Blind-Date Bride. Jillian Hart

home.”

      “I’m sorry.”

      “No biggie. I get rejected a lot.” He winked.

      “Me, too.” It felt okay to confess it and even better that they had this in common. “Dating is hard. That’s what no one tells you.”

      “And it doesn’t seem to get easier. I try not to take it personally.”

      “How can you not?” That’s exactly what she wanted to know. Her entire identity didn’t revolve around getting married. No, that wasn’t it at all. She had been evaluating her life lately, and she realized there was a lot that she wanted but didn’t have. Closeness, connection, her own family, security. She had a heart full of love to give. Why not try to find love and change her life for the better?

      She tugged his coat more closely around her, glad the shivering was easing. “When a date doesn’t want to see you again, even if you don’t like them, it feels personal.”

      “Tonight is the perfect example. Alice sounded nice enough, but she didn’t want to know me. That would take more than a thirty-second conversation. She rejected me because of what she wanted. She has no idea who I really am.”

      No, but I have an idea. Bree looked down at his capable hand covering hers. Her heart gave a little flutter. He was a nice guy. Who wouldn’t be looking for that? “Next you’re going to say Billy ditched meeting me because of his own shortcomings.”

      “That’s right. Everyone has them. It’s part of being human. I say it’s best to accept your own, that makes it a lot easier to accept other people’s.” His smile was part dream, part impossibility. “Now, tell me the truth. Are you feeling better?”

      “Much.” The quaking deep inside had calmed. The past was safely where it belonged and the memories buried. She withdrew her hand reluctantly from his and hopped to the ground. “I’m over the shock of seeing my car gone.”

      “What do you think you’re doing?”

      “I’m getting out of your truck so you can go on your way.”

      “If you think I’m going to leave you standing in the parking lot by yourself, you’re wrong.” He closed the door and leaned against it. “There’s a cruiser on its way. They’ll take your statement, you’ll sign the report and that’s it.”

      “Nothing scary about that. I’ll be fine.” She smiled shakily. “Great. Now you think I’m emotionally challenged.”

      “No, I don’t like to leave a lady by herself when it’s getting dark.”

      “My sister is five yards away. I’m not by myself.” She set her chin. She was fragile, but strong.

      At least that was his guess. She would have to be, to come back from the trauma she had. He had seen others who had gone through similar experiences and they had never found themselves again. He ached for them and likely for what lovely Brianna had gone through. The specifics were sketchy in his mind, since he’d gone on to other cases, but he remembered the string of burglaries that had grown more violent with each occurrence until three victims had been left dead and two others gravely injured. Violence happened, even in Montana.

      “I’ll stick around.” He couldn’t stop the pull of concern in his chest. “I want to make sure you have moral support if you need it.”

      “Thanks, but I don’t want to be a burden. I’ve got my sister, if I need her.”

      He remembered. The waitress who had served his dessert had been a duplicate of Brianna. Twins. He studied the woman standing in front of him, framed by the rosy light of the setting sun. The cinch of emotion in his chest tugged harder. Odd, since she was all wrong for him. Way too wrong for a broken-down soul like him.

      “Besides,” she was saying in a gentle alto, “you don’t want to hang around waiting for me to talk to the police. I’m sure a guy like you has a lot more exciting things to do.”

      “Sure. That’s me. Excitement.” Not. He got enough of that on the job. His pager buzzed, vibrating in his jeans pocket. He tugged it out not surprised to see that it was work calling. There was no rest for the weary and never for a detective. He would call in a little bit. He fastened his gaze on the woman with the wind scattering her long hair and with shadows on her face. First things first. He wasn’t going to leave until—

      A short burst of a siren shot out, and he looked up. It sure looked like trouble coming. Dobbs and Paulson, two buddies of his, pulled into the lot in an unmarked cruiser. He held up a hand, signaling them over.

      “The cavalry has arrived.” He wanted to stay, but she was no damsel in distress. She stood on her own feet, looking determined and only a little shaky.

      The cruiser pulled to a stop and the window zipped down, revealing Dobbs and his know-it-all grin. Max shook his head. He knew what his good buddy was thinking, so he spoke first. “This is Brianna. Her car turned up missing.”

      The door swung open. “Is that so? Well, Brianna, let’s take a report and see what we can do. We’ve had a lot of this kind of thing lately.”

      Max watched Brianna nod shyly at the officers. Her chin was set, but she was pale. She was struggling, but she didn’t want it to show, that was his guess. She looked achingly vulnerable as she wrapped her arms around her middle and went to answer Dobbs’s questions. He’d pulled his clipboard out of the car and was taking information. Max wasn’t surprised to learn she worked at the bakery, since she was sugar and sweetness.

      Remembering his page, he called in. Standing in the crisp March wind as the sun slid ever downward, he shivered. Maybe it was the damp air, or maybe it was something else. Something he didn’t want to think about too hard. The call connected, the line rang and he waited, unable to rip his attention away from Brianna. The wind ruffled the rich light gold of her hair, gently tossing it against her silken face. With the light shimmering over her in the last long moments before the sun vanished, she looked like a fairy-tale princess, something too good to be real and impossible to believe in.

      A voice came on the line—Fredericks. There was a shooting at the far end of town. Probably drug related. He pocketed the phone, conflicted. He had to leave. He didn’t want to. Wasn’t that always the way? The job came first. He liked what he did, and he had never found himself hesitating on answering a call. He had work, but what was he doing? Strolling toward the woman who took the pen Dobbs had offered her and signed her name with a flourish on the bottom of the clipboard.

      He jammed his hands into his pockets and closed the short distance between them. “Do you need a ride, Brianna? I’d be happy to take you home.”

      Out of the corner of his eye he caught Dobbs’s wide grin and a wink as he backed away to the cruiser. Apparently both uniforms were taking interest in the interaction. Great. Just what he needed, more ribbing from a bunch of married guys.

      “I’ll have my sister take me home. She gets off in a little while.” She padded toward him, moving like poetry with the last of the day’s light pearling her perfect face.

      He didn’t like that this was ending. He couldn’t begin to explain why. He took a step toward her, just one step, that was all. Maybe it was best that he held his ground. “I guess this is goodbye.”

      “Yes.” She shrugged out of his jacket with graceful movements and handed him the garment. “Here’s hoping we both have better luck on our next blind dates.”

      “Sure.” It was all he could think to say. Max Decker, the man who had a comeback for any occasion, stood speechless as she cast him one last look. Her gaze met his like a bolt of electricity and it jarred through his system, leaving him rooted to the spot.

      Amazing. He watched as she glided away, unaware of what she’d done to him with one single glance. His heart had stopped beating. The blood stalled in his veins. He struggled for air as she walked away with her gentle, easy gait, her sleek straight hair brushing her shoulder blades with each step.

      Why