Montana Cowboy. Jillian HartЧитать онлайн книгу.
to worry. I’ll keep my eye on you.” He winked. Why did the man have to have a dazzling wink, too? His door closed and his truck’s engine roared to life.
“I’m dying,” Jerrod commented. “Air conditioning. Quick.”
“I doubt it will help in time. We may be a puddle of carbon-based goo before we reach the street.”
“No kidding.” Jerrod fanned himself, not that it would help, and whizzed down his window. The instant the engine turned over, he took charge of the a/c controls.
“So, not too bad so far, right?” She buckled up.
“At least we’re out of the house.” Jerrod frowned at the hot air spewing from the vents. “You’re sure there’ll be kids my age here?”
“That’s the word.” She checked her mirror, saw the grill of Luke’s truck lumbering closer and smiled in spite of herself. “You miss your friends back home.”
“You know it.” Jerrod leaned forward to catch the tepid air from the vents.
Luke motored by in his gleaming truck. She caught a flash of his smile as she pulled out to get in behind him. Here’s where her California driving skills came in handy. She nosed in front of a Buick jockeying for supremacy and angled in behind Luke’s tailgate. Skills honed from mall parking lots. Good to know they hadn’t gone rusty.
Her cell chimed. She scrambled for the Bluetooth earpiece and answered before it went to voice mail. “Hello?”
“Nice maneuvering back there. That was the minister’s car.”
“Oops!” She felt a twinge of guilt as she glanced in her rearview at the Buick idling behind her. “Between that and missing all but one percent of Sunday service, I’m in need of serious penance.”
“I’ll say. And before you ask, there’s not an afternoon service you can catch.”
“How did you know I was going to ask?” She flipped on her right blinker when his started to blink.
“I know you don’t like to miss church.”
“That’s right.” How many Sunday mornings had she ended a chat session because she needed to dash off to church? “It’s weird because you and I know each other, but at the same time we don’t. We’re strangers who are, well, strangers.”
“True. We just technically met.” His trunk made a neat turn onto the street.
She pulled up, took advantage of the clear road and turned after him. “So, tell me about where we’re going. You mentioned volleyball.”
“Shh. That’s top secret, remember? If anyone asks—”
“—I’ll deny any knowledge—”
“—or you’ll be disavowed.”
“Why do I suddenly want to hum the Mission: Impossible theme?”
“I don’t know, but I have the same urge.”
This was why she’d liked typing at Luke. He was fun. She scooted through a yellow light keeping on his tail, breezing through the intersection before the red. Perfect timing. “So, how does the volleyball team selection work in your family?”
“Don’t worry. When we choose sides, I’ll call you first.”
“You’re just going on my word that I can play. What if I’m exaggerating or have an overinflated opinion of my own skills?”
“That’s a risk I’m ready to take.”
“Aren’t those fateful words? Like pride goeth before a fall? Doom happens when you least expect it?”
“And here I thought you were an optimist. A glass-half-full kind of girl.”
“It depends on the day,” she quipped, following him through a housing development. “I’m always more positive on a full stomach. We were running late, so I missed breakfast.”
“The truth comes out. The concrete irrigation pipe being transported wasn’t the only reason you were late.”
“I was hoping you wouldn’t bring it up, but yes. I couldn’t decide what to wear. It’s been so long since I really got to dress up.” She scooted into a spot at the curb behind his truck. A slope of lush lawn led the way to a lovely brick Tudor, shaded by maples. Must be their destination. She hated turning off the engine, now that the a/c was finally blowing glacial cold.
“You’re one of those fashionista types, aren’t you? Always shopping?”
“Could be, but I’ve known worse.” She gave Jerrod a nod, who opened his door and spilled out into the heat. “I’m nothing like my mom and sisters. They are serious fashion divas.”
“And you are—”
“—a mild clothes fanatic. Nothing compared to if you put me in a bookstore, then look out.” She opened the door to sunshine.
“Same here.” Luke, towering over her, flipped his phone shut and held out his hand. “I can’t walk outta there without doing some damage.”
“Don’t expect me to find anything wrong with that.” She placed her hand in his, palm to palm and—zap! There went that zing of emotion charging through her again.
See, it has to be low blood sugar—again, she thought as she rose from her seat. The candy was out of her system, which was crashing. Proof she needed lunch and needed it fast. Because it definitely, absolutely, under no circumstances could be related to the fact that handsome, impressive, drop-dead gorgeous Luke McKaslin was holding her hand.
Probably best to ignore the fact that the sensation stopped when she released his hand.
“This is the groom’s grandfather’s home.” Luke led the way up a few steps. A curving walkway ribboned through grass to the shady sanctuary of the charming house. “He was generous enough to host the reception. I don’t think he truly understood what he was getting into, the poor man.”
“Yes, since I’ve met some of your family. Shockingly scary.”
“Tell me about it.” Luke rolled his eyes. On the front porch, a swing squeaked. A couple sat hand in hand watching over the little kids playing soccer on the large side yard. “Hey, Danielle. Jonas.”
“Hey, yourself,” the handsome, dark-haired man answered. “Didn’t know you were bringing a date.”
“I’m not,” Luke answered easily, opening the screen door for her. “This is my friend, Honor.”
“Hi, Honor,” Danielle smiled warmly. “A friend, huh?”
“Inside quick,” Luke whispered in her ear, steering her and they tumbled inside the gracious foyer, chuckling together. “I thought they would be better behaved about this, but I’m afraid this is only the beginning. It’s sort of embarrassing.”
“Don’t worry about it. They mean well.” She remembered the caring way his sisters and Lil had talked about him in the dressing room. Clearly his family loved him.
“That’s the problem. You know what they say about good intentions? That’s one road that can lead to no place good.” He took her by the elbow and steered her past a crowded living room, which opened to the right. Several “Hi, Luke”s rang out and a bold, “Aren’t you going to introduce us to your girl?” They kept going, bypassing the kitchen, too. Caterers bustled around marble counters and sunshine sparkled on a wall of windows, leading the way to the deck.
“Maybe you want to escape while you can or disavow all knowledge of me.” Luke released her elbow.
“It’s tempting.” She took a step back, surveying the man and the French door he held open for her. Maybe the zinging sensation she kept feeling had nothing to do with low blood sugar.
Wasn’t