them with the verve of a half-grown shelty. Watching her, Travis groaned inwardly. How could a father broach the subject of wearing a decent bra to his daughter?
“Hey, you’re waiting in the wrong place,” she said. “My bags’ll be coming off on number three…” Her voice trailed off as her gaze flickered to Eden’s sleek gray Pullman dangling from Travis’s hand, and then to Eden herself, who was scrambling to retrieve the matching garment bag.
“Uh…hi.” Nicole’s voice quavered uncertainly.
Sensing her mistaken impression, Travis stepped in quickly. “Nicole, this is Miss Eden Harper, one of my former schoolmates. She just flew in from New York and we, uh, sort of bumped into each other on the concourse.”
“Oh.” Nicole’s sharp brown eyes inspected Eden up and down before her face relaxed into a flippant grin. “New York, huh? That’s cool.”
“I’m pleased to meet you, Nicole.” Eden extended a slightly nervous hand, which Nicole accepted with the jerky politeness of a marionette.
“Eden’s on her way to Monroe. I’ve offered her a ride, and I do believe she’s accepted.” Travis avoided Eden’s eyes. So what if he was railroading her? He was a desperate man.
“Cool.” Nicole was still sizing up Eden, weighing the possibilities. “Hey, that jacket kicks!” she said. “Did you buy it in New York?”
“Uh-huh. At Bloomingdale’s. On clearance, I’m afraid, but definitely Bloomingdale’s.” An intriguing spark danced in Eden’s light green eyes. “You know, with your coloring, I’ll bet this jacket would look great on you. Why don’t we find out?”
Nicole might have protested, but Eden was already shrugging out of the beige linen suit jacket. Travis blinked as Nicole dropped her tote bag and turned a submissive back, arms sliding into the proffered sleeves. Within seconds, she was modestly covered.
“What do you think?” She struck a model’s pose for Eden’s approval.
“Sensational!” Eden grinned. “Want to wear it home?”
“Hey, could I really?” Nicole angled her body this way and that, inspecting the lapels and pockets. “Bloomingdale’s, huh? Cool.”
“Come on, let’s cut the fashion show and round up the baggage,” Travis growled, shooting Eden a glance of unabashed gratitude. He’d half expected the woman to bolt or protest on the spot. Instead, she had smoothed things over with a deftness that left him stunned.
Avoiding his gaze, Eden turned swiftly away—but not before he’d caught a jarring glimpse of what the jacket had concealed. Eden’s sleeveless peach silk blouse skimmed a curvaceous chest that he’d certainly never noticed on Edna Rae Harper. Maybe it was those baggy sweaters she’d always worn to school. Travis cursed silently as he tore his eyes away from the shadowed outline of lace beneath the gossamer-thin fabric. It was a good thing Nicole would be along to sit between them in the pickup. Otherwise, he could be in serious trouble.
Nicole’s twin duffels were leaden. Travis slung one from each shoulder and, with Nicole and Eden managing the rest of the luggage, they trudged out of the elevator onto the third level of the parking terrace.
“There’s the truck!” Nicole bounded ahead, dragging Eden’s wheeled Pullman case behind her. Travis deliberately slowed his steps, hoping Eden would stay back with him.
“I wanted to thank you while I have the chance,” he muttered, leaning close to her ear. “I was geared up for a battle royal over that outfit of hers.”
The subtle aura of Eden’s perfume tickled his senses as she walked deliberately ahead without glancing up at him. “Stay geared,” she hissed. “This is only the first skirmish. And the rest of the war is your problem, not mine.”
“You’re annoyed, aren’t you?”
She shot him an exasperated glance. “I just don’t want any gossip when we get home. And neither do you. People in small towns have long memories.”
“Well, I could always dump you in Richfield and let you hitch the last ten miles.”
Eden muttered something under her breath before releasing an explosive sigh. “All right. Truce. But after this, you’re on your own. I’ve spent sixteen years putting that awful day behind me, and nothing’s going to bring it back!”
She lengthened her step, heels clicking on the concrete as her long legs carried her away from him toward the pickup where Nicole waited.
Travis hung back, his emotions churning even as his gaze followed her sensual lioness walk.
What the hell, maybe she was right. Stirring up that ridiculous old scandal would do nothing for his image in the town, especially when word got out that he and Eden had been seen together. Leave the lady alone—that would be the smart thing to do.
Smart, yes.
But as Travis inhaled, the lingering scent of her perfume aroused a warm tingle that had nothing to do with wisdom.
Eden had reached the truck. She stood waiting for him to bring the key, gazing out over the rows of parked vehicles.
Travis pulled himself together with a mental slap. What was she being so uppity about, anyway? He had been the innocent party. And he would be the one to take the heat if things got stirred up again. Weeks from now, Miss Eden Harper would return to her New York world—a world so remote it might as well be on the moon. But he was the one who lived in Monroe. If anything happened between them, he was the one who’d be mopping up the mess.
Play it safe, Travis cautioned himself. Leave the lady on her doorstep and forget her.
But even as he strode toward the truck, he knew his willpower was going to have an uphill battle.
“I want to sit by the window!” Nicole hung on to the open door of the weather-beaten Ford pickup, swinging back and forth until the hinges squawked.
“Just climb in, young lady!” Travis’s shoulders rippled as he hefted the baggage, including Eden’s precious briefcase, into the truck’s open back. The truck bed had been swept, but green hay dust clung deep in the metal grooves, rich with the smell of home.
Eden’s memory stirred, recalling the small ranch Travis’s family had owned west of town on Poverty Flat. She remembered warm summer evenings, riding her bike along the back roads, filling her senses with the aroma of fresh-cut hay as she pedaled slowly past his gate. She remembered the wind in her hair, the mosquito bites on her legs, the exquisite surges of longing as she gazed toward his house….
“Please, Eden!” Nicole wheedled. “I want to see out! I get claustrophobia when I sit in the middle!”
“Now, listen…” Travis turned sharply, his voice harsh with annoyance. Sensing a confrontation, Eden impulsively stepped between them.
“It’s all right,” she said swiftly. “I really don’t mind sitting in the middle of the seat. Let Nicole have the window, if that’s what she wants.”
The thunderous scowl Travis flashed her made Eden realize she had
