Belonging to Bandera (3 page)

He scratched his head. “I never did figure that out exactly.”

“Oh?” Holly held the beer bottle between her hands, happy for the coldness to reduce the heat of
her own mortification. She focused on Mason’s story. “Wasn’t the right time?”

“I suppose not.”

She looked at Bandera. “What about you? You have a sad story, too?”

“Hell, no,” he said. “My stories are all happy and they’re going to stay that way.”

“Really?” She leaned forward, her arms over the back of the seat, and looked at him thoughtfully. “Did you learn that from Confucius, too? The secret to eternal happiness?”

“No. I learned it from my family. Happiness was a survival skill.”

She glanced at Mason, who sat unmoving, the beer bottle hovering near his lips as he took in Bandera’s words. “That stinks,” he said suddenly. “I never thought about it before, but you’re right. Happiness
was
a survival skill, and I believe we all stunk at it.”

“Oh, come on, we were happy,” Bandera protested.

“We were something, but it wasn’t happy.”

“We were happy! Last was always telling us how good it used to be.”

Mason merely shook his head and glanced out the other window. Holly caught Bandera’s gaze on her and sent him a sympathetic look. Maybe their youth hadn’t been as happy as they were pretending? “Thank you for picking us up,” she told him.

“It was nothing. We had nowhere pressing to be.”

“Although we’d like to get there eventually,” Mason said with a growl. “You just reminded me why I travel light, without family.”

Holly’s brow puckered. “So we
are
getting you off track?”

“No,” Mason said with a sigh. “Our tracks are never quite straight.”

“That’s right. Everybody out. Holly’s going to sit up here by me, so that she can read the map for me.”

“I’m not a very good map reader,” she said quickly, “I’m afraid I’d get you even more behind than you are.”

“Yes, but that’s Mason time you’re worried about,” Bandera said. “My time is slow and easy.”

She blinked, caught by his words and the drawl. Without consciously wanting to, she thought about sex. Slow and easy sex. Lots of it. With Bandera.

Whew. Not ten minutes after her ex had bawled her out for making him wait until the wedding.

Something was wrong with her. She definitely had rebound fever.

“I cannot read your map,” she said decisively.
You represent the lure of the unattainable, and I am in a weakened state.

Mike hopped out, taking his beer with him. “Out,” he said to Holly. “Go read the man’s map.”

“Now, look,” she protested. “I don’t know that I
like traveling with three men who are developing caveman instincts!” Sitting next to Bandera was going to get her nothing but trouble. She had a funny feeling he had cracked her code: sensitive, brokenhearted female needs a little male attention, some savvy sweet talk, a little cowboy chivalry and, shazam! She’s saved from a tragically unhappy ending!

“We’re not cavemen,” Mason said. “We’re trying to treat you like the lady you are.”

She hesitated. Mike shrugged. “I like them,” he said to her. “Better than Chuck.”

“We don’t know them,” she said. “And they’re men.”

“Ahh,” the three men chorused.

“What?” Holly demanded.

“Man issues,” Bandera said. “Even before the big breakup, you had man issues.”

“You’re a freak,” she said, “and I’m going to read your map for you, just so you can have plenty of time to think over your own issues once I get us all good and lost.”

“Drop me off at the bike shop before you lead us the wrong way,” Cousin Mike said. “I fancy a card game with some fellow bikers.”

She sighed and crawled into the front seat. “I have now entered the danger zone,” she said, her tone a trifle mocking.

“You have no idea,” Bandera declared with a grin.

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?