by Tina Leonard
“In the kitchen?” Mason asked.
Holly shrugged. “They’d moved to the bedroom and didn’t hear me come into the house. There was a red bra lying in the fruit bowl and a trail of clothes leading into the den.” She sighed and blinked her eyes quickly, which made her look like a doll. A doll trying not to cry.
“I think the condom box was the right place to leave your engagement ring,” Bandera said, trying to be sympathetic. He really did not want her to cry. She was too pretty to be sad, he thought. I would make her smile all the time.
Mason groaned.
“So about that kiss…” Bandera began, unable to resist.
“Mike should have been here by now,” Holly said. Her gaze sought the long, empty road behind the truck. A stray curl fell from her pretty upsweep and brushed along the back of her neck. Bandera watched her lips bow as she worried. What man would be stupid enough to cheat on a mouth that could pucker into a perfect plump bud?
“Guess we should be going, since she doesn’t need a ride,” Mason said uncomfortably.
“Not so fast.” Bandera looked at Holly again. “Haste makes waste, you know.”
“Who said that?” Mason demanded, his tone low.
“Some wise man.” Bandera took a deep breath and turned to Holly. “Ride with us.”
She peered into the truck to see him better. “With you?”
He shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”
“Why not indeed?” Mason said dryly. “We have nothing pressing.”
“What about my cousin?” she asked.
At that moment a motorcycle pulled up behind Mason’s truck. A loud gunning noise punctuated the arrival before the driver shut the engine off. A large, ponytailed man got off the bike and walked toward them.
“Cousin Mike?” Holly said.
“Yeah. Hey, Henshaw.”
They embraced briefly before Mike looked at Bandera and Mason. “They bothering you?”
“No,” Holly said hastily. “They thought I needed help.”
He shook his head. “Your mother’s going to be worried.”
“My mother will understand,” she said. “She wouldn’t want me marrying a man with the morals of a…bull.”
“Well, time for us to hit the road, Mason,” Bandera said. He figured they should. She might be cute, but she had issues. “Too bad about the kiss, though.”
“What kiss?” Cousin Mike demanded, bristling.
Though Bandera thought many men would probably want to kiss this beauty, he said, “No kiss here.”
“I was feeling the desire to rebound,” Little Miss Adventure said. “Love the one you’re with and all that.”
Bandera blinked, appreciating her recitation. She looked like a Holly. She looked like a rosebud. Gosh, he was certain she could be a Gertie May and he’d still find her ravishing. “You probably get kissed all the time.”
“I’ve never been kissed by a cowboy,” Holly said.
Mason’s brows rose as he looked from his brother to Holly. “Bandera, I’m going to let you drive. I need a nap.”
“He’s not the kissing type,” Bandera explained.
“No, I’m not,” Mason said, getting out of the driver’s seat and into the back of the double cab.
When Bandera stepped out of the truck Holly’s gaze roamed over his face. He smelled perfume and noticed she was dainty compared to him—a tiny bundle of femininity.
“I’d best go with Mike,” she said, looking up at him with what he thought was awe. For the first time in his life, he realized he liked being tall. Sweeping her up into his arms would be no problem. Making love to her would be—
“My mother would be upset if I rode off with two strange men,” Holly said.
His fantasy shot, Bandera eased behind the steering wheel and closed the door. He wanted to say that he thought he and Mason had less strangeness about them than Cousin Mike, but he figured that might not be suave. “We’ll be off, then.”
“Thanks for the offer, though. ’Bye, cowboy.”
Bandera nodded, tipping his hat. “Best of luck to you.” Putting the truck in Drive, he pulled away.
“Thought you were going to do it there for a minute,” Mason said.
Bandera watched the rearview mirror. Holly was getting on the back of the giant motorcycle and putting a helmet on. Even from this distance, it was easy to admire her nice long legs.
“I never kiss women who practice seduction on the rebound,” he said.
