Belonging to Bandera

“What are you talking about?”

“I like my women on the rowdy side,” Bandera said. “Not too sweet, not too sour. Not too good and not too bad. Like a white frilly dress with a polka-dotted thong underneath—hey, look at that!”

Bandera craned his head to see the woman on the side of the road waving a large sign. She was wearing blue-jean shorts and a white halter top. If he didn’t know better, he’d think the halter had polka dots on it, big ones. “Probably a car wash,” he murmured. “Slow down, Mason.”

“No,” Mason said. “There’s no time. This is going to be a fast trip. It’s an information-seeking venture, not a woman hunt. Nor do I need a car wash.”

They whizzed past so fast Bandera could barely read her sign. The blonde flashed it at him, holding it up high so that he got a dizzying look at her jiggling breasts. White teeth, laughing blue eyes and legs so cute he was sure the fanny she was packing had to be just as sweet. “Stop, Mason!”

His brother stomped on the brake, sighing. “Why couldn’t you have stayed home?”

“That woman’s sign says she needs assistance,” Bandera said righteously, although he really thought it had read I’m Holly.

“And Lord only knows we never leave a lady without assistance.” Mason glanced into the rearview mirror. “I sense trouble in a big way.”

The lady bounced up to Mason’s door. “Hi,” she said.

“Howdy,” Mason and Bandera said together. “Can we help you, miss?” Bandera asked.

“I’m waiting for my cousin,” she said. “Obviously, you are not him.”

Mason was silent. Bandera took off his hat. “Did your car break down, miss?”

“No.” She smiled, and dimples as cute as baby lima beans appeared in her cheeks. Bandera felt his heart go boom!

“My cousin is coming to pick me up,” she said. “That’s why my sign says I’m Holly.”

“I’m confused,” Mason said to Bandera. “Nowhere on her bright white placard do I see the word assistance. Or even help!” He sent his brother a disgusted grimace.

“My cousin and I haven’t seen each other in a while,” Holly said. “He might not recognize me.”

Bandera stared at her high-piled blond hair with fascination. It had pretty twinkly jewels among the strands, which matched the iridescent sequins scattered on the white halter top.

“Okay,” Mason said. “You’ll have to pardon us. We need to be getting along. Normally, we don’t stop for ladies holding signs, but we thought you needed help.”

“Actually, I do,” she said. “I could use a kiss.”

Bandera’s jaw dropped. “A kiss?”

“Sure. I’d like just one kiss from a cowboy before I leave Texas.” Her blue eyes laughed at him. Mason was far closer to her than he was, and that was a durn shame if she was wanting kissing.

“Why?” he asked.

“I’m feeling dangerous,” she explained, “since I just left my wedding after I caught my fiancé in bed with my best friend.”

“Ouch,” Mason said.

“Precisely. So I called my cousin from the church phone, and this is our meeting place. But now that you’re here, I’m thinking a girl ought to be kissed on her wedding day,” she said, looking at Bandera.

Bandera’s heart gave a funny ding inside him. She sure did have kissing on the brain.

“So you’re a bride on the run,” Mason said. “Haven’t we had one of those in our family?”

“That was a groom on the run,” Bandera said dryly, giving him a pointed look. “Plural, actually.”

“I’m not running, I’m going on a well-needed sabbatical,” Holly corrected.

“Actually, you have an itch to get as far away from your fiancé as possible,” Mason theorized.

“You understand me totally. I am trying really hard not to cry,” Holly said. “You might have noticed my hair is done. My gown was chiffon and sequins—this is the top, the skirt I discarded—and I left the ring on the condom box I found on the kitchen counter.”

“In the kitchen?” Mason asked.

Holly shrugged. “They’d moved to the bedroom and didn’t hear me come into the house. There was a red bra lying in the fruit bowl and a trail of clothes leading into the den.” She sighed and blinked her eyes quickly, which made her look like a doll. A doll trying not to cry.

“I think the condom box was the right place to leave your engagement ring,” Bandera said, trying to be sympathetic. He really did not want her to cry. She was too pretty to be sad, he thought. I would make her smile all the time.

Mason groaned.

“So about that kiss…” Bandera began, unable to resist.

“Mike should have been here by now,” Holly said. Her gaze sought the long, empty road behind the truck. A stray curl fell from her pretty upsweep and brushed along the back of her neck. Bandera watched her lips bow as she worried. What man would be stupid enough to cheat on a mouth that could pucker into a perfect plump bud?

“Guess we should be going, since she doesn’t need a ride,” Mason said uncomfortably.

“Not so fast.” Bandera looked at Holly again. “Haste makes waste, you know.”

“Who said that?” Mason demanded, his tone low.

“Some wise man.” Bandera took a deep breath and turned to Holly. “Ride with us.”

She peered into the truck to see him better. “With you?”

He shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

“Why not indeed?” Mason said dryly. “We have nothing pressing.”

“What about my cousin?” she asked.

At that moment a motorcycle pulled up behind Mason’s truck. A loud gunning noise punctuated the arrival before the driver shut the engine off. A large, ponytailed man got off the bike and walked toward them.

“Cousin Mike?” Holly said.

“Yeah. Hey, Henshaw.”

They embraced briefly before Mike looked at Bandera and Mason. “They bothering you?”

“No,” Holly said hastily. “They thought I needed help.”