Читать книгу Belonging to Bandera - Tina Leonard - Страница 10

Holly stared at Bandera, her eyes huge in her face. He liked that—he could tell she was torn between laughing at his comment and thinking he was teasing.

Or wondering if maybe he wasn’t teasing.

He could let her off the hook and tell her he was just trying to make her smile—better yet, laugh—but it was too satisfying to have her watching him.

There was something about her that he found highly intriguing. Was it her dumping her ex instead of causing a scene? Or maybe the fact that she’d made him wait, and when the fool hadn’t she’d refused to compromise her standards?

Bandera had to admit he liked a strong woman. He liked a lady with sass.

More than anything, he liked thinking she hadn’t loved her ex enough to fall for his game. Oh, he knew how men like that thought. A man’s game went something like this: “if you won’t, she will.”

Only Holly hadn’t.

To Bandera’s thinking, for any man who couldn’t conquer his woman, there was a better man who could—and that made her ripe for possession.

“Feeling better?” he asked Holly. He could see her fingers trembling as she stared at the map, and he knew she was nervous. Why?

Maybe he’d been teasing her too much. The Jefferson men were used to gnawing on each other’s flanks, with jests, with bad moods, with whatever. Even Helga, their housekeeper, had learned to fight fire with fire when the Jeffersons got on her nerves. In the beginning, when she’d first come to work for them, the eleven younger brothers hadn’t wanted her. Mason had. The other brothers had made her life pretty difficult, but she’d won them over in her wise way.

And sometimes she played a bit of dirty pool to make a point, which the Jeffersons had respected.

Mimi was a regular fire extinguisher of her own. The Jeffersons rarely messed with her; one, because she was generally leading the parade of mischief, pulling Mason in her wake; and two, Mimi knew very well the high-stakes art of revenge. Nobody got the best of her.

Bandera frowned.

“What?” Holly demanded, glancing up at him. Her eyes widened. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m not,” he said gruffly, and refocused his gaze on the road. Why had Mason confessed he’d once wanted to get married? Confessed to Holly, a stranger?

Bandera glanced again at the woman in question. She was biting her lip as she stared at the map, moving a finger up a road to chart its path. He really liked her full lips, and the way she was worrying her mouth was cute.

He’d like to take a bite of her.

He dragged his gaze back to the road once more, realizing instantly that this was no fight-fire-with-fire miss they had with them. Mason wouldn’t have been stirred to confession if he hadn’t sensed a fellow injured soul to confide in.

Holly might not have loved her ex like she should have—or she would have thrown a fit when Bandera had hung up on him; if anything, she’d looked relieved—but she was hurt by what had happened.

And that’s when he knew: This was a woman who wouldn’t look over her shoulder when a man hurt her. Hell, he ought to have figured that when she’d tossed her garter through the truck window. She was a great-escape type of girl. There was enough of that in the Jefferson family that he should have recognized the trait right off the bat.

And suddenly, he wanted to mend his ways. The urge to start over, to make her see he could do things right, was strong inside him. “Hey,” he said, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I shouldn’t have said what I did. Maybe I shouldn’t have hung up on your, uh, fiancé. It’s possible I should butt out of your business.”

“No,” she said slowly. “I’m grateful. I didn’t want to ever speak to him again.”

“Say the word if you have second thoughts, and this truck can get you right back to your family.”

“I’m good,” she said. “I’m really feeling better now that I’m on the open road.”

“It feels good to me, too,” Mike said from the back seat. “There are cards in here.”

“I feel like rummy,” Mason said.

“Hot damn.”

Bandera listened to the sound of shuffling behind him, wondering how he could say more without the peanut gallery witnessing it all. Before he could figure it out, Holly said, while studying the top of the map, “I want to go to Canada one day.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. And Alaska. I dream of fishing in Alaska.”

He couldn’t say he had dreamed of that, exactly. “Maybe you’ll get there some day.”

“We were going to honeymoon in Cancun.” She glanced up at him. “Do you know, I really didn’t want to go to Cancun. I wanted to go somewhere and hike, but Chuck said that wasn’t romantic. I guess it’s not, is it?”

Bandera shrugged, thinking he could probably get romantic anywhere with Holly, if she was in the mood.

He frowned. Sex seemed to be ruling his brain, ever since the moment he’d met Holly. He had the strangest conviction that this escape artist shouldn’t escape from him.

“Bike shop up ahead,” he said. “I think you’ll like this place, Mike.”

“Just when I had a hot hand.” Mike put the cards away. “Another time, Mason.”

“Sure.”

The four of them got out after Bandera parked the truck. Bandera helped Mike ease the Harley from the truck bed while Mason went to get the shop owner. Holly hung back, still staring at the map, so Bandera went over to join her.

