A Brand New Ending (Page 36)

“Bet he’d know how to make you roar, though,” Mia quipped.

Ophelia laughed. “Oh my God, that’s as bad as Ethan and Kyle together. What is it about men? Why does their intelligence factor drop when they’re hanging with friends? I never got it.”

“I never understood men at all,” Harper grumbled, taking a swig of her beer.

“You dating anyone?” Mia asked, propping her hand under her chin and regarding Harper. “You’ve got that mysterious quality men go crazy over. Plus, you’re hot.”

“I’m not hot.”

Mia gasped. “Yes you are! Holy crap, with your dark hair, green eyes, and lean figure? Add in the way you connect to animals and can banter like a badass—you are a catch.”

Harper scoffed and rolled her eyes. Ophelia still couldn’t understand why her sister lacked confidence when it came to male attention. She was so sure in all aspects of her life except her sexuality.

Ophelia slid her hand across the table and squeezed her sister’s. “Mia’s right. I know you’re happy with your life, but you should give dating a chance. You may find love.”

“I don’t know if I believe in love,” Harper said. “The few dates I’ve gone on made me feel lonelier than I did home alone. Does that make sense?”

Mia nodded. “Totally. That’s why I stopped dating, too—before I met your brother. And of course, because I got cheated on.”

Ophelia winced and grabbed her water to try and hydrate. “Assholes weren’t worthy of you.”

“Ethan told me the same thing.”

“He’s right. I’m just so glad you both found each other. I’ve never seen him so happy,” Ophelia said.

Mia smiled. “I feel the same way. So are you and Kyle doing it?”

Ophelia choked and slammed the glass back on the table. “What did you ask?”

“You heard me. What’s going on?”

Harper cracked up, practically wiping her eyes in mirth. “Damn, that was good. I’m glad Mia asked, because I’ve been dying to all evening. I heard he took you to dinner at Crystal’s. Maureen said you were looking quite chummy. Are you hooking up again?”

Crap. She had no idea anyone even suspected she still wanted to jump into bed with her ex. Of course, it was pretty hard to keep secrets in this town, and she should’ve known these two females were too savvy to be fooled.

She frowned, trying to figure out what to say. She’d kept the real story from Harper during their talk in the barn, but the growing need to talk to someone she trusted shook within.

Her feelings for Kyle confused her, and she desperately needed an outlet. Harper and Mia were family.

This time, she didn’t try to hold back when the words loosened and flew out of her mouth.

“If I tell you a secret, do you swear not to tell Ethan?”

Mia bit her lip. “Is it a female pact thing? I can’t lie to him.”

“I’m not asking you to lie . . . just don’t say anything.”

“I can do that,” Mia said. Harper agreed.

Ophelia filled her lungs with air and then let it out. “We got married when we ran off to California together.”

“What?” they shouted together. A group to their right shot them a look, and Ophelia leaned in, lowering her voice.

“Yes. We were young and in love, so we eloped, thinking we could do and be anything we wanted to as long as we were together. But after a year and a half, the innocence wore off. We had a huge falling-out, and I came home.”

“Holy shit,” Harper breathed out. “I didn’t see that one coming. Sex, yes. Marriage, no. Why didn’t you tell us?”

Guilt hit her. “At first it was like this big, delicious secret—straight out of a romance movie. And I didn’t want anyone to talk me out of it by saying we were too young, or to wait longer, or that it wasn’t smart. I just wanted to marry the man I loved with no one holding us back. Does that make sense?”

Harper nodded. “Yeah, but how come you didn’t tell me later?”

“It became easier keeping it a secret, especially when we decided to divorce. I wanted to move on with my life.”

“So you’ve been divorced for all this time. I get it,” Mia said. “No wonder you didn’t want him staying with you.”

“There’s more,” she said. Her heart pounded, but the beer funnel helped lower her protective walls. “The divorce never went through. Our lawyer was a scam artist . . . so we’re still legally married.”

Mia’s mouth fell open. Harper stared in shock.

Relief loosened her muscles. Finally, she had shared her secret. She felt like a new person.

“I gotta pee,” she announced.

“No!” Mia shouted. “We need more info. I have a billion questions.”

“Hold that thought. I’ll be right back.”

She waited in a long line for the ladies’ bathroom while glaring at the nonexistent queue for the men’s room, then shuffled crookedly back to the table, trying hard not to stumble. She’d just reached her seat when some of her favorite, iconic music blasted over the speakers and cries of excitement shot in the air.

“‘Living on a Prayer’!” she shouted. “Oh my God, I love Bon Jovi. Let’s go dance!”

“Now? We need the rest of the story,” Mia demanded.

Ophelia grabbed their hands and dragged them onto the overcrowded dance floor. “Not now—it’s time to boogie!”

Harper groaned. “You’re so trashed.”

Mia laughed. “She is, but dancing will help. We still have one more stop before our evening is over, so we’ll have time to get the details out of her later. Let’s go.”

Ophelia agreed and sang the lyrics she knew by heart. The bright flashing lights flooded the floor, and bodies pressed in on her. All joined in the quest to let go for a few moments and let the music take them away.

Ophelia threw her head back and surrendered.

Chapter Fifteen

Kyle stepped into the small dive bar and groaned. It was karaoke night, and it already looked like a fire hazard. “Dude, why don’t we go home? It’s late.”

Ethan’s features were set in determination, as if he was embarking on a mission. “It’s not even one a.m. I’m not old.”

Kyle groaned again and rubbed his head. “Oh hell. Are you actually listening to those bozos? Who cares if we don’t hang out at the bars anymore? I’m okay admitting I want to go to sleep.”

After burgers and a brownie bomber sundae, they’d run into some guys from high school who were on a serious mission to do some partying damage. They’d played catch-up on who was married, who was divorced, and who worked a job they didn’t despise, then made some jabs about Ethan never being seen partying in town. Kyle shrugged it off, but it seemed his friend had something to prove. Ethan insisted they walk down Main Street to the Depot to see what they had going on.

“I’m not getting home before Mia,” he announced, deftly maneuvering them through the thick press of bodies and to the bar. “We’re having fun, right? We’re partying.”

Kyle smothered a yawn. “Sure.”

Ethan yelled something Kyle didn’t catch.

“Huh? I can’t hear you.” A very bad version of “I Will Survive” assaulted his ears and made him wince. That damn woman-hear-me-roar song gave him goose bumps—it usually was a setup for a dramatic breakup.