Blind-Date Bride. Jillian Hart
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You’re fine, Bree. Everything’s fine. The road is well lit. You’re going to be okay. Doom is not right around the corner. She glanced to her left and right, wanting to be aware of her environment. A pair of students, with backpacks slung over their shoulders, walked along the sidewalk on the other side of the street. Light spilled from the streetlight above, and the parking lot paralleling the road was busy with people. Students piled out of cars or carried pizza in boxes back to their vehicles, and shoppers walked along the specialty shops browsing.
No reason to panic. She shook snow off her bike helmet, wiped her eyes with her sleeve and focused on the light overhead. Okay, it could turn any time now. Once she was moving, she would feel less vulnerable.
A big white truck pulled up in the lane beside her. No big deal. Except for the fact that the passenger window began to roll down. Great. It was going to be all right, even if she didn’t recognize the truck.
Wait. Or did she? There was something at the back of her mind, a memory just out of reach. Recognition bolted through her like lightning. Max. It looked like his truck. And, the man shadowed in the interior of the truck looked remarkably like him, too.
“What are you doing out here in this?” Max Decker hung out the window, clearly undaunted by the cold and the pummeling snow.
It wasn’t relief that zipped through her like a funnel cloud. No, it was something much more troubling. “Hey, detective. I didn’t think I would ever see you again.”
“Haven’t been on a blind date lately.” His lopsided grin could have been a movie star’s. “What are you doing out in this weather?” he repeated.
“My stolen car hasn’t turned up yet.” She couldn’t help feeling like a doofus. Hel-lo? Max had a lot going for him—and she so didn’t, the proof being she was on her old ten-speed. “I didn’t go for the rental-car part of the policy, so here I am, biking it.”
“Can we give you a lift? This is Marcus, my little brother. Half brother, really, but I’m stuck with him the same as if he was the real thing.” He winked, obviously joking. The teenager behind the wheel gave a “Hey!” in good-natured protest.
So, a new piece of the puzzle that was Max Decker. Interesting. Brianna swiped another snowflake from her eye and noticed the light had changed. Green glowed in the falling snow as she waved off his offer. No cars had pulled in behind them so she had time to answer. “Thanks, but I only have six blocks to go.”
“Six blocks, huh?” He glanced down the street, thoughtful and unruffled. “Six block up, there’s another shopping mall. You can’t live there.”
“No, but my sister works there. My half sister, since we’re being specific.” She couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Was she flirting with him?
Most of all, was he flirting with her?
No, he couldn’t be. No way. She gripped both handlebars securely, both ready to kick off and unable to move.
“It’s snowing harder.” His tranquil observation forced her to notice the pummeling flakes now falling as if they were hail. Tap, tap, tap on the street, obscuring the road ahead. Thump, thump, thump on her helmet. His door swung open and he hopped to the ground. “Looks like the weather’s getting serious. Stow your bike in the back. Go on, get up in there.”
“But, it’s only six blocks.”
“Just do it.” His order was softened by something in his voice. Concern. Caring. Interest?
No, that was just her hopes talking. “It’s my policy not to take orders from domineering men.”
“Every policy has got to be broken some time.” He planted one capable hand in the middle of the handlebars, holding the contraption steady. “Go on, climb in. It’s warm in the truck. Shelter from the storm.”
Yeah, she knew all about that. The intense blue glint in his eyes and the tug of amusement at the corner of his mouth and his commanding presence made her weak. Too weak. She had an independent streak a mile wide, but it shrank to nothing as she swung off the bike.
“Marcus, turn on the hazards, would ya?” He lifted it easily, hauled it after them and opened the door for her. “And amp up the defroster.”
“Aye, aye, captain.”
Bree caught an impression of a strong-featured teenager—a shock of dark hair and mocking deep blue eyes—before she plopped onto the seat. Max remained at her side, riveting her attention, filling her senses: the crisp scent of the snowy night, the dark hint of a five-o’clock shadow on his strong jaw, the vibration of his voice and the heat radiating off him as he leaned close.
Stop noticing, Bree, she instructed, but did she comply? Impossible.
“Brianna, meet Marcus. Kid, you be nice to the lady until I get back.”
“We’re still going for pizza, aren’t we?” The teenager looked alarmed.
“Food. It’s all he thinks about.” Max shook his head, winked at her and closed the door.
Warmth cradled her as the heater blasted over her face. As she struggled with her helmet straps and snow tumbled onto her lap, onto the seat, onto the floor. She shivered. Apparently she hadn’t realized she was a walking, talking, biking human icicle until Max had stepped away from her. Proof that she was way too hung up on the man.
Try a little dignity, huh? She blushed, realizing the brother was watching her. He was a big kid, wide-set the way Max was, and sharp-eyed. He hadn’t missed a thing.
“He’s not bad. Wanna go to eat with us? We’re gettin’ pizza.”
The back door of the crew cab swung open. “No, kid, she probably doesn’t want to get pizza with us. You don’t have to feel obligated, Bree.”
“Oh, I don’t—”
Marcus piped in. “Did you eat yet?”
“Well, no I—”
“Then you should come with us.” The kid grinned into the rearview mirror, as if he thought himself pretty smart. “The lady gets to pick the pizza toppings.”
“You don’t have to say yes, Brianna.” Max snapped his seat belt into place. “You might have something better to do with your sister.”
“Actually, I’m hanging out until she’s done working to get a ride home.” She twisted in the seat, peering over the headrest at him.
“You aren’t saying no?” He wanted to be sure he got that right.
“I’m not saying no. It’s tempting.” She settled back against the seat as the truck ambled through the intersection. “But I have a fondness for pepperoni.”
Now he had to like her. He had a weakness for pepperoni—and nothing else. “How much longer do you have to go car-less?”
“The insurance company says they will issue a check next week, but you know how that goes.”
“Do I.” He buckled in but couldn’t relax.