“We’re going to get there, don’t worry,” he said. “I wasn’t serious about you having to read the map.”

“Good. Because I’m not exactly sure where you’re going. But it was nice of you to give us a ride here.”

Yeah. So nice of him to think about sex the whole time he’d had her in Mason’s truck. He looked at her pretty hair, the do she would have worn to be married, and the halter top, and the sparkly earrings, and something made him ask, “When will you come back this way?”

“I don’t know.” She folded the map, laying it on the seat. “Depends on where Mike’s going. What about you? When will you be back in Texas?”

Bandera shrugged. “Couple days. I think. It’s kind of hard to figure out Mason recently.”

“He’s so sad.” She looked over her shoulder to where Mason and Mike were checking out the Harley with the shop owner.

“Sad?” Bandera touched her fingers, wanting one feel of her skin before he never saw her again. “How can you tell?”

“How can you not?” She looked at him funny. “It’s like his soul is old.”

“Yeah.” Bandera nodded. “He’s always been that way.”

“Really?” She moved her fingers away from his ever so smoothly, but he still noticed her withdrawal. Ah, well, he knew he’d been pushing his luck. He just hadn’t been able to help himself. She was so unlike any woman he’d ever met. “I hope I didn’t offend you in any way,” he said. “I don’t always know how to treat a lady.”

“I thought you did fine,” she said softly. “You took my mind off the whole wretched matter, and somehow, I feel much better.” She looked at him. “I thought I was going to die of mortification, and now that I’ve met you, I’m pretty sure the best thing that could have happened did.”

He grinned. “I’m sure you’re right.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.” Let it be the magic question, he thought. Yes, you can have a ride in my truck, anywhere you want to go.

She took a deep breath. “Would you marry a girl who didn’t sleep with you before the wedding?”

He was dumbstruck. Was she proposing? No, she wasn’t. He shook his head to clear it.

“I didn’t think so,” she said. “Maybe I sabotaged my own wedding—”

“Wait,” he said hastily. “I haven’t answered yet. I was thinking.”

“You were shaking your head.”

“Yeah, but I always shake my head when I think,” he said. “I haven’t ever been asked that question. It requires thought, maybe even Confucius-style pondering. Deep thought on a mountain in China for years.”

“No, it doesn’t,” she said. “It’s either yes or no.”

He stared at her, his mouth drying out. No, his mind said, I could not wait until a wedding to have you, if you’d been my girl. I would have had you before the wedding, after the wedding and maybe during the wedding. I definitely would never have let you out of my sight.

But yes, his more intelligent side argued. If that’s what it took, I would wait.

He gulped. “This is one of those Gordian knot, only-the-Sphinx-knows kinds of questions. It has moral implications, and superhuman qualities involved.” Was that sweat he felt on his brow, warming under his hat? He sensed that his answer meant a lot to her; she was trying to figure out how much a man would sacrifice for love. She wanted to know if any man loved deeply enough to wait.

He thought he felt a seam split in his jeans underneath his zipper. “Truthfully,” he said, his voice tight, “I don’t think I can answer your question. I’m sorry.”

She nodded. “It’s all right.”

He’d failed. He had not sounded wise, intriguing or even honest. The answer was no. He could not wait. He wouldn’t sleep around on his woman, but he certainly would not sleep without her, either. And that was just the way it was. When he met the woman for him, he was going to satisfy her so much she never thought twice about whether loving him was the right thing to do.

Holly’s gaze wandered over his face. There was something between them, a flash of interest neither of them was sure about.

“Listen,” he said, “I’m going to be real honest with you.”

“Shoot, cowboy.”

“All right. I wouldn’t wait. Not one day, not one hour, not one second.”

Her eyes widened. Then she blinked with surprise.

“And neither would you if you were really in love.” He took a deep breath. “How do I know you weren’t really in love? Because you hit the back door the first opportunity you could. You didn’t even give him a chance to explain, not that he had a good answer. You just took to the road. Which tells me you weren’t ready for this.” He touched one light curl from the fancy wedding do. “That’s cool, but you ought to be honest with yourself so you don’t fall for the wrong guy again and have to use sex as a safeguard to keep your emotions where you want them.”

She looked down. “I’m a wedding planner,” she said. “Is it possible I just wanted a wedding of my own? The perfect dream? That’s what’s worrying me.” Her gaze rose to his. “I hate that thought. It’s so shallow. But I’m old enough to want some stability. A man of my own. Children. You know, I’ve lived other people’s dreams. Now I want to live mine.”

“Hey.” He held up his hands. “I’m right there with you. There’s been enough weddings in my family recently to last a lifetime. Wedding marches, flying rice and multiple ‘I do’s’ have left me feeling like I’m the last man standing in a sea of change. The best poetry in the world can’t stave off the feeling that I’m turning into the old man and the sea, with the tide turning against me. How weird is that?”

