A Bachelor For The Bride (The Brides of Grazer's Corners #2)

by Mindy Neff

  “Guess we’ll have to expand your wardrobe.”

  Before she realized what he was about, he’d squatted in front of her. As if he were checking a horse’s hoof for stones, he gripped her ankle and lifted her foot. Off-balance, she grabbed his shoulders, stunned when he snapped off the heel of her shoe.

  “What in the world?”

  He stared up at her, a strand of dark hair escaping the impromptu ponytail she’d fashioned. “Now the other one.”

  Lost in those mesmerizing whiskey eyes, she automatically shifted her weight and stood like a docile filly as he deliberately ruined her bridal pumps.

  He was kneeling before her, much the way a groom would do while taking off his bride’s garter.

  Under her jeans was that article. Blue satin trimmed with white lace. But there was no gathering of single men waiting for the sexy item to be tossed—to determine who would dance with the lucky recipient who’d caught the wedding bouquet.

  Dear Lord, Charity Arden had caught the bouquet. And under scary circumstances. Jordan hoped there wasn’t a bad omen in that. Charity deserved better.

  And thinking about wedding rituals sent worries tumbling through her mind. She couldn’t help but consider the waste—the endless wedding preparations, the money spent on deposits, caterers, flowers, nets of birdseed, an elaborate champagne fountain, the multitiered cake decorated in white-on-white with strategically placed, fresh-cut orchids. So many details, from extravagant to simple, amounting to a small fortune.

  A fortune gone down the drain. Funds her father couldn’t afford to lose. He’d lost too much already.

  And what of the friends and family who’d plunked down good money on gifts? Rearranged their schedules in order to attend what should have been a special day—particularly those who’d come from out of town?

  And my God, she’d pawned her wedding dress, sealing any hope of salvaging the day.

  The list of zingers appeared endless, each sending a stinging dart to her midsection. In mere minutes, everything familiar about her life had been snatched away.

  Had she subconsciously started the downfall last night? Had she wanted freedom so badly, a walk on the wild side, so desperately that she’d sacrificed everything and everybody to get it?

  Worry escalated, running rampant, making her dizzy.

  What if someone at Gatlin’s had recognized her, overheard her plans with Charity and decided to cash in?

  Tanner touched her cheek and she jumped, having forgotten for the moment that he was even there.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “I shouldn’t be here.” Her gaze clung to him, pleading for validation, for reassurance. “Did I make a mistake? Leaving that way?”

  His shoulders lifted. “The guy had a gun, Jordan.” He patted his breast pocket where the ransom note lay. “Greed makes a man reckless...and determined.”

  “Maybe Randall and some of the other men could have tackled them.”

  Tanner snorted, letting her know his opinion on that front.

  Jordan felt disloyal because a part of her agreed with him. Randall wasn’t the type of man to initiate or participate in confrontations. The extent of his muscle flexing was at the country-club gym with a forty-pound barbell. Even when she’d ridden off with Tanner, her intended husband hadn’t taken the first step off the church threshold to give chase.

  Still, she felt honor-bound to defend her groom. “They were kind of far away, I suppose.”

  He didn’t challenge her excuse. “It’s probably just as well. In a crowd that size, a stray bullet can turn into tragedy.”

  Eerie chills tracked down her spine, and she looked toward the lake, staring at the powerboat bumping gently against the wooden dock. It was tragic enough that she’d agreed to give her hand in marriage, made a promise that she’d longed to run from.

  A loss of lives because of her—even indirectly—would have been devastating.

  Tanner had mounted the porch and was in the process of trying various keys in the lock. In an effort to calm herself, Jordan drew in a breath of sweet, June air, then joined him there, tamping down a twinge of unease about their isolation.

  Any minute now, the enormity of the day was bound to close in on her. In the meantime, she fought the suffocation, the uncertainty, trying desperately to look on the events as an adventure.

