The First Law of Love by Abbie Williams Read Free Book Online Page B

remembered well. Clark and Quinn resumed grilling steaks on the charcoal grill, and there were appetizers spread across the outdoor table, chips and salsa, a platter of veggies with sour cream dip, but I was content to sip the icy, delicious gin and tonic, my perennial favorite.
    It went down a little too well and Wy was quick to refill me almost the second I downed the last swallow, catching an ice cube in my mouth, crunching it as I studied the mountains on the western horizon, which were backlit by a mellow honey glow and reminded me of a dinosaur lying on its side. I heard myself make this observation, along with a giggle, and then Marshall, who was on the glider nearest my chair, snorted a laugh and said, “Wy, I think you’re mixing Tish’s drinks a little strong, bro.”
    â€œI’m just making them how you guys like,” Wy defended, plopping down on my left. He had found a faded gray cowboy hat on the deck, which he settled over his shaggy hair and adjusted with his right hand. From beneath its too-big brim, he regarded me with a smile.
    â€œ Shee-it ,” Marshall said, drawing out the word, and then everyone was laughing, me included.
    â€œI’m not drunk,” I assured them. “Just…relaxed.”
    I was surprised to find that this was true. It could be the gin, the company, the scent in the air, the guitar music on the radio. I couldn’t define it exactly and decided not to try. I settled my shoulder blades more comfortably into the cushions behind me. Marshall was using his thumbs to drum along with the beat.
    â€œThis is us,” he told me.
    â€œHmmm?” I asked, not following.
    â€œOne more?” Wy asked me, nodding at my empty glass.
    Shit, is that already gone?
    â€œSure, thanks,” I smiled as charmingly as I could manage at Wy.
    â€œMe, Case and Garth,” Marshall explained. “We got in a few recording sessions at a studio in Billings two years ago, when we still played regularly.”
    â€œYou guys don’t play anymore?” I asked, having to concentrate slightly more than normal on my words. I saw Marshall’s eyebrows lift in amusement.
    â€œToo busy, mostly,” Marshall replied. To Wy, who was approaching with a fresh drink in hand, he complained, “Where’s mine?”
    â€œI only wait on beautiful women,” Wy said, smooth as whipped cream, and I giggled as I accepted the glass, accidentally sloshing some onto my hand. It wasn’t until I realized I was licking the gin from my wrist that I understood I was pretty damn toasted.
    Sean’s girlfriend Jessie said to Wy, teasing him, “Hey, in that case, grab me a beer!”
    â€œCamille told me you guys are really good,” I said to Marshall, who grinned at once.
    â€œWe’ll play at the local fair next week,” he said. “And sometimes in the bars around here, just for fun. We all have day jobs now. Can’t be out on the town quite so much.”
    â€œOh, whatever,” Sean contradicted his brother. “You’re out on the town as much as you ever were.”
    â€œNo, sir,” Marshall disagreed, but there was a teasing gleam in his eye. The song switched from a fast-paced guitar to something sweeter and slower; though I was no musician, I recognized a fiddle.
    Indicating the music by lifting my glass into the air, I said honestly, “This is really beautiful. You guys play a lot of old-time music, my sister said.”
    â€œWe do, but original stuff too,” Marshall told me. He seemed to be watching me carefully (but maybe I was imagining this), as he said, “Case writes most of our music. He wrote most of the CD that’s playing now.”
    I heard myself ask, “Is Case coming for supper?”
    Was I a little curious to see him?
    Maybe , I allowed.
    â€œNot tonight,” Wy informed me, returning with Jessie’s beer. “He’s over in Miles City tonight. But he said