Lori Wilde

Stop The Wedding!: Night Driving / Smooth Sailing / Crash Landing


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something to her. She threw back her head and laughed with a rich, deep sound that rattled him to his core. No wonder people surrounded her like they were honeybees and she was their queen.

      His gaze tracked from Tara’s face down her long, slender throat to the cleavage revealed by the V-neck of her tie-dyed T-shirt. She had a cola in her hand. No beer for her, since she would be driving later tonight. His eyes dropped lower to take in those denim shorts sitting low on her curvy hips. The cuffed hem hit high on her thighs, showing off those pinup-quality legs.

      He felt a stirring below his belt and swallowed hard. No, no. No way. She might be sexy as ten kinds of sin, but he was not even going to allow himself to fantasize about her. That was just inviting trouble. He had to be confined in a car with her for the next several days. He was not letting his libido off the chain. His focus was on getting to Key West to keep Jackie from making a huge mistake, and he was not going to let anything distract him.

      Not even sexy Tara.

      In fact, he was antsy as hell, hating that he had to wait for her to wind down this dumb party so they could get on the road. Plus, his leg was achy. He needed to get up and move around. He hoisted himself from the chair and limped toward the door.

      The summer sun hung on the horizon. The evening breeze was cool against his face. Perfect. Just what he needed to snap him out of red-hot thoughts about Tara. He wasn’t the kind of guy who went in for temporary flings, and of course that’s all it could be between them. Not just because she was moving away, but because they had as much in common as a brightly colored helium balloon and a brick wall.

      You’re the brick wall.

      That hadn’t been a bad thing back in high school when he’d played linebacker. Or in the army where physical strength was a man’s biggest asset. But now? The qualities he’d cultivated—staunchness, dependability, strength—were either lost to him or passé. What was a soldier without an enemy to vanquish?

      “You’re doing it again,” a light voice murmured behind him.

      Too close behind him. He could feel her body heat. Tara again. Violating boundaries. Hadn’t she ever heard of personal space?

      He stepped away from her and in his haste, almost lost his balance. If she hadn’t reached out a hand to stabilize him, he would have taken a tumble off her porch. Damn knee. Damn heavy brace.

      “Doing what?” he grumbled, wrenching his arm away. He caught a glimpse of her face in the shadows. For a split second she looked hurt, but quickly pasted a smile on her face.

      You’re a moron, Toliver.

      “Brooding,” she said.

      “I’m not brooding. I just needed some air.”

      “Come back inside and have some pizza and beer,” she invited, her voice soft and understanding.

      She was so nice. Too damn nice. And ultimately, that was the real reason he would never ever sleep with her. He couldn’t taint her happy little world. That’s why he was gruff with her.

      Well, she’s moving now, all you have to do is get through the next few days and she’ll be out of your life forever.

      Why did that thought make his gut burn? He was glad she was going. No more having to make idle conversation with her. No more having to respond to her cheery conversations. No more Tara cluttering up his thoughts.

      “We need to get on the road.” He hitched his thumbs through his belt loops.

      “Right.” Her smile was wan. “You have a wedding to bust up.”

      “Jackie’s making a big mistake.”

      “Because you know her so well.” She was taunting him now, in that wide-eyed, “who, me?” way she had about her—all innocent, yet sly.

      “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.