“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.”
He shook his head. “Your mother’s going to be worried.”
“My mother will understand,” she said. “She wouldn’t want me marrying a man with the morals of a…bull.”
“Well, time for us to hit the road, Mason,” Bandera said. He figured they should. She might be cute, but she had issues. “Too bad about the kiss, though.”
“What kiss?” Cousin Mike demanded, bristling.
Though Bandera thought many men would probably want to kiss this beauty, he said, “No kiss here.”
“I was feeling the desire to rebound,” Little Miss Adventure said. “Love the one you’re with and all that.”
Bandera blinked, appreciating her recitation. She looked like a Holly. She looked like a rosebud. Gosh, he was certain she could be a Gertie May and he’d still find her ravishing. “You probably get kissed all the time.”
“I’ve never been kissed by a cowboy,” Holly said.
Mason’s brows rose as he looked from his brother to Holly. “Bandera, I’m going to let you drive. I need a nap.”
“He’s not the kissing type,” Bandera explained.
“No, I’m not,” Mason said, getting out of the driver’s seat and into the back of the double cab.
When Bandera stepped out of the truck Holly’s gaze roamed over his face. He smelled perfume and noticed she was dainty compared to him—a tiny bundle of femininity.
“I’d best go with Mike,” she said, looking up at him with what he thought was awe. For the first time in his life, he realized he liked being tall. Sweeping her up into his arms would be no problem. Making love to her would be—
“My mother would be upset if I rode off with two strange men,” Holly said.
His fantasy shot, Bandera eased behind the steering wheel and closed the door. He wanted to say that he thought he and Mason had less strangeness about them than Cousin Mike, but he figured that might not be suave. “We’ll be off, then.”
“Thanks for the offer, though. ’Bye, cowboy.”
Bandera nodded, tipping his hat. “Best of luck to you.” Putting the truck in Drive, he pulled away.
“Thought you were going to do it there for a minute,” Mason said.
Bandera watched the rearview mirror. Holly was getting on the back of the giant motorcycle and putting a helmet on. Even from this distance, it was easy to admire her nice long legs.
“I never kiss women who practice seduction on the rebound,” he said.
“Not when they have a Cousin Mike attached to them, anyway,” Mason said. “That seemed like a high-risk scenario.”
“Wonder why her fiancé was such a dope? Why do girls always hook up with losers?”
Mason grunted. “I think any comment at this point should be a sonnet from Wordsworth,