  “You’ve probably got an unjust kidnapping charge hanging over your head,” she commented when he jammed the fourth key into the lock. “Are we about to add breaking and entering to the list?”

  “Just when I think you’re a fairly down-to-earth chick, you go into that deb talk.”

  That stung. “I was kidding.” Didn’t the man have a sense of humor?

  “Yeah,” he said as the door swung open. “So was I.”

  “Oh.” She was having trouble reading him. Nerves, probably.

  The inside of the house lived up to the exterior’s promise. Understated elegance, she noted, with a breathtaking wall of glass that looked out on the serene lake.

  She moved to stand by the windows, feeling the noonday sun penetrate the panes, warming her.

  “Are there neighbors?”

  “Not for several miles. It’s unlikely anyone will find you here.”

  A statement like that should have made her nervous. After all, Tanner was a virtual stranger, a man she hadn’t seen since they were both teens.

  A bad-boy misfit from the wrong side of the tracks.

  But against all reason, she wasn’t concerned about her safety with Tanner.

  The sexual tension fairly screaming between them was another matter altogether. It made even small talk difficult.

  With her back to the room, she saw his reflection in the panes of the window as he prowled the space, checking the corners and furnishings as though he expected kidnappers to jump out toting Uzis.

  She turned then, allowed herself the pleasure of watching him move. He was over six feet tall and had the fluid grace some men were born with—a presence that both intrigued and thrilled.

  And they were alone.

  Oh, dear God. It was catching up with her. Was she being naive to put her trust in Tanner Caldwell? It seemed a little fishy—awfully convenient that he’d shown up in town around the same time somebody attempted to nab her. She shouldn’t be here. Maybe the guests were still at the church. Maybe...

  “I’ve made a mistake,” she said wildly. “I should go back. Everybody’s counting on me. I’ve let them down—Randall, my family.” Words poured out without order. “My horses. There won’t be anyone to take care of them.”

  He was in front of her in an instant, his handsome features concerned, his fingertips gentle against her cheek.

  “Hey, it’ll be okay.”

  “How? Somebody wants to kidnap me, I’ve skipped out on my wedding—”

  “Not intentionally,” he reminded her.

  “That doesn’t matter. I gave my word. Everyone’s counting on me,” she repeated.

  Tanner frowned. Those weren’t the words of an excited bride. “Who’s counting on you, Blackie?”

  She shook her head and stepped away, turning back toward the wall of windows. His fingers curled into a fist. He shouldn’t crave the touch of this woman’s skin. Shouldn’t want to take her in his arms and soothe her worries.

  She belonged to another man. A wimp, to be sure, but that was beside the point.

  He saw her press her thumb and forefinger to her temple. The desire to touch her again won. He’d thought he had more sense than to beat his head against the wall. Evidently, he didn’t.

  He stepped behind her, put his hands on her tense shoulders. She jumped, then settled down.

  “Headache?” he asked softly.

  “A slight one.”

  “I bet you didn’t eat this morning.”

  A shudder worked through her body. She shook her head. “Wedding jitters.”

  “And a little bit of a hangover, party girl?”

  In the reflection of the
glass, he saw her gaze snap to his. He tried to keep the smirk from his lips and his voice, and continued to massage. “Surprised the hell out of me to see you at Gatlin’s last night.”

  “I like the place,” she said.

  “You’ve never been there before.” He knew a bluff when he heard it.

  “How...?” Her shoulders relaxed a little more.

  “Okay, so it was only my second time. But it’s a fun, down-to-earth place.”

  “Like a bachelorette party for one? I couldn’t help but notice you didn’t have any bridesmaids in tow.”

  She chuckled. “Heaven forbid.”

  “Not country club enough for your friends?”

  “That sounds really snooty, Tanner.”

  “Most of your friends are snooty.”

  She glanced over her shoulder at him. “You haven’t laid eyes on me in ten years. What would you know about my friends?”

  “Nothing much changes in Grazer’s Corners. Simple deduction.” He wasn’t going to admit he’d kept tabs on her over the years. “You hungry?”

