Night Driving

“She’s my sister.”

“And a grown woman.”

“Are you saying I shouldn’t try to protect her?”

“I’m saying that I understand how overprotective big brothers can be and how they can ruin a woman’s love life when they stick their noses in where they don’t belong. Why do you think I moved to Montana?”

“I thought you came up here after a cowboy.”

“Yes, and my brothers hated him.”

“From the way things turned out, seems like your brothers had a point.”

Tara rolled her eyes. “Just because things didn’t work out between me and Chet doesn’t mean my brothers had the right to meddle in my business. The mistake was mine to make.”

“And yet, you’re running back home.”

Her eyes flashed sparks. He’d upset her. He was good at that. Quite an accomplishment, since she was usually so easygoing.

“Because my mother is ill.” She took a step toward him.

The smell of her—both sweet and sensual—tangled up in his nose. His body hardened instantly. He clenched his jaw to fight off the erection and prayed she would not look down.

“Is that the only reason?”

“I miss Florida. Nothing wrong with that.”

“And your brothers. You miss them, too.”

“I do,” she admitted.

“I’m just saying, they probably have your best interests at heart. More so than some cowboy named Chet.”

“I’ll get rid of my friends,” she said in a low voice that left him hungry and aroused.

His gaze hooked on her mouth. What beautiful, full lips, strawberry-pink and glistening with shiny gloss. “Thanks,” he managed.

She touched him lightly, the bare brushing of her fingertips over his forearm, but it was enough to ignite his desire. He suppressed a groan.

“We’ll be on the road within the hour.” Tara turned and went back into the house.

Leaving Boone wondering how he was going to survive the next few days alone in a car with this tantalizing bombshell he wanted absolutely no part of.

3

Tuesday, June 30, 11:50 p.m.

FOR THE PAST three hours, they’d been driving east down lonely Highway 90. The barren landscape made Tara happy that she wasn’t traveling this route alone. Montana was pretty, but in the dark, it stretched out long and lonesome.

Funny, she’d never noticed how empty the state was when she’d made the drive up from Florida fourteen months ago following Chet, more for fun and adventure than true love. Her friends raved about falling in love, finding that special someone, but Tara had never been that lucky. She’d liked lots of guys, sure, and had plenty of friends, but she’d never had that special connection with a guy.

Sometimes, she wondered if there was something wrong with her, some secret inability to experience love the way others did. Her mother told her it was simply because she just hadn’t met the right man yet. The guy who would make her happy to give up her independence and settle down.

Tara sneaked a glance over at Boone and her heart did this strange little tightening thing. She was grateful for Boone’s company, even though he was trying mighty hard to pretend he was asleep.

The plan he’d given her—the control freak—detailed driving to Billings tonight, catching a few hours of sleep in a truck-stop motel and then hitting the road again at dawn. He’d programmed all their stops into his GPS and given her an estimated time frame for how long each stop should take. He’d made no allowances for detours. He was methodical and prepared. It drove Tara bonkers. How in the world could you truly experience life if you never strayed from the beaten path? If all your time was carefully plotted, where did spontaneity come in?

Boone had the passenger seat pushed back as far as it would go and he wore a Minnesota Twins baseball cap pulled down over his face. His breathing was slow and steady, but he had his arms crossed over his chest. Her gaze drifted down to his right leg encased in the metal brace. He had to be hurting from the day’s efforts, but she hadn’t seen him take a pain pill. He’d even refused the beer she’d offered him at her impromptu goodbye party.

Leaving Bozeman was more difficult than she’d thought it was going to be and it was all because of the man sitting beside her. She was excited about seeing her family again and happy that she wouldn’t be spending another winter in Montana, but for all his gruffness, she was really going to miss Boone.

Her cell phone rang. Who was calling her this late at night? She couldn’t see the caller ID in the dark, so she just answered it through the hands-free device that broadcast the conversation throughout the car. She tried to whisper so as not to disturb Boone. “Hello?”

“Tara? I can’t hear you,” said her older sister, Kate.

“I’m here.” She raised her voice and cast a glance over at Boone to see if she was bothering him.

“Why are you calling so late? Is something wrong?”

“I’m at the hospital with Mom. She came through the surgery with flying colors and most likely she’ll be released tomorrow.”

Tara breathed out a sigh of relief. “That’s good. I regret that I couldn’t be there for the surgery.”

“It’s okay,” Kate said. “You’re coming home now.”

“I’m sorry this is all falling on your shoulders.”

“It’s not. Everyone is pitching in. Joe and Matt are staying at the house with Dad. Erin and Dave are flying in tomorrow.”

“I’m still several days away.”

“No worries. You’ll be home to help drive her to chemo treatments once she recovers from the surgery. Really, the doctors say she’s got an excellent chance for a complete recovery.”

“Still, it’s scary to think of losing her.”

“I know,” Kate said softly. “She’s really happy you’re moving back home for good. We’ve all missed you.”

Guilt nibbled at Tara. Her mother had been her biggest cheerleader, always urging her to follow her dreams and her heart, but she couldn’t help feeling selfish that in her wanderlust, she’d left her family behind. While she loved adventure, Tara was a traditionalist at heart. Family meant a lot to her. It was time she went home.

“I’ll call in the morning,” Tara said.

“You be careful on the drive. Don’t rush. We’ve got everything covered here.”

More guilt. “’Night, Kate.”

“Good night, Tara.”

She cut off the call and peeped over at Boone again. Had he heard her conversation? The guilt turned into another feeling she couldn’t quite identity, a cross between regret and wistfulness. He hadn’t moved a muscle.