Belonging to Bandera

“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.”