lean, loud and rebellious. The oldest of the notorious Jericho brothers—a hot, handsome trio of heartbreakers who’d invented the word scandal. A leather-clad bad boy who’d ridden a screaming chrome demon and shot every rule to hell and back. The boy voted Most Likely to Serve Time in a Maximum Security Prison.
Dangerous. That had been Austin way back when.
His attitude. His looks. His effect on the opposite sex.
Only a select few females had been lucky enough to keep company with him, however. Most had been blond and beautiful, with big boobs and even bigger egos. All had been as wild as the boy himself.
Mousy-brown hair, a chubby figure—thanks to all those Saturday nights at the bakeshop—and a hum-drum existence had knocked Madeline completely out of the running. She’d had to settle for lusting after him from afar.
Then and now.
As soon as the thought struck, she stiffened. While she was, indeed, staring and lusting from a substantial distance, things had changed.
She’d changed.
Expensive blond highlights, a strict diet-and-exercise regime, makeup lessons and subscriptions to Cosmopolitan and Vogue had seen to that. But even more, she’d evolved on the inside, as well as the outside. She no longer settled for what life doled out. She didn’t sit around waiting for luck or the right moment or perfect alignment of the planets to experience what life had to offer. She went after what she wanted when she wanted it. She didn’t content herself with dreams. She made things happen, and she lived for every exciting moment.
Her cell phone chose that moment to shriek, drawing her attention away from the sweaty, succulent picture of Austin to the overflowing leather sack she called a purse.
“Girlfriend, where are you?” Janice demanded. Janice was the ex-vice president of the Chem Gems and the maid of honor for Cheryl Louise Martin’s wedding—the reason Madeline had taken time off from her job at V.A.M.P. Cosmetics to make the hundred-and-fifty-mile drive from Dallas to her small hometown.
Cheryl Louise, two years Maddie’s junior, had been an honorary Chem Gem thanks to her older sister, Sharon, who’d let her tag along to study group. Their parents had been busy running Chester’s Diner—the family business—and so Sharon had been in charge of her little sister while her dad cooked and her mom waited tables. Since the Chem Gems—all five of them—had been best friends as well as study partners, they’d all taken charge of Cheryl, particularly Madeline. She and Sharon had been best friends since kindergarten.
Had.
An image rushed at her. Of a dark night and a deadly curve and a monstrous tree and…
Madeline closed her mind to the memory the way she always did. Sharon’s death was in the past and dwelling on that night wasn’t going to bring her friend back.
Besides, Sharon wouldn’t want tears ruining the occasion. She would want her little sister to have a grand send-off. Exactly what the Chem Gems intended to give her.
Starting with the bachelorette party tonight.
“He-llo?” Janice’s impatient voice drifted over the line. “Girl, you were supposed to be here ten minutes ago to hang crepe paper for the pre-party festivities.”
“I’m at Skeeter’s getting everything on the list you dictated over the phone to me last night.” Her gaze drifted back to the window in time to see Austin hoist the last sack of feed, pull off his gloves and stuff them into his back pocket. How he fit anything back there was a puzzle for Einstein himself.
“…get the extra batteries for Sarah’s camera?” The tail end of Janice’s question pushed past the pounding of Madeline’s heart.
She forced a deep breath and shifted her attention to her basket. “Got ’em.”
“How about the extra rolls of film?”
“Got ’em.” She had to get control of herself. She wasn’t seventeen anymore and Austin Jericho wasn’t all that. He was just a man. Just flesh and blood. Just tanned skin and bulging muscle.
The thought drew a quick image from one of her favorite Austin fantasies.
He gripped the hem of his T-shirt. Material bunched and crept up his rock-hard abdomen and broad chest, until he pulled the soft cotton over his head and tossed it aside. Tanned fingers went to the button on his snug jeans. The edges sagged with relief as the fastening slid free. A zipper hissed and parted and…
Madeline derailed the thought before she went around the curve into The Land of the Sexually Deprived.
That was the problem.
Over the past six months, she’d been so fixated on developing a new body lotion for V.A.M.P. that her personal life had fallen by the wayside. She hadn’t been out on a Saturday night since the project’s start. She was bound to go a little bonkers when faced with a hot, sweaty cowboy.
Particularly this hot, sweaty cowboy who’d dominated her adolescent fantasies, and a few of her adult ones, as well.
“…there? Earth to Madeline?” Janice huffed. “Girlfriend, what is with you?”
“I’m tired, that’s all. I just drove in this morning.”
“You’ll have plenty of time to rest after tomorrow.”
Two weeks to be exact. Madeline had vetoed buying a bread maker for a wedding present and, instead, had promised to house-sit for Cheryl while she honeymooned in the Bahamas. Madeline would have bought the appliance, but hearing the young woman fret over who was going to take care of her plants and her dog had been too much. Madeline didn’t do guilt very well, so she’d volunteered.
Besides, when she worked on a project, she preferred solitude. No colleagues interrupting her, no higher-ups chomping at the bit for a hint about what she was doing, no marketing personnel bugging her about deadlines. This way, everyone would be miles away and she could concentrate.
Not that she didn’t like the big city and its noise and chaos. And its traffic. And its smog. And its endless miles of concrete. She loved it all. That’s why she’d left Cadillac in the first place.
At least that’s what Madeline had told herself for the past twelve years. So often, in fact, that she’d actually started to believe it.
“Don’t forget the balloons. They have balloons, don’t they? I’ve gotten used to a Wal-Mart on every corner. Cadillac could take some lessons from Houston.”
“Some people like a slower pace.” What was she saying? The truth, a voice whispered. Some people do like a slower pace.
Madeline just wasn’t one of them. Was she?
“And there are people who pierce major body parts, too, but that doesn’t mean they’re sane.” Janice’s voice took on her familiar I-want-everything-to-go-perfectly desperation. “Please tell me they have balloons.”
“I’m about to find out.” Madeline headed down one of the aisles, passed a variety of cookies in favor of a large package of Double Stuffed Oreos. Otherwise known as inspiration. Whenever she came up against a brick wall at work, she would indulge in Oreos and