“So you feel left out?” she asked.

“Left behind. Don’t tell Mason, but he does, too. Man, he’s got this itch for our former next-door neighbor, Mimi, he ain’t ever gonna scratch. When we Jeffersons mess up, we mess up big time.”

“Why doesn’t he just fix it?”

Bandera chewed on the inside of his cheek, noting that her fingernails had a pretty polish on them, like half-moons of white. Her wrists were small and dainty. She had the hands of a woman who spun dreams for other people, he decided. “Some things are not meant to be fixed. And then sometimes they’re meant for another time. But you’re not the only one who uses the open road to navigate through your emotions.”

“Thanks.” She smiled at him. “For putting that so kindly.”

“Yeah. So. Looks like the Harley’s working.”

She turned around. “Hey, it is.” Sliding down from the truck seat, she accidentally slid right into arms he put up to catch her. They looked at each other for a moment, Bandera recording the feel of her as fast as he could. The smell of her, the temperature of her skin, the silk of it, her height and how very, very good she felt.

“Whoa, I’m sorry,” she said, stepping away. “I didn’t mean to—”

“I did,” he said, “and I’m not apologizing. And I’m not saying sorry for this, either.” He kissed her, his lips touching hers ever so gently, ever so briefly.

But long enough for him to know that this woman was supersweet.

He looked at her, reading shock in her expression. “Just as good as I thought,” he said.

She didn’t move. For an instant, he wondered if she was going to slap him. Tell him off. Call Mike to save her from his clutches.

But then she surprised him. Grabbing his shirt collar, she pulled his face back down to her level. She put her small, cool hands on both sides of his face, and she kissed him, using her body and her tongue and her lips to blow his mind.

When she released him, it was his turn to stare at her.

“Now I’ve kissed a cowboy,” she said.

And then she walked away.

He watched her, his eyes hooded, as she went to her cousin. Mason appeared beside Bandera. “Pony up,” he said. “The bike’s back in business, and we have done our Good Samaritan duty.”

Bandera stood silently, staring at the woman who’d just kissed him like he’d never been kissed before.

“Why have you got that dumbstruck expression on your face?” Mason demanded. “Indigestion? Solve the world’s greatest mystery?”

“No,” Bandera said. “That bride on the run is a woman just begging to be slowed down.”

“Nah,” Mason said. “She’s not your type. No polka dots.”

Bandera shook his head, his brain fairly ringing from all the signals he was receiving from Holly’s kiss. “She is a reversible pattern, I do believe. It’s just not obvious to the insensitive eye.”

“Oh, jeez.” Mason sighed, getting into the truck. “Can we stay on task here? We did have a mission, and it had nothing to do with your love life.”

“I don’t have a love life.” But maybe I should.

Probably not. If there was one thing he’d learned from watching his brothers fall, it was that a woman was the road to matrimony. Holly was a wedding planner. That was a no-brainer danger signal, right? How close could a man dance around a fire without getting burned?

It was best to stay away from flammable things, for certain, and Holly was too hot for a man whose heart was used to staying pretty cool. She was geared to have weddings on the brain, either hers or someone else’s. He patted his shirt pocket, which still contained the garter.

Walking around to the driver’s seat, he said, “All right. You be map reader.”

“Now you’re talking.” Mason relaxed, putting his seat belt on. “For a minute there, I thought you were doomed.”

“Bandera!” Holly called.

Mason’s eyes met his as Bandera hesitated in the midst of getting in the truck. “Act like you didn’t hear her, just to be on the safe side,” Mason said. “Maybe it’s best to get in, lock the door and drive away.”

“The shop’s got an extra bike,” Holly said, coming to stand next to him. “Mike wants to know if you want to rent a motorcycle and caravan to wherever you’re going. The owner’s in the mood to see the countryside with some buddies, and you’re the only easy riders who’ve been by today who know their Hogs.”

“A Hog for rent?” Mason perked up. “Really?”

“Mason,” Bandera said. “Stay on task.”

“Let me see this Hog he’s renting.” Mason got out of the truck, striding over to where Cousin Mike stood.

Bandera glared at Holly. “Mason has no business biking.”

“Are you afraid of motorcycles?” she asked. “Mike seemed to think you and Mason might enjoy traveling that way as a novelty.”

“I have plenty of novelty in my life, thank you,” he said. “You’ve now got my brother off his path, and the problem with that is that I only came along to keep him on track.” Holly just didn’t understand the dilemma. “See, Mason has a tendency to wander. He wanders off, and when he does, he may wander off for months.”

“Does he have an attention deficit disorder?”

“No, it’s just…” Bandera sighed. “Look. I’d feel better if I could keep Mason in my sights at all times. With any luck, I’ll have him home in two days, which will be a Mason record.”

