Montana Cowboy. Jillian Hart

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Montana Cowboy - Jillian Hart Mills & Boon Love Inspired

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never would have been me, she thought as she tripped into the vestibule. She never would have felt joyful marrying Kip. Just the proof she’d needed to know she made the right decision.

      “Honor.” Luke offered her his arm, the consummate groomsman. “May I escort you to your seat?”

      “I would love that.” As she slipped her arm through his, emotion fluttered in her heart. Light, sweet and full of peace, that feeling stayed with her as she stumbled forward at his side, her feet barely touching the ground.

      This is what I get for skipping breakfast, she thought as she seemed to float down the aisle. Light-headed, shivery, quick, swooping pulse. Those were definitely signs of low blood sugar and not romantic interest, and they were easily remedied. Big relief there.

      “Don’t believe a single word they said about me,” he advised.

      “You mean you’re not nice? You’re not a good guy?”

      “Okay, I sure try to be.” A grin carved into his features, softening the rugged planes of his face and bringing out those swoon-worthy dimples. “But I’m sure that wasn’t the gist of the conversation.”

      “How did you know you were even mentioned?”

      “Uh, cuz my sisters meddle. Lil is the worst.”

      “They did happen to mention you were single and available, but don’t worry, I thwarted them at every turn by changing the subject.”

      “Did it work?”

      “Eventually. I’m persistent. Others see it as stubborn, but that’s not entirely a bad thing.” A little breathless, she was glad when Luke stopped at the end of a row. “I finally steered the conversation back to the bride. She looks beautiful, by the way, so prepare yourself.”

      “I have no doubt.”

      Luke’s eyes had little flecks of gold in them, stunning against the violet-blue, so stunning she couldn’t seem to look away. Definitely strange, too, she thought, more light-headed, still. Perhaps she’d break into the candy she kept in the bottom of her purse. That ought to chase away her symptoms. She slipped her arm from his. “Thank you for escorting me.”

      “My pleasure.”

      Oh, but those dimples could dazzle any woman. Good thing they didn’t have an effect on her. No way, no how. Her shoes tapped against the floor as she scooted into the row. “I’ll see you after?”

      “I’ll hang back so you can follow me,” Luke said as he pivoted, talking over his shoulder. “I drive a white truck. Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye out for you in the parking lot.”

      “Thanks,” she said, but he was gone, hurrying to seat a latecoming guest.

      The other groomsmen were lined up at the front, the groom a calm, content-looking man who joked with his best man. The low rumble of their laughter blended with the din of the crowd and the rise and fall of notes from the quartet. Finally the crowd hushed as the minister took his place and the processional music began.

      “Are you sure the cake will be good?” Jerrod whispered to her as he put his iPod on pause. Apparently he knew where his priorities were.

      “Positively.”

      As quietly as she could, she unlatched her handbag and dug out a roll of candy. She offered it to Jerrod first, who happily took a few, ripped the paper farther down on the roll and popped the sweet-tart lozenge into her mouth. Flavor exploded on her tongue. Take that, low blood sugar.

      An adorable little girl with bouncy brown curls paraded down the aisle, tossing rose petals from her fancy white basket. She looked like a cherub with angelic cheeks and sweet button face. Her snowy lacy dress swung around her knees. Completely adorable.

      “That’s Madison, my niece,” whispered the woman who’d visited the dressing room. The baker, cousin Ava, leaned over the back of the pew, eyes wide with curiosity. “Isn’t she adorable? I hear you are dating Luke?”

      “Not dating,” she corrected way too fast and way too defensive. Best to blame that on the low blood sugar, too. “Everyone has the wrong idea. Luke and I are just friends.”

      “Sure. I know what you mean. That’s the best place to start.”

      Not sure how to argue with that, she held her tongue. The little ring bearer strode down the aisle, a cute little boy sure of his duty.

      “My nephew, Tyler,” Ava informed her.

      The bridesmaids came next, strolling down the aisle carrying bouquets of daisies. Each dress was a different color—blue, lilac and gold. When they reached the front, Honor noticed Luke standing alongside the best man, shoulders set, back straight, striking in his dark suit. Incredibly fine-looking.

      Her heart gave another swoop, so she popped a second candy into her mouth. That was absolutely the last time she was skipping breakfast.

      * * *

      Exultation flitted in the air like the scent of roses from a nearby border row as friends and family descended the church stairs and streamed toward their vehicles, buckled in and zoomed off. Honor beeped the remote, her car door locks popped and Jerrod dropped into the passenger seat. She went up on tiptoe, looking around for a sign of Luke. White pickup, he’d said. She frowned, seeing at least ten white trucks gleaming in the lot. Now what?

      “Over here!” called a familiar voice.

      She whirled around, shading her eyes with her hand as she squinted into the hot noon sun. “There you are. Did you know there are at least a dozen white pickups in this lot?”

      “Sorry.” He eased behind the wheel, leaving the door open so he could holler across the roof of a departing car. “I’d planned on finding you in the crowd, but you made a fast dash toward the exit.”

      “It was hard not to. It was like being a salmon in a river current. I decided to go with the flow.”

      “The McKaslins and friends are a desperate bunch when we get hungry.”

      “I know, right?” She slipped into the leather seat, scorching from sitting in the sun. Yikes. Her fingers seared when she touched the steering wheel. “Is it very far?”

      If so, she’d likely melt.

      “Not too far. Follow me.”

      She eyed the mad dash of vehicles toward the exit. “I’ll try.”

      “Not to worry. I’ll keep my eye on you.” He winked. Why did the man have to have a dazzling wink, too? His door closed and his truck’s engine roared to life.

      “I’m dying,” Jerrod commented. “Air conditioning. Quick.”

      “I doubt it will help in time. We may be a puddle of carbon-based goo before we reach the street.”

      “No kidding.” Jerrod fanned himself, not that it would help, and whizzed down his window. The instant the engine turned over, he took charge of the a/c controls.

      “So, not too bad so far,

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