tragically concerned for Sam. “But I’m doing fine. This sexy, amazing woman has just agreed to—”
“Yeah, yeah.” John helped his friend none too gently to sit up. “You big faker.”
“Faker!” Sam looked outraged, any trace of the fallout he’d had gone for good. “I’m not faking anything!”
“Oh, you’re a faker all right.” John glared at the man whose back he’d had in Afghanistan, and vice versa. “Yelling at the top of your lungs that you want nothing to do with marriage, and the second I turn my back, you go and get—”
“What does your back have to do with anything?” Sam demanded.
“I’d like to know that myself.” Daisy’s concern turned to annoyance. “And what are you doing here, anyway? Last I saw you, you were heading north.”
“I am heading north.” He could barely meet Daisy’s gaze. The truth was, his good sense had evaporated once he’d realized he was an epic dunce for letting her get away. He’d hopped into his truck and followed, not sure why, his heart driving him like a mad man. “You shouldn’t have to drive all the way back to Bridesmaids Creek with Handsome Sam here. The least I can do is offer to fly you back. However, I had no idea that you and Sam—”
“Yep,” Sam said, coming out of his coma ever more strongly by the second. He thumped his chest with pride. “Offer me the cup of congratulations, old buddy, old pal, I’m getting married.”
“So you claimed.”
John glanced at Daisy, but she didn’t deny Sam’s astonishing brag. Everyone knew that Sam was the last man on earth—the very last of any tribe, clan, or nationality—who would ever marry. Daisy gazed at him steadily, not appearing to be preparing to open her sumptuous, delightful lips for any sort of rebuttal, and John’s heart fell to the ground, rolled around in the dust of the parking lot, then gave up the ghost.
“In fact, I’m having a baby,” Sam said cheerfully, and the ghost of John’s heart not only gave up, it poofed into nothingness. He felt cold all over, then hot, then drained. “We’re having a baby.”
“A baby?”
“It appears I’m going to be a father.” Sam shook his head. “An astonishing thing, no?”
“Very.” John raised a brow. “Let me get this straight. Daisy came after me, but you wanted her for yourself, and so you offered to drive her—”
“Just so.” Sam nodded. John glanced to Daisy, who merely shrugged.
He stepped back from his friend, trying to piece all this together. Everyone knew Sam was a trickster beyond compare—if Shakespeare had still been alive, he could have written plays about this wizard of wackiness—but marriage? A baby?
John shook his head. “You two are fibbing through your teeth, but I’m darned if I know why.”
Daisy didn’t say anything, and Sam kept very still, like he was one breath short of hyperventilating again. John sighed. “Are you really this fickle? Or are you trying to make a point? Because I wouldn’t put it past either one of you.”
“What difference does it make to you?” Daisy asked.
“None.” It meant every difference. He’d waited years for Daisy to come to her senses and realize he was the man of her dreams. Then, when she had come to her senses, he’d lost every one of his, apparently. Maybe lust had fried his brain. “Anyway, if you’re content to ride home with my loose-marbled friend here, that’s fine. I just wanted you to know that you could go by plane, too.”
“You couldn’t call to make your generous offer?” Daisy looked at him, and he thought she wasn’t buying his cover story.
“I could have, but it seemed best to inquire in person.” He looked at Sam. “My friend here means a lot to me. I know he was trying to do me a favor by bringing you after me.”
“Really?” Daisy put a hand on a slim hip. “A favor? Does Sam truck women after you often, then?”
“Not at all. Which is why I felt the occasion merited the personal treatment.”
“Well, thank you so much.”
Daisy didn’t sound very grateful. In fact, he thought he’d detected a tiny undertone of snark. He looked at her. “A baby? You two expect me to buy that you’re having a baby?” He cast a gaze at her very flat stomach, with which he was intimately familiar, having spent hours kissing that very toned, very delectable flesh. “Something’s off about this whole story.”
It was indeed off. He’d used condoms with Daisy. She’d been very fine with that, in fact, one might even have said helpful, a foreplay which had stretched his manly capabilities to the max. John practically got stiff thinking about it. “A baby,” he repeated. “I just don’t think you have it in you, old man.”
“What?” Sam squawked, sitting straight up with indignation. “I think I can handle parenthood just fine, thanks.”
John shook his head. There was an alternate reality in here, he knew there was, but these two were thick as thieves about something. He looked at both of them, and then it hit him: his buddy was attempting to paint a bull’s-eye on him with one of his infamous pranks.
Yes, Handsome Sam Barr was trying to pull a fast one.
And the only way to neutralize having a bull’s-eye painted on one’s hindquarters was to pull a faster one.
“You know,” John said, “as I recall, Vegas is only a couple hours from here. Probably quite doable as a wedding destination in one day, considering how you like to apply your boot to the pedal.”
Sam nodded vigorously. “We should be able to make it by nightfall for a romantic destination.”
John looked at Daisy. “I wish you two well.”
Daisy nodded, but she seemed uncertain. “Thank you.”
“All right, then.” Taking a deep breath, John got into the double cab, seating himself behind Sam and Daisy, and belted himself in with a grin.
“What are you doing?” Daisy turned to meet John’s mischievous gaze.
“I’m riding with you to Vegas.” He put his hands behind his head, looking very comfortable and even pleased with himself.
Daisy frowned. “Why?”
He clapped Sam on the shoulder. “I can’t let my buddy get married without a best man. And I am the best man. You may not know this about Sam and me, but we’ve seen some very dark days. Together, we survived.”
Daisy glanced at Sam. He shrugged, and she thought she saw a little what-can-we-do? in his expressive eyes.
“We are best friends,” Sam said.
Daisy turned to stare out the window. “I don’t care.”