The sound of motorcycles gunning made Bandera swivel around. Mason was on the back of the biggest, flashiest Hog Bandera had ever seen. Mike was slipping on a helmet, and the shop owner—who Bandera realized with some horror was a tall, thin, rangy-looking brunette with foxy eyes—loaded herself onto the back of Mason’s seat.

“Oh, no,” Bandera said. “This is not going to happen. This is bad. No. Wait!” he yelled over the engine noises. “Mason! Hell, no!” He went running toward them, but Mike, Mason and the brunette waved and roared off. “Damn it!” Bandera tossed his hat to the ground. “Damn it to hell!” The glare he sent Holly should have shriveled her, but she drew herself up to her full height and turned her back on him, arms crossed.

Uh-oh. Now she was mad, and being alone in the countryside with a hot, angry female was not a recipe for happiness. He took a few deep breaths. “This is your fault,” he said. “I’m sorry I lost my temper, but you shouldn’t have dangled bait like that in front of Mason’s face.”

“If you’d been paying more attention to the discussions and less to your map fear, you would have met the shop owner and seen how nice she was,” Holly said, annoyed. “Mike knows her. Apparently, she bought the business recently from the guy you knew.”

“I meant the bike,” he said crossly. “Mason and anything that gets him on an open road these days is dangerous. And that Hog was about the most alluring bait he’s seen in months.”

“Well, then he probably deserves it,” she said huffily. “Maybe he doesn’t like you being his ball and chain. I know I wouldn’t.”

Bandera stared at her. “Ball and chain?”

She turned around. “Frankly, your possessive attitude grates on my nerves.”

He blinked. “Possessive?”

“Yes. You should be happy for your brother.”

The brunette had been quite a looker. Very Cherlike, in her younger days. And she’d let Mason drive her Hog. He sighed. “Mimi isn’t going to like you,” he told Holly. “I’d watch that rhetoric around her.”

“Who’s Mimi?”

“The next-door neighbor. Well, used to be.”

“Well, she’s not here. And you gotta live life to the fullest, as I’ve learned only too well today.”

“I know that quote,” he said. “But I think there are varying definitions of what living life to the fullest means.”

“Mike has a cell phone,” she reminded him, “and we can follow them to wherever you were planning to go in the first place.”

“True.” Bandera began to feel better. “Yes. Nothing to worry about.”

Somewhere a door slammed loudly, making them both wheel around. He grabbed Holly and held her against him.

“Are you always nervous like this?” she whispered.

“Shh!” He’d thought the shop owner was the only person working in the place. She’d hung up a Closed sign in the window. He and Holly had seemed to be alone on miles of deserted country road. “I’m going to go make certain everything was locked up.”

“Okay.” She began walking and he pulled her back.

“No,” he said, “I’m going to check, and you’re going to stay here.”

“Bandera! I just canceled a wedding! I think I can check to make certain a door was closed properly.”

“I can’t allow you to get in trouble out here.”

She sighed. “Come on, cowboy. I never dreamed you’d be so needy, or I wouldn’t have kissed you.”

“More on that later,” he said. “Stay behind me.”

“Whatever.”

He walked to the door, which had an old screen covering. It looked as if the brunette lived in the front part of the house and ran her business from the garage. He took hold of the handle, giving it a good shake, and the door swung open.

He and Holly exchanged glances.

“Not a good sign,” he whispered. “I really did think this door slammed.”

“I did, too. Go on in.”

“No!” Bandera said. “It’s her house!”

“And she’d appreciate you making certain nobody walked inside!”

Holly had a point. “Will you stay out here?” he asked.

Her eyes got big. “What do you think?”

“I think hell no.”

She pushed him inside. Then she followed, glancing around. “Oh, it’s so pretty,” she murmured. “I love yellow-and-green gingham.”

It looked like rays of sunshine had been splashed throughout the den. Plants were everywhere, blooming lush and green. The sofa was overstuffed and the chairs were fat leather recliners. “She didn’t seem like the kind of girl who decorated comfortably.”

“She seemed fine. I don’t know why she’s bugging you so much.”

“Because she drove off hanging on to my brother’s backside. I’m telling you, that wasn’t in the plan.”

“Today is not the day for plans. I’m going to call my mother,” Holly said, crossing into the kitchen. “Look! She baked chocolate chip cookies.”

“You yak, I’ll eat.” He perched on a flower-painted bar stool and made himself at home with the yellow-gingham plate. “Mmm. Maybe better than wedding cake. You should have one.”

Holly rolled her eyes, but took one from him, being very careful to avoid his fingers, he noticed. Dialing the phone, she stood on the opposite side of the bar, instructing the operator to make a collect call.