Blind-Date Bride. Jillian Hart

and from half a parking lot away, Max turned, tangled up with too many emotions to name.

      “Was that your date?” Paulson had retreated to the driver’s side of the car and was leaning on the edge of the roof, grinning knowingly. “She’s real pretty. Too bad it had to end like that.”

      Max shook his head, but he didn’t need to say a word. Dobbs was already answering.

      “She wasn’t Alice. It was my idea to set him up with Alice. So, what gives?”

      “The same old thing. The lady wasn’t looking to be a cop’s wife.” Who could blame her? He didn’t. “I gotta go. Got a shooting across town. You jokers try not to get into trouble out there tonight.”

      “You know us. We’re nothing but trouble.” Dobbs winked, but there was no smile in his eyes. Their work was like that. They could kid around all they wanted, what they did was serious. “See ya, Decker.”

      Max nodded once, waiting until the cruiser had rolled before he took one last look at the bakery. Brianna was at a table toward the back, and all he could see of her was the cascading length of her blond hair and the curve of her back. Emotion tugged within him and he closed it down.

      Time to go. He yanked open his truck door, realizing his coat was fisted in one hand. Brianna. He smelled her soft, sweet perfume on the garment, something gentle and innocent. Tenderness swept over him, tenderness he didn’t want to feel.

      Chapter Three

      “Are you sure you’re okay, Bree?”

      “Fine.” Sweat streaked down her spine, but other than that she was perfectly okay.

      As she waited for her sister to take one look around the bakery’s kitchen and make sure everything was in order and all appliances turned off, she reminded herself of how this night was different.

      The moon was big and round, casting plenty of light to chase away the shadows around the back door. They weren’t alone—all the other workers were waiting outside the door in the comforting glare of the security lights. It was March, not a hot summer night. Most of all, there was no gunman, no ricochet of bullets firing and no terror. She breathed in the fresh air, let the peace of the evening roll over her and faith reassure her.

      “Then let’s roll.” Brandi gave the door a tug.

      Glad to be leaving, Bree stepped into the back lot. There were goodbyes as the other two workers broke apart, heading off to their nearby cars. Everything was fine. There would be a day when she didn’t worry so much, or feel as if the other shoe was about to drop.

      “So that hunky guy is a detective, huh?” Brandi asked with just a tad too much of a smile.

      Oh, she so knew what her twin was up to. She was trying to distract her from the memories. Really. “Don’t start jumping to conclusions.”

      “Why not? He and that gorgeous woman he talked with never did wind up at the same table together. I happened to notice.” Brandi grinned as she sorted through her keys to unlock the passenger door of her battered little pickup. The poor thing had seen much better days ten years ago. “He could like you.”

      “You are a meddler, sister dear.”

      “I know.” Cheerfully, she opened the door and circled around to the driver’s side. “He seemed awfully nice. Manly, you know, as in solid, strong, mature.”

      “Oh, I know.” Did she! She could still feel the weight of his leather coat on her shoulders, warm from him and faintly pine scented. Nice. “He wasn’t interested in me.”

      “How can you tell?”

      “Uh, he didn’t ask for my last name or my number.” Not that she’d expected him to. She dropped onto the seat, slid her bag on the floor and banged the door shut. “This is the last time I’m going on a blind date.”

      “Be careful. You’ve said