Cowboy Player: Cowboy Cocktail, Book 3 Read Free Page B

backs of Harmony’s bare thighs and together they looked like they were doing a very private dance in public.
    “What the hell!” Melody exclaimed. “Harmony!”
    Harmony popped up, surprised. Her lipstick was smeared across her mouth and one strap of her dress hung off her shoulder. “Holy shit, Mel!” she exclaimed. She looked between Melody and Clark and after a couple of seconds, began to giggle. She was drunk as a skunk. “You two look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
    “Yeah, the ghost of my sister’s dignity.” Melody went over and adjusted Harmony’s dress. “Get up. We’re going home.”
    “What? Why?”
    “Why? Because drinking is fine. Dancing is fine. Having sex in public? Not fine.” Melody grabbed Harmony’s wrist and pulled her to her feet.
    “Easy now,” Clark said softly. He took Harmony’s elbow and helped her get her balance.
    Melody looked into the dark booth to see who’d taken advantage of her sister. “You’ve got some nerve. She’s wasted. I have a mind to call the cops on you.”
    The guy held up his hands. “Please don’t call the cops.” His words were slurred. He was as drunk as Harmony. “I just did what Clark said to do and the next thing I know—”
    Melody knocked the hat off the cowboy’s head to get a look at his face. “Holy fuck! Lucky!”
    He blinked. “I’m so sorry, Melody. We just got carried away.”
    Behind her, Clark let out a hoot. When Melody glared at him, he pressed his lips together, but his eyes were still laughing. “No harm done, Mel,” he said, holding Harmony up as she swayed on her feet. “Come on. Let’s get these two train wrecks home.”
    * * * * *
    Harmony passed out somewhere on the way between Lucky’s house and the trailer. When they got home, Clark carried Harmony into her bedroom and lay her down in her pink ruffled bed. As Clark looked at Harmony’s swimming trophies and first-place ribbons from science fairs, Melody removed her sister’s endless jewelry: hoop earrings, jangling bracelets, rings. Each cheap metal piece clanked into the porcelain bowl on the nightstand.
    When she came to, Harmony sang Carrie Underwood songs in between sighs and dreamy murmurings about what a blast the party had been. She began to complain that her sister was no fun, and why did Clark have to be such a stick in the mud tonight of all nights? All the girls said he was a good time. Apparently all the good times were done now that Clark was old. Ancient. As old as Melody, her sister who was as boring as all get-out.
    Melody tucked the pink comforter under Harmony’s chin. “Because you’re being unpleasant, I’m going to leave your makeup on your face.” She kissed Harmony’s forehead. “I hope you break out.”
    “You’re a mean old lady.”
    “Duly noted.”
    Clark brought a glass of water from the kitchen and an old pink crazy straw he’d found in the drawer. Melody held it up to Harmony’s lips and made her little sister take three big gulps of water.
    “I don’t want any more.”
    “I don’t care what you want. You’re going to drink this so that you don’t dehydrate and wake up hungover.”
    When Melody and Clark walked out of the bedroom and closed the door, Harmony was already snoring.
    “She’ll be in bad shape tomorrow.” Clark sat down on the sofa. He took off his hat and ran a hand through his thick, dark hair.
    “At least her first day of work isn’t until Monday.” Melody turned on the lamp, suddenly shy even though she had no reason to be.
    “You know, I don’t think I’ve been inside your house since high school.”
    “It hasn’t changed much.”
    Clark looked at the old turntable across from the couch. Next to it, a glass-doored cabinet held hundreds of LPs. “Damn,” he said. “Were all those your mom’s?”
    “Mom’s and Dad’s, all mixed together. Play whatever you want, make yourself comfortable—you want a drink?”
    “What do you have?” He took off his boots, got up and opened the