The Wedding Bargain

His clothes felt damp, they were cheap, free prison issue, no name brands. His mouth twisted, recalling a time when that had actually mattered to him. Shrugging the thought aside, he skirted the occupied tables and found a seat at the chrome-edged counter. He sat on a hard stool, aware of a certain weariness that had nothing to do with time and circumstances.

His last ride had dropped him off at the diner. After a short break he’d be on the road again, hitching a ride with one of the truck drivers going his way. He was going home, surely a time for rejoicing. But no one was cheering, least of all him.

A middle-aged waitress was flipping burgers; onions sizzled on the grill. She looked dead on her feet; nevertheless, she spared him a smile. “What’ll it be?”

Drew stared back blankly. It had been so long since anyone had offered him a choice.

Choices.

He’d made so many wrong ones. They’d brought him to this place…this moment in time. The fluorescent lights were dim with several bulbs burned out. The day’s menu—meat loaf, mashed potatoes and green beans, along with the usual fare of burgers and deli-type selections—was posted on a chalkboard. The diner was definitely not a four-star establishment. He’d hit rock bottom.

The waitress was waiting for his order.

“Just coffee—black.” He raised his voice above the music blaring out of the jukebox. He didn’t recognize the tune, but it was pure country.

“You want anything to go with that?”

“That’s it,” Drew replied, with his thin wallet in mind. He barely had enough money to last a couple more days. His empty stomach groaned in protest. His gaze drifted hungrily to the pie sitting under glass. The crust was thin, the filling thick, purple-blue.

The waitress followed his glance. “We’re closing soon. The last piece is half-price.” Her kindness surprised Drew.

Swallowing his pride, he murmured, “Thanks.”

Moments later he bit into the generous wedge of pie. Yes, the blueberries were just as wild and sweet as he remembered, like forbidden fruit, some of northern Maine’s finest, no doubt. The coffee was strong, just the way he liked it—not that he would have complained.

He’d learned to accept small inconveniences, small indignities, even the big ones, to be honest. And he was nothing if not honest—a hard-won lesson. With everything stripped away, he’d taken a hard look at himself and didn’t like what he’d seen—a careless playboy, a user. His father had always said his second son would come to a bad end; and Drew had proved him right.

He polished off the last bite of pie.

In the corner, a television set was tuned to a football game. A few men had gathered around. Drew glanced at it idly. Someone turned up the volume a notch or two, competing with the jukebox and the sounds of laughter and conversation.

When the noise abruptly leveled off, Drew was slow to react. Lifting his cup to his mouth, he didn’t turn to gape at the new arrival as the other men did; nevertheless, he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the woman’s reflection in the mirror behind the counter. Through a smoke-filled haze, he got an eyeful.

He’d heard the saying “Good things come in small packages.” Small and slender in a black leather jacket, with tight black jeans tucked into leather boots, she was dynamite.

For a brief charged minute, their gazes connected in the mirror. Something warm kindled in her eyes before she glanced away. With a stifled inner groan, Drew tried to deny his gut reaction. How long had it been since he’d been within touching distance of a beautiful sexy woman?

Too long.

When she drew off a cap to reveal a glorious tangle of pale golden hair, a man sitting near Drew was lighting a cigarette. The match flared, then burned down while she shook the moisture from her head, then walked slowly forward—every move as graceful as a small sinewy cat.

“Ouch!” The match burned the man’s fingers.

With a wry smile, Drew knew exactly how the man felt. She was hot. Once, he would have tried to pick her up. Now, he buried the impulse and nursed his coffee. He’d sown his wild oats, and then some. From now on, he intended to be the soul of discretion and stay out of trouble.

And she looked like his definition of trouble!

Apart from that, she looked youthful, a little unsure. Drew hoped she knew how to handle herself with this crowd because he had no intention of coming to her rescue. The tension in the room was palpable. And all because of a little piece of fluff.

She looked fragile, yet ripe.

With a frown, Drew silenced the thought.

The lights dimmed slightly.

The waitress called, “Closing in ten.”

Olivia DeAngelis heard the announcement.

Just her luck, she thought. With a sinking feeling, she took in the scene. The diner was closing. And here she was, stranded, somewhere south of Presque Isle.

She had planned to stay overnight in Bangor. But disheartened after seeing her lawyer and receiving his less-than-encouraging summary of her finances—and what she could do about it—she’d changed her mind and decided to head home despite the bad driving weather.

Now, to make matters worse, she’d stumbled into a diner filled with hard-core bikers and truckers. There wasn’t a respectable-looking man in sight, she decided, automatically rating each man according to his general appearance.

When she found her gaze tangling a second time with a pair of brooding dark eyes reflected in the mirror behind the counter, she wondered—had she sunk low enough to consider a stranger met in a seedy diner? She flushed at the thought and watched his eyes narrow. Had he read her mind?

Hastily she looked away.

At the moment, she had more pressing concerns than finding a husband to satisfy her lawyer. How to get home topped her list.

While she hesitated, one man broke from a group around the television. “Hey, doll, need some company?”

Trying to appear casual, she smiled. “No, thanks, I’m meeting someone.” She wasn’t, but he didn’t have to know that.

“Don’t rush off.”

Olivia felt a big beefy hand on her arm. “Excuse me,” she said, dismissing him more firmly.

The man chuckled through his thick pepper-gray beard, but he didn’t loosen his hold. “Forget your date. How about a drink?”

Olivia looked around for an escape. Her gaze fell again on the lone man at the far end of the counter. While all the other men were watching with avid attention, he was ignoring her—which made him appear safe.

“There’s my date.” She disguised her clamoring nerves with a light laugh. Forcing herself not to run, she crossed the room.

“Hey,” the man called after her. “Not so fast.”

Olivia didn’t slow down. Taking a deep breath, she slid onto the empty stool beside the stranger, then leaned toward him.

“Please, pretend you know me,” she whispered, momentarily shaken by the shuttered cynicism in his dark-brown eyes when he turned to look at her. “Just for a couple of minutes.”

Meeting her plea with an unwelcoming frown, he released a harsh sigh with the words, “I don’t want any trouble.”

“Neither do I.” She met his dark gaze.

He shook his head. “Look, I’m no knight in shining armor. Why don’t you find someone else?”

She looked around. “Who do you recommend?”