McFarlane's Perfect Bride / Taming the Montana Millionaire: McFarlane's Perfect Bride. Teresa Southwick
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“Will CJ be there?” The sad dark eyes were suddenly brighter.
“Yeah. But I’m sure he’ll understand, if you’d rather—”
Jerilyn put up a hand. “Please. I want to go. My bike’s at your house. Can you pick me up?”
Tori named a time and Jerilyn said she would be ready.
As Tori and her dad got back in the rental, she offered, “Hungry?”
Her dad shook his head. “Butch gave me a sandwich. And I need to get to Bozeman. There’s a flight to Denver at ten to nine.”
They drove back to Tori’s house.
“That’s one shiny SUV,” her dad said when he pulled to a stop behind the expensive vehicle. “And there’s a man on your porch.”
Tori glanced over and saw Connor sitting on her top step, wearing pricey jeans, expensive boots and a dark-colored knit shirt. The sight of him caused her heart to do a happy somersault inside her chest. Which was ridiculous. And physically impossible. “It’s Connor. He’s … a friend,” she said, sounding absurdly breathless. Connor rose and came down the steps. She added, “I’ll introduce you to him, Dad.”
Connor was already at her side door. She rolled her window down. He was smiling. But his eyes were cool. Maybe he wasn’t all that happy about watching her drive up with a strange man.
“Hey,” he said. “I got worried about you.”
“Connor, this is my father, Dr. Sherwood Jones.”
Suddenly, his dark eyes had warmth in them again. “Dr. Jones. Hello.”
Her dad stuck his arm across the seat. “Good to meet you, Connor.” Connor put out his hand, too. Tori leaned out of the way so they could shake.
Then Sherwood gunned the engine. “I hate to run off. But I have to get a move on or I’ll miss that last flight. And while your stepmother is a very understanding woman, she insists I save Sundays for her and the boys.”
Tori leaned across the console and kissed his cheek. “Thanks, Dad.”
“Anytime.”
“Kiss Lucille and hug my brothers for me.”
“Will do.”
Connor opened her door for her and she got out. With a final wave, Tori’s dad drove off.
She felt Connor’s hand settle at her waist. A little thrill went through her at the contact. She chided him, “I said I would call.”
“I should be more patient, I know.”
“Yes, you should. Especially considering that we’ve only had one date.”
“Two, if you count tomorrow.”
She laughed. “It’s not tomorrow yet.” And then she confessed, “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me, too.” He pulled her closer to his side. “What was that all about?”
She looked up into those beautiful eyes of his and wanted to trust him—even if he was a shark. “I’m starving.”
“Are you going to tell me what happened today?”
“Probably. But right now, I want to eat.”
“You want to go out?”
“You know, you’re sneaking in a third date on me and we haven’t even gotten through the second one yet.”
“It’s true. That’s exactly what I’m doing. We could go to—”
She didn’t let him finish. “No. I’ve got some stuffed shells in the fridge. And I’ll make a salad. You want pasta?”
“I ate with CJ. But if you twisted my arm, I’d have a little something.”
“Jerilyn will be coming with us tomorrow.”
“Terrific. I wasn’t looking forward to telling CJ otherwise.”
They went up the walk together, circling Jerilyn’s bike when they got to it. Tori made a mental note to take it up to the porch before she went to bed.
Inside, Connor pushed the front door shut behind them and caught her hand when she would have headed straight for the kitchen.
“Wait a minute …” His warm, strong arms came around her.
“Oh, Connor …”
“Shh.” He lowered his mouth to hers.
It was a beautiful kiss. Slow, lazy, gradually deepening. His arms felt so good around her and her body seemed to hum in response to him, as if she were somehow tuned to him—to his touch, to his strong body pressed so close to hers, to his lips that were doing magical things to hers. Even to the scent of him, which was clean and so manly. He tasted of mint. And of heat. She never wanted to pull away.
But she did. “Dinner. I mean it.”
In the kitchen, she warmed up the giant herb-and-cheese stuffed pasta shells and put a salad together. He ate two shells and two pieces of garlic bread. She sat across from him at her breakfast nook table and couldn’t believe how comfortable it felt having him there.
Comfortable. And kind of thrilling. Both at the same time.
Was that good?
Or just plain dangerous? The last thing she needed was to fall for Connor McFarlane, who would wreak havoc up at the resort, cause people to lose their livelihoods—and then go back east before the first snow.
“Does Melanie know you’re planning to take over the resort?”
He set down his fork. “The shells were really good. And who says I’m planning to take over the resort?”
“Well, if you were—and she didn’t know—that might not be such a great thing for your relationship with her, that you might be doing something that affects her community and you haven’t even bothered to tell her. I mean, if you’re not going tell me, you at least should tell her what you’re up to, don’t you think?”
He had picked up his water glass. But he set it down without taking a drink. “Yes,” he said blandly. “I suppose, if I were planning a buyout of the resort, that maybe I ought to tell my sister what I have in mind.”
“Will you, then? Will you tell her?”
He only gazed at her, his face a mask, unreadable.
Suddenly, she was furious with him. But why?
Self-preservation, maybe. She could still feel the warm, exciting pressure of his lips on hers, still remember the thrill of his arms wrapped tightly around her.
Really,