“Not when they have a Cousin Mike attached to them, anyway,” Mason said. “That seemed like a high-risk scenario.”
“Wonder why her fiancé was such a dope? Why do girls always hook up with losers?”
Mason grunted. “I think any comment at this point should be a sonnet from Wordsworth, but I can’t think of one.”
“Maybe Shakespearean tragedy.” The motorcycle was coming up behind them, traveling at a good clip. It passed them, and Holly waved, one long blond curl flying out from underneath the helmet. “I hate tragedies.”
“A runaway bride is a tragedy.”
“A runaway anything is a tragedy. Trains, horses, brothers. All four-hanky events.” Bandera stepped on the gas, and was soon gaining on the motorcycle once more. Watching it carefully, he passed, wondering why it was slowing. Holly waved at him, then raised her fingers and shot something through his open window.
He snatched it from his lap. All white. No black polka dots. His gaze flew back to the road, and to her, as she rode off up the highway once more.
Mason sat up to stare over the seat at the lacy white missile. “It’s that thing the groom is supposed to throw to his groomsmen,” he said, shocked. “Whoever catches it is next to get married, so the legend goes. I’ve known grown men who wouldn’t be in the same room with a garter.”
Bandera met his brother’s wide gaze in the mirror, his heart thundering harder than it ever had in his life. The satin felt slippery and unusual between his rough fingers.
“You caught it,” Mason said. “Hope you’re ready.”
Chapter Two
Bandera hastily dropped the garter into his shirt pocket. “I don’t believe in superstitions.”
“Maybe you should,” Mason said. “What about the Jefferson family superstition? The Curse of the Broken Body Parts? If something hurts, you’re in love? You could be in for some pain. Be forewarned.”
Bandera grunted. “Nothing of yours hurts, and you’re in love.”
Mason sat back, silent. Bandera rolled his eyes. He couldn’t concentrate on Mason and his problems with Mimi when the garter lay in his pocket. He didn’t dare remove it and stare at it in front of Mason. That garter had been on Miss Holly’s leg at one point, and he dearly wanted to take a closer look at any article of clothing that had adorned her. It was just curiosity, he told himself, but he wouldn’t be a man if he didn’t have a healthy dose of male interest revving his motor.
“Why do you think she threw it at me?” he wondered.
“Either she no longer wanted it, and thought you might like a souvenir of meeting her, or she was extending an invitation.”
“To?”
“To follow her. Luckily, we don’t fall for female wiles in our clan.”
“Spoken too soon,” Bandera murmured. “Looks like we have Harley trouble up ahead.”
Mason stretched up to look. “I’m not one bit surprised. That garter is bad luck, and you’d be wise to hearken its warning unless you want a trip to the altar.”
“That kind of trip I don’t want,” Bandera said, stopping the truck alongside the motorcycle. His heart beat with pleasure at the sight of Holly. He really hadn’t figured he’d ever see her again. “And I don’t believe in bad luck charms.” Switching the engine off, he got out of the truck. “Need a hand?” he asked Cousin Mike, his eyes on Holly.
Mike bristled. “Not yours.”
“Lovely,” Bandera said. “We’ve met once and he likes me.”
Holly shook her head. “He’s generally perso
nality-impaired. We love him anyway.”
“Probably because you don’t see each other often. But I’ll try to remember his dysfunction.” He stared at the motorcycle. “Nice machine.”
“It’s my baby,” Mike said mournfully. “But moody, I’ll admit.”
Bandera shook his head. “Load it into the back of the truck. We’ll give you a lift to the nearest town with a bike shop.”
Mike scratched his neck. “I guess I’ll have to take you up on that.”
“Oh, good,” Holly said. “This will be fun.”
Bandera wondered. Mason wasn’t inclined to be anything but superstitious, Mike was mourning his bike, Holly wanted to be kissed by a cowboy, and Bandera figured there had to be very little chance of that happening.
