There’s nothing like the feel and sound of a big American V-8. Sadly, it was only a short ride to the old farmhouse so it was over far too soon. I p...rked it in the garage next to the Plymouth and reluctantly handed over the keys. Uncle Joe threw a couple of steaks on the grill while I heated up some beans and corn. We ate outside on the back deck each had a couple of beers before moving inside to escape from the mosquitos. Once inside we each took a quick shower and gathered in the living room.. We hit one of the more upscale joints, still a meat market but with a live band and table service. There was a healthy boy-girl ratio, but even if it tilted heavily yin Amy wouldn't need to worry about competition.I parked her at a low two-top and settled in at the bar, swiveling around to take in her table and the dance floor as I sipped a peaty single-malt. It didn't take long for the bees to start buzzing around the honey. Wait, no, we were fishing. Damn metaphors.Amy knew what she wanted. More

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