He hesitated before engulfing it with his. They didn’t actually shake, but stood for an abnormally long time, seemingly holding hands. Under his brim, his face flashed a complicated set of emotions.
Her simple thanks seemed weak. The man had gone out of his way to help her. He drove a beat-up pickup truck and wore ragged jeans. Her father’s answer to everything was to offer money. She should write him a check for his trouble. Instead, with nerves kicking in, she said, “If you didn’t have anything else going on … you could stop by Adaline’s later and I’d … buy you a drink for helping me out of a tough spot. If you wanted.”
Lilliana’s head swiveled back and forth between them like she was watching a tennis match. Her face was blank. What if he and Lilliana were an item? Would the woman think Jessica was poaching? She wasn’t poaching. She didn’t want to poach this man. Did she?
“I’ll most definitely be there, Ms. Montgomery.” He squeezed her hand before letting go, touched the brim of his hat with a forefinger, and retreated. Jessica stayed planted until the clomp of his boots faded into the rumble of his truck, her hand still slightly outstretched.
“Excuse me while I cut through the sexual tension to the door. I’m sure you’d like to clean up for tonight.” Lilliana’s voice vibrated, plucked by some strong emotion. Hurt? Anger? Sadness?
Jessica’s tongue worked clumsily. “Nothing happened, I mean, nothing is going on. It’s not what you think. We met a couple of hours ago. If you and he—”
“Dang, slow down, homegirl.” Lilliana’s trembling voice broke into laughter. “Logan and I are not together, if that’s what you’re worried about. Honestly, I’m pretty sure he still has cooties. But, hey, if that doesn’t bother you …” She shrugged.
Logan. The name razored away the crazy attraction, leaving a blistering wound that oozed humiliation. “That was Logan Wilde? Mountain Man is Logan Wilde?”
Lilliana giggled. “You called him Mountain Man?”
Jessica chuffed. “In my head.”
The humor melted out of Lilliana’s face. “You seriously didn’t know his name?”
Jessica grabbed one of the posters of the bed, staring down at the green-and-blue swirls while she systematically reviewed their encounter. “No. Neither of us introduced ourselves, actually.”
Which meant he’d only known her name when she introduced herself to Lilliana. That’s when everything about him had tensed and darkened. Of course he’d be at Adaline’s tonight. Not because he wanted to have a drink with her, but because he freaking owned the place. She dug her fingernails into the old, soft wood.
“How do you know his name but not him?” Lilliana asked.
“I’m here to offer him a job.” She sank onto the edge of the soft mattress.
“But he has a job.”
“A better job. Or at least one that pays better,” she said vaguely.
Part of Jessica wanted to crawl under the covers and forget about her task, at least for the night. But the cutthroat part trained by her father wondered if she could somehow spin this to her advantage.
The one thing she couldn’t do was barge into Adaline’s and unleash. Calm, professional, in control. The mantra she’d gained from years of therapy scrolled through her head. Her chest loosened, her lungs expanded, the deep breaths inducing an almost meditative state. She would show no anger or exasperation in front of Logan Wilde. He would get the Jessica Montgomery who was icy and tough.
The beep of a vehicle backing up cut through the silence.
Lilliana said, “That’d be Jeb. Why don’t you shower and get yourself together while I handle your car.”
Jessica wanted to smile and thank her, but she couldn’t. Not now. Later, maybe. Right now, she had to concentrate on burying the urge to punch Logan Wilde right on his knee-weakening, sexy grin.
An award-winning author, Laura Trentham was born and raised in a small town in Tennessee. Although she loved English and reading in high school, she was convinced an English degree equated to starvation. She chose the next most logical major—Chemical Engineering—and worked in a hard hat and steel-toed boots for several years.
Now she lives in South Carolina with her husband, two children, and a menagerie of animals. In between school and homework and soccer practices, she loves to get lost in another world, whether it’s Regency England or small-town Alabama.
Visit her at www.LauraTrentham.com or connect on Twitter at @LauraTrentham or on Facebook or sign up for email updates here.
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Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Epilogue
Preview: Caught Up in the Touch
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
About the Author
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
SLOW AND STEADY RUSH. Copyright © 2015 by Laura Trentham.
Excerpt from Caught Up in the Touch copyright © 2015 by Laura Trentham.
All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.stmartins.com
Cover design by Crystal Ben
Cover photograph © solominvictor / shutterstock.com
Author photo © Steven Huskins
eISBN: 978-1-4668-8394-9
First eBook Edition: March 2015
eBooks may be purchased for business or promotional use. For information on bulk purchases, please contact Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department by writing to [email protected].
Slow and Steady Rush Page 29