But he was going to keep a close eye on her. He did not like pain, especially where a woman was involved.
Holly went to the truck and slid in the back of the double cab next to Mason, before Bandera could help Mike get the Harley loaded. Mason looked petrified, and Bandera wondered if it would be too obvious if he asked his brother to drive so he could sit in back with Holly.
Yeah. Too obvious.
Sighing, he got in the truck. “Off we go,” he said. “Fun, fun, fun.”
HOLLY TRIED HARD not to watch as Bandera drove. Her gaze kept going to the rearview mirror, where she could see his eyes shaded by his hat. They were dark and mysterious, which she found appealing.
Her ex of a few hours had been blond and much thinner than Bandera Jefferson. Bandera was a very big, broad-shouldered man. Strength radiated from him, even from the sun lines around his eyes. She liked his squarish jaw and the way he looked at her like she was some curvy siren.
She could see her garter peeking out of the pocket of his denim western shirt. Why she had thrown it, she really couldn’t say. Until today, impulsive gestures weren’t her thing.
The garter had been stuck in her purse hastily as she’d grabbed things and left the church.
She’d only had time to scribble a short note for her mother and father, telling them that she was sorry and that she loved them. After guilt had hit her—she was leaving them to clean up the mess—she’d known in the next instant her mother would applaud her, her sister would be proud, and Daddy, well, Dad might just decide to put some sense into her ex.
She’d not written the real reason she was leaving. Her ex really wasn’t up to Henshaw family wrath.
Some wedding planner I turned out to be, she thought.
But no, the wedding would have been beautiful. Everything had been just right.
It was groom-picking she obviously needed help with.
Silence descended over the truck as the four occupants wondered what to say to each other. Bandera’s gaze met hers, and they both gazed quickly in opposite directions.
She glanced at Mason. His eyes were closed, but his jaw was tense. Then she looked at Bandera and found him watching her in the mirror again.
“Guess we interrupted your plans,” she said.
“Somewhat. We didn’t have a set schedule.”
“I did.” She looked at her French manicured nails. “But I’m changing course.”
“Sounds like the best thing to do right now. How come you weren’t at the wedding?” he asked Mike.
“I was headed there when I got the call that it was called off. Actually, I got about ten calls.”
“How?” Holly asked, surprised. “I didn’t tell anyone but you that I was leaving.”
“Your mother called my mother, who called me. Then your mother called me. Then your father. Then your ex-fiancé called me.”
“He did? They did? Why didn’t you tell me all this?” She noticed Bandera was listening with rapt attention, though trying to appear that he wasn’t.
“Because you surprised me when I picked you up and you were with these guys. I thought you might have gotten yourself into trouble.”
“I never get myself into trouble,” she said sternly. “And if I did, I’d know how to get myself out just fine. All I needed was a ride.”
“Anyway,” Mike said, “they called me after I was already on my way here to get you. Do you want to use my cell phone to call them?”
“I’ll call Mom and Dad later.” Chuck she was never going to call again.
“And Johnny?” Mike asked.
“His name was Chuck. What’s to talk about?” she demanded. “I think some things don’t require words.”
“I agree,” Bandera said, his tone way too cheerful. “Red bras in fruit bowls generally illuminate a situation better than linguistic artifice.”
“Ah,” Holly said.
“As does a ring left on top of a condom box.”
Cousin Mike cleared his throat.
Holly looked at Bandera.
“I’m sorry,” he said, as if only she could hear. “A lady like you deserves more considerate treatment.”
Her heart seemed to curl up and die with mortification, yet she appreciated Bandera’s efforts to comfort her. “It’s all right,” she said.
“No, it’s not. Did you know that the cognitive area of the brain, the part that helps make appropriate decisions, is the last to develop? It may not happen in some brains until twenty-four to twenty-six years of age.”
She blinked. “Are you making excuses for my ex? Are you saying his cognitive functioning was impaired?”