  “Not really. It seems like my jitters have switched gears. I don’t think I could eat.”

  “Might help the headache.” He dropped his hands and stepped back, knowing he had no business touching her. It made him want to do more.

  “Is there even food in this house?”

  “The essentials. Beer, milk, cereal. Probably frozen stuff in the deep freeze.”

  “You’ve been staying here?”

  “For a couple of days.”

  “I’d never have known it from the way you fumbled with the keys.”

  “They all look alike.”

  “A dab of nail polish will take care of that.”

  “I’m fresh out of finger paint.”

  She smiled softly. “Do you come here often?”

  “Not often. It’s a little closer to Grazer’s Corners than I’d like.” He saw her eyes go all soft and concerned, remembered how she’d always been one to champion the underdog. By damn, he didn’t want her thinking of him in those terms.

  With his jaw tight, he strode into the kitchen. He knew the exact minute she followed him. Even though she hadn’t yet said a word, he felt her presence.

  “Speaking of Grazer’s Corners, you said you had a plan.”

  He nodded.

  “Well, don’t keep it to yourself. We’re alone now.”

  Yeah, and it was driving him crazy. “I’ve got a friend I can call. He’ll send somebody to town to snoop around, let us know what we’re dealing with.”

  “I feel like I should be doing that myself.”

  “Since you’re the target, that doesn’t seem like the wisest avenue.” He opened the double doors of the refrigerator. The carton of milk and six-pack of beer looked pitiful in the vast interior.

  “I could get a gun.”

  His head whipped around and he leveled her with a scowl that should have had her backing up. Hell, he could see his own eyebrows. “Would you use it?”

  Her breath hissed out. “No.”

  Some of his tension eased. “That’s one of the first things you learn about guns. Never threaten unless you’re positive you’ve got the guts to follow through. Otherwise the perp will take it away and use it on you.”

  “You sound as though you know what you’re talking about. Do you carry a gun?”

  He went back to inspecting the contents of the fridge. Nothing gourmet had materialized since the last time he’d checked. “I have a permit.”

  “Are you in law enforcement?”

  “Security.” Frozen bread and lunch meat. With the defrosting aid of the microwave, they’d have to make do. “I’ve done some bodyguarding.”

  “But you don’t anymore?”

  He placed their lunch selection on the counter, crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the tile.

  “Looks like I am now.” And it wasn’t tough to guard a body like Jordan’s.

  She caught him staring at her. Their gazes met, locked. He saw the nervous sweep of her tongue. She was a gutsy lady, but she was just a little scared of him. Perhaps that was an advantage. He didn’t have any business getting close.

  And he didn’t go in for scaring women. That was a sure way to have him keep his distance.

  Her chest rose as she drew in a breath. “So. You’ll call your friend to investigate. Then what?”

  “Then we sit tight and wait for news.”

  “But what about my wedding?”

  “Guess it’s postponed.” His shrug was flippant. The roiling in his gut was far from it. “Better the kidnapper you know...”

  Chapter Four

  Jordan grabbed the back of a chair and sat down before her knees gave out. The implications of that statement had her mind going off on another tangent.

  It was probably just the events of the day, she thought, staring at his broad back. The ponytail she’d fashioned was coming loose, several strands falling across his shoulders.

  She shouldn’t be creating lurid fantasies over felony offenses. This was serious. Scary. Somehow, though, she kept losing sight of her dilemma.

  Once she was fairly sure her voice wouldn’t tremble, she spoke.

  “It’s not as though you kidnapped me.”

  He shrugged, popped some bread into the microwave. “Looked that way to the town. Chances are, your old man recognized me. He’s never been one to give me the benefit of the doubt.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Not your problem.”

  But she took it on anyway. From habit. “Daddy can be judgmental. Deep down he’s not all bad.”

  “I admire your loyalty.”

  “There’s no need to be sarcastic.”

