The Bride, The Trucker And The Great Escape. Suzanne McMinn

mean, I don’t know.” Andie twisted her hands in her lap. “I guess they might call the police,” she finally admitted.

      “Great! Exactly who are they, anyway?” Troy’s knuckles tightened as he gripped the steering wheel.

      “My family. My fiancé.” Andie scrunched farther into the corner. “Of course, they might not do anything at all,” she offered.

      “They might not do anything at all,” Troy repeated tightly. “Now, how likely is that?”

      Andie swallowed. “Um, not very, I guess,” she said finally. Despite all the problems she’d had with her parents, she didn’t really believe they would rest if they thought she’d been abducted. Thinking of them worrying about that scenario washed her with guilt. She’d just wanted to get away. She’d never meant to make anyone think something terrible might have happened to her.

      Troy regarded her in irritation. “Wonderful! So, let’s just recap, okay? My truck was parked in full view of the world, smack-dab in front of the church right when you disappeared. And with all the people who came pouring out of the building, what are the chances none of them took note of this?”

      Andie paled. He had a point. If her parents did think she’d been kidnapped, if they hired a private investigator or brought in the authorities, there was a slim possibility they might eventually track Troy down—

      “Maybe I should, uh, make a phone call,” Andie suggested in a small voice. “I don’t want to make any trouble for you.” Troy’s eyebrows practically lifted right off his face, but Andie ignored his incredulous expression. “And I don’t want to cause my family a lot of unnecessary stress.”

      “Sure. Fine. No problem,” Troy grumbled darkly. He nodded toward a billboard advertising a truck stop ahead. “It’ll just be my third stop and I haven’t even gone thirty miles, but don’t worry.”

      Andie was afraid to say anything for fear he’d change his mind.

      Troy went on. “You’re calling whoever you have to call, and you’re telling them you’ve gone off of your own free will.” He cut out each word precisely. “I don’t want anyone coming after you and getting in the way of my keeping my schedule.”

      Andie nodded obediently, relief rolling over her. He was letting her go with him!

      There was no sound for the next few miles but the steady hum of the truck. She took in her surroundings. She’d never been in an eighteen-wheeler before, and she was amazed at its comfort.

      The roomy cab’s big seats were beige leather, contrasting with the tractor-trailer’s dark blue exterior. Overhead was a tape deck and radio, with a CB. Behind her, she noticed a curtained-off area and guessed it contained some sort of sleeping quarters.

      Turning her attention to the truck’s driver, Andie watched Troy’s profile, noticing the way the sun glinted in the golden lights of his hair, the way his eyes crinkled against the glare on the road. She noted the tiny bump that kept his nose from being quite straight, the small scar right above his lip. He was a good-looking man. Not perfect. But more sexy than if he had been perfect.

      An odd flutter awoke inside her. She remembered the way he’d pulled her away from that speeding car, the way his arms had closed around her waist, the way his embrace had somehow felt right and safe.

      She knew he was frustrated with the way she’d upended his day, but he’d saved her life—and he was letting her go with him to California. He had a tender heart that he couldn’t quite hide, though she got the idea he wanted to for some reason.

      Some reason that she’d probably never know, she reminded herself. And she didn’t have any business wondering about it.

      She finally chanced a comment. “Thanks for letting me ride with you.” She cast him a smile of genuine appreciation.

      Troy shrugged. Her smile made him feel soft inside, and he hated that. Why did she have this effect on him? Besides, he didn’t want her thanks. Both of them were liable to live to regret this little alliance.

      In fact, he was regretting it already.

      “Don’t thank me yet,” he said with forced coolness. “A long haul’s no picnic.”

      He pulled off the highway and into the parking lot of a busy, sprawling truck stop. The diamond earrings rolled off the dash and onto the floor as he made the turn.

      Andie bent down and scooped them up. “Here,” she insisted, handing them to Troy after he’d parked. “I want you to take these.”

      “I don’t want your jewelry.”

      “And I don’t want charity. I want to pay my own way. I’ll repay you for my expenses later, and you can give me back the earrings. Deal?”

      Troy rolled his eyes. He stuck out his hand and Andie dropped the earrings into his cupped palm. “Fine,” he said. He stuffed them into his pocket.

      He shoved open the cab door and jumped out, grabbing Dog’s leash off the dash as he went. Dog bounded out after him. Attaching the leash onto the animal’s collar, Troy looped it around the cab step and secured it with a snap.

      After removing her headband with its attached veil—which was starting to pinch her head—Andie deposited it on the seat and pushed open the door on her side. She noticed for the first time how genuinely high off the ground they rode. She’d been so panicky when she’d jumped into the truck in the first place, she’d practically flown up into it, not realizing how awkward it was.

      Troy appeared on the asphalt below. He hesitated just long enough before stretching out his arm that she knew he’d rather not help her but was too much of a gentleman not to.

      Andie slipped her fingers into his hold. His hand was big and warm and made her feel tingly all over.

      She stepped down, clutching at the long train of her gown with one hand while grasping Troy’s hand in the other. Once she found herself secure on terra firma, he released her instantly, and she felt unaccountably disappointed.

      Almost as if some part of her had wished he wouldn’t let go....

      Troy jerked his head toward a phone booth in front of the truck stop’s gas station. “Go make your call,” he said gruffly. Holding her hand had reminded him why he shouldn’t be touching her at all.

      He hadn’t wanted to let go, and that was definitely a bad thing. A real bad thing.

      Andie just stood there, staring at him.

      “Well?” he prodded.

      “I, uh, don’t have any money,” she said.

      Troy rolled his eyes. He poked his hand in his pocket and came up with a coin. Andie took it, and he followed her past the rows of big rigs, to the phone booth. Her small hips swung in time to her stride.

      By the time they reached the pay phone, Troy’s senses were in a sorry state.

      Whoever had decreed that white wedding gowns were maidenly and chaste sure hadn’t seen this one. The way Andie’s concoction of lace and satin melded to her slender form sent his pulse off the Richter scale. The off-the-shoulder gown clung to her back and waist, then slid temptingly off slender hips down to the ground in a froth of material. What that material hid was even more erotic, somehow, than what it revealed. He imagined her legs, long and shapely...soft and touchable...

      Troy swallowed hard. He leaned against the phone booth and glared out at the road, deciding that ignoring her for the next ten days might be his best option. If he could do it.

      Andie jabbed in the numbers to her parents’ home in Silver Spring, Maryland, a suburb of Washington, D.C. “Gretchen?” she said when the housekeeper answered.

      Gretchen immediately began a high-pitched babble. William and Lillian had already phoned the house, looking for their wayward daughter. They wanted to find her, talk sense to her, get her back to the church. Her father was furious,