Belonging to Bandera. Tina Leonard

dragged his gaze back to the road once more, realizing instantly that this was no fight-fire-with-fire miss they had with them. Mason wouldn’t have been stirred to confession if he hadn’t sensed a fellow injured soul to confide in.

      Holly might not have loved her ex like she should have—or she would have thrown a fit when Bandera had hung up on him; if anything, she’d looked relieved—but she was hurt by what had happened.

      And that’s when he knew: This was a woman who wouldn’t look over her shoulder when a man hurt her. Hell, he ought to have figured that when she’d tossed her garter through the truck window. She was a great-escape type of girl. There was enough of that in the Jefferson family that he should have recognized the trait right off the bat.

      And suddenly, he wanted to mend his ways. The urge to start over, to make her see he could do things right, was strong inside him. “Hey,” he said, “I’m sorry.”

      “For what?”

      “I shouldn’t have said what I did. Maybe I shouldn’t have hung up on your, uh, fiancé. It’s possible I should butt out of your business.”

      “No,” she said slowly. “I’m grateful. I didn’t want to ever speak to him again.”

      “Say the word if you have second thoughts, and this truck can get you right back to your family.”

      “I’m good,” she said. “I’m really feeling better now that I’m on the open road.”

      “It feels good to me, too,” Mike said from the back seat. “There are cards in here.”

      “I feel like rummy,” Mason said.

      “Hot damn.”

      Bandera listened to the sound of shuffling behind him, wondering how he could say more without the peanut gallery witnessing it all. Before he could figure it out, Holly said, while studying the top of the map, “I want to go to Canada one day.”

      “Why?”

      “I don’t know. And Alaska. I dream of fishing in Alaska.”

      He couldn’t say he had dreamed of that, exactly. “Maybe you’ll get there some day.”

      “We were going to honeymoon in Cancun.” She glanced up at him. “Do you know, I really didn’t want to go to Cancun. I wanted to go somewhere and hike, but Chuck said that wasn’t romantic. I guess it’s not, is it?”

      Bandera shrugged, thinking he could probably get romantic anywhere with Holly, if she was in the mood.

      He frowned. Sex seemed to be ruling his brain, ever since the moment he’d met Holly. He had the strangest conviction that this escape artist shouldn’t escape from him.

      “Bike shop up ahead,” he said. “I think you’ll like this place, Mike.”

      “Just when I had a hot hand.” Mike put the cards away. “Another time, Mason.”

      “Sure.”

      The four of them got out after Bandera parked the truck. Bandera helped Mike ease the Harley from the truck bed while Mason went to get the shop owner. Holly hung back, still staring at the map, so Bandera went over to join her.

      “We’re going to get there, don’t worry,” he said. “I wasn’t serious about you having to read the map.”

      “Good. Because I’m not exactly sure where you’re going. But it was nice of you to give us a ride here.”

      Yeah. So nice of him to think about sex the whole time he’d had her in Mason’s truck. He looked at her pretty hair, the do she would have worn to be married, and the halter top, and the sparkly earrings, and something made him ask, “When will you come back this way?”

      “I don’t know.” She folded the map, laying it on the seat. “Depends on where Mike’s going. What about you? When will you be back in Texas?”

      Bandera shrugged. “Couple days. I think. It’s kind of hard to figure out Mason recently.”

      “He’s so sad.” She looked over her shoulder to where Mason and Mike were checking out the Harley with the shop owner.

      “Sad?” Bandera touched her fingers, wanting one feel of her skin before he never saw her again. “How can you tell?”

      “How can you not?” She looked at him funny. “It’s like his soul is old.”

      “Yeah.” Bandera nodded. “He’s always been that way.”

      “Really?” She moved her fingers away from his ever so smoothly, but he still noticed her withdrawal. Ah, well, he knew he’d been pushing his luck. He just hadn’t been able to help himself. She was so unlike any woman he’d ever met. “I hope I didn’t offend you in any way,” he said. “I don’t always know how to treat a lady.”

      “I thought you did fine,” she said softly. “You took my mind off the whole wretched matter, and somehow, I feel much better.” She looked at him. “I thought I was going to die of mortification, and now that I’ve met you, I’m pretty sure the best thing that could have happened did.”

      He grinned. “I’m sure you’re right.”

      “Can I ask you a question?”

      “Shoot.” Let it be the magic question, he thought. Yes, you can have a ride in my truck, anywhere you want to go.

      She took a deep breath. “Would you marry a girl who didn’t sleep with you before the wedding?”

      He was dumbstruck. Was she proposing? No, she wasn’t. He shook his head to clear it.

      “I didn’t think so,” she said. “Maybe I sabotaged my own wedding—”

      “Wait,” he said hastily. “I haven’t answered yet. I was thinking.”

      “You were shaking your head.”

      “Yeah, but I always shake my head when I think,” he said. “I haven’t ever been asked that question. It requires thought, maybe even Confucius-style pondering. Deep thought on a mountain in China for years.”

      “No, it doesn’t,” she said. “It’s either yes or no.”

      He stared at her, his mouth drying out. No, his mind said, I could not wait until a wedding to have you, if you’d been my girl. I would have had you before the wedding, after the wedding and maybe during the wedding. I definitely would never have let you out of my sight.

      But yes, his more intelligent side argued. If that’s what it took, I would wait.

      He gulped. “This is one of those Gordian knot, only-the-Sphinx-knows kinds of questions. It has moral implications, and superhuman qualities involved.” Was that sweat he felt on his brow, warming under his hat? He sensed that his answer meant a lot to her; she was trying to figure out how much a man would sacrifice for love. She wanted to know if any man loved deeply enough to wait.

      He thought he felt a seam split in his jeans underneath his zipper. “Truthfully,” he said, his voice tight, “I don’t think I can answer your question. I’m sorry.”

      She nodded. “It’s all right.”

      He’d failed. He had not sounded wise, intriguing or even honest. The answer was no. He could not wait. He wouldn’t sleep around on his woman, but he certainly would not sleep without her, either. And that was just the way it was. When he met the woman for him, he was going to satisfy her so much she never thought twice about whether loving him was the right thing to do.

      Holly’s gaze wandered over his face. There was something between them, a flash of interest neither of them was sure about.

      “Listen,” he said, “I’m going to be real honest with you.”

      “Shoot, cowboy.”

      “All right. I wouldn’t wait. Not one day,