  He gave her a steady look. “I meant it as a compliment. Loyalty was always one of your nice qualities.”

  “Oh. Thank you.”

  “Now don’t go all tongue-tied on me again.”

  Her shoulders squared. “I’m not tongue-tied. I hadn’t expected compliments from you.”

  “Why? You should get plenty. All that black hair, those moss-green eyes...a body built for sin. Hell, baby, you’ve got a face guaranteed to stop male traffic. I imagine you walk down the street and guys forget to watch where they’re going—end up wrecking their shiny cars. Probably keeps the insurance agents in town busy.”

  She wasn’t sure whether to be insulted or pleased. “I can turn that around on you, Tanner. How do you like being labeled a beefcake pinup?”

  “You assigning that label to me?”

  Caught in her own trap. Never mind that he’d make a nun rethink her vows. Jordan was far from a nun. And staring at those masculine features, all that flowing hair, that tough body... Well, it was sending her brain into way too many flights of fancy.

  She glanced at the package of frozen lunch meat he held in his hand. “Do you want some help with that?”

  “You know how?”

  “Don’t be a smart aleck.”

  “It’s a legitimate question, duchess. Your family employs a cook.”

  “You must really think I’m a spoiled brat.” Duchess, Blackie, baby. Couldn’t the man just use her name?

  He turned and slid the meat into the microwave. “Sorry. Sometimes I’m not fit for polite company.”

  She opened her mouth to take issue. He held up a hand.

  “That wasn’t a dig at you. I really was speaking of myself.”

  She wondered what made the anger simmer so close to the surface, wondered what made him tick. Even in school he’d kept her at arm’s length. He’d been such a loner, and she’d felt sorry for him...and intrigued. But even when she’d tried to approach him, he’d fired off something shocking, usually a challenge. And for the life of her, she’d never been able to rise to the dare of his thrilling taunts.

  She’d only been able to dream. Alone in her bed, she’d thought about him. Grooming the horses, she’d imagined him helping her. Riding through the hills, she’d wished he’d been there to share
with her, to laugh with her.

  Dreams... She’d had plenty of them.

  Dreams that would have horrified her family.

  Tanner was right in that respect. Daddy would never have given him the benefit of the doubt, would never have considered him good enough to sit at their dinner table.

  Not that Tanner would have accepted such an invitation.

  He had more pride than any man she knew.

  He placed a ham sandwich in front of her. “Beer or ice water?”

  “Ice water.” She wouldn’t take a chance on alcohol muddling her thoughts. She was sluggish enough as it was. “I’ll get it.”

  “I’m up. Stay put.”

  This wasn’t going to work, she decided. Too many conflicting emotions were at war inside her. He made her feel like the duchess he’d called her. And contrary to what he thought, she wasn’t used to people waiting on her.

  She was used to doing things herself. That way, she knew they’d get done. Rarely did she leave anything to fate or chance.

  Which was why she should have been at the church getting married.

  Her marriage would guarantee the loan her family needed.

  Tanner sat down across from her and dug into his sandwich like a man who hadn’t eaten in a week. Jordan just picked at hers. Her stomach was jumpy and her mind was too busy.

  “You’re not eating.”

  She took a bite just to make him happy. “I keep thinking about all the catered food at the reception. I hope the guests won’t let it go to waste.”

  “Probably won’t. People come to weddings to eat.”

  “And to see a couple get married,” she inserted.

  He laid down his sandwich—what was left of it. “Any idea who those goons were? Did you recognize them?”

  “No. When they came in the side doors, I thought they were people from Randall’s side of the family. I figured they’d just gone in the wrong door.”

  “No.” He took a swig of beer. “It was deliberate.”

  She flashed on a thought, worried over it for a moment. “How was it that you happened to be there?” Obviously she was more stressed than she’d realized. She should have asked that question sooner.

  “A hunch.”

  “Why in the world would you have a hunch that somebody would try to kidnap me?”