She thought she saw color rise up Bandera’s neck.
“No,” he said, “I’m saying you’ll be older the next time you choose a man, and you’ll know exactly what you want. This was obviously not the right man. And yes, he must have been cognitively impaired, not to mention character-stunted, to make a bad decision like that. I’m sure you couldn’t see any of that, however. I bet he sold himself to you as a regular prince.”
“He did,” she said sadly. “But he was no prince at all.”
“Precisely,” Bandera agreed cheerfully. “Now, the difference between you and me is that you agreed to be married. I wouldn’t dream of such a thing. My cognitive functioning will always be too impaired for me to select a wife.”
“Peachy,” Holly said. “And you’re not too proud to admit it.”
“No, I’m not. Did you know Confucius said that a gentleman has neither anxiety nor fear? I have both,” he boasted. “When it comes to the idea of matrimony, I am both anxious and fearful. I admire that you were even willing to consider it.”
“Do you study Confucius often?” Holly asked.
“I like quotes. They give me a point of reference in my life.”
She looked at him thoughtfully. “Are you super-intelligent, or just full of hot air?”
“Hot air,” Cousin Mike and Mason said in unison.
She leaned back and stared out the window. He probably was full of hot air. More than Chuck, even.
But Bandera did make her feel better, she admitted. It was the way he kept watching her—until she’d catch him, then he’d look away quickly—that told her he found her attractive. For a woman who’d found a bra thrown atop the bananas in her kitchen, it was some comfort that the cowboy seemed interested.
Of course, he probably sold every woman the wheelbarrow full of horse manure he was pushing. “Where are we going?”
“If I remember, there’s a bike shop up in Sweet-briar, just thirty minutes from here. If not, Charley will know where we can take your Hog,” he said to Mike.
“Thank you,” Holly said. “For going out of your way.”
“My pleasure,” Bandera replied, his voice deep and sincere. Holly glanced back to the mirror, finding his gaze on her once again, and this time she didn’t turn away. After a heartbeat passed, she quickly broke eye contact and went back to staring at the countryside, unable to acknowledge—or reply to—the masculine promise in his voice.
The very thought of his pleasure made her skin tingle. Made her glow inside.
She had to be crazy. She had to be suffering from canceled-wedding fever to even be looking at another m
an. She should be crying; she should be devastated.
Bandera handed her a tissue over the seat, which she took, but Holly knew she wasn’t going to need it.
“How’s your adventure so far?” he asked.
She met his gaze. “Getting better all the time.”
A cell phone rang, and Mike answered it gruffly before handing it over the seat to her. “Want to talk to the groom? Last chance before we cross the county line.”
She took the phone reluctantly, aware that Bandera was watching her every move, his eyes dark and hooded.
He wasn’t even going to pretend not to be listening. Maybe he was more rat than gentleman, she decided. “Hi,” she said, her tone not happy nor encouraging.
“Where are you?” Chuck demanded. “We’re all in the church waiting on you!”
“Who is waiting?” She frowned, knowing that her side of the family all knew there was to be no wedding. Surely his family knew, too. How much room for misunderstanding was there in leaving your engagement ring behind?
“My whole family and all my friends!” Chuck said, his voice rising in anger. “My side of the church is full, your side is empty. There’s not one single soul there, and I’m beginning to think that’s very suspicious, considering we sent out two hundred and fifty invitations!”
She realized Mason could hear her ex’s terrified voice when he pulled his hat down low over his eyes. There was only a foot of space between them, and he was obviously uncomfortable. “There’s not going to be a wedding,” she said, “at least not where I’m the bride and you’re the groom.”
“What in the hell are you talking about?” Chuck demanded. “Everyone is here! Waiting on you!”
“The minister?”
“Well, no. I’m sure he’s around somewhere, though.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. “Did you find the ring?”
“What ring?”
“The engagement ring you gave me. When you asked me to marry you and before you slept with my best friend.”
