed at the empty seat on the other side of Toby when he returned to the bar. “Me and Toby been havin’ us a good time.”

Six weeks ago, he would have been in heaven, but that night, even with the toe-stomping line dancing, he felt as out of place as a hooker on the front row of a tent revival. Then of all things that Mama Fate could throw at him, Blake Shelton started singing “Home.”

Blake fished his phone out of his back pocket even though it hadn’t vibrated or rang. “Excuse me. I have to take this, so I’ll step outside.”

He sucked in the cold, clean night air and leaned against the porch post. The lyrics of the song said that he felt like he was living someone else’s life, that another day had come and gone and he wanted to go home. He talked about being surrounded by a million people and yet he felt all alone.

What in the hell was wrong with him? He should be in there flirting with all the women, making passes at the ones who were across the room with another cowboy, and picking out the three he would choose among. The lucky one would go home with him. He didn’t usually run from women and yet there he was thinking of going home without even a telephone number.

And why did every damn song remind him of Allie in some way?

Another song started but the last one about going home was stuck in his mind so strongly that he couldn’t hear anything else. He wanted to be home with Shooter, maybe working alongside Allie. Hell, pulling nails out of the ceiling made him happier than he was right now.

“Shit,” he muttered. “I’ve turned into the designated driver.”

Toby poked his head out the door and asked, “Something wrong? The redhead said you got an important call.”

“Nothing’s wrong.” He paused. “Actually, everything’s wrong. Think you could catch a ride home with Deke? I’m just gonna head home,” Blake said.

“Sure thing. I know he won’t mind. We might even leave here and go find a quieter place with Lisa and Laney,” Toby said.

“Have fun,” Blake said. “See you at home. Keep in mind that you’re sleeping on the couch.”

“I don’t mind stackin’.” Toby laughed.



It wasn’t fair.

Lizzy had flat out sabotaged Allie and she was miserable as hell sitting in the living room watching a damn old boring movie with Grady and Mitch, but there wasn’t anything she could do to get out of it. And it was Friday night! She could be at Frankie’s with Deke and Blake like last week.

As luck would have it, Granny had even turned in early and wasn’t wandering through the room. She’d tried to get her mother to stick around and watch the movie with them but oh, no, she went to bed with a book. So now Allie was stuck on the sofa with Grady’s arm around her.

She made an excuse to go to the bathroom and slid down the back of the door, sitting on the floor with her knees up and her face buried in her hands. Three hours earlier she’d been sleeping in Blake’s arms with the most beautiful afterglow in the whole damn world surrounding them.

“You okay in there?” Lizzy asked from the other side of the door.

“No, I think I’m getting that bug you had,” Allie said.

“Well, crap! And you and Grady were having such a good time. I guess you’d best go on up to your room so you don’t give it to him and Mitch,” Lizzy said. “I should’ve known you were catchin’ it when you came in from the Lucky Penny with scarlet cheeks. I’ll tell Grady. He’ll be disappointed.”

“Sorry,” Allie lied.

She waited to stand up and sneak up the stairs to her room until she could hear the drone of Lizzy’s voice in the living room. Once inside her room she couldn’t sit still. Pacing from one side to the other, she wondered what Blake was doing right then. Were he and Toby watching some old western movie and drinking beer? Was Shooter as glad to see Toby as he was to see her nearly every day lately? Or were they all three out with a flashlight showing Toby all the work that Blake had gotten done the past few weeks?

She turned on the radio to the classic country music station and curled up in the old overstuffed rocking chair in the corner, slinging her legs over the arm. Granny had rocked her to sleep in this same chair when she was a little girl and it always brought her comfort to sit in it, but not that night. She went to the window, pulled back the curtain, and looked outside and then picked up a book from her nightstand. It didn’t interest her so she put it back.

The DJ announced that the next hour would be a tribute to Alan Jackson and if anyone had requests to call in. Then he started playing, “Small Town Southern Man.”

She couldn’t listen to the song because it was too sad in light of how badly she wanted Blake Dawson to be that small-town Southern man who’d be content with a wife and small-town living. She turned the radio off and hit the POWER button on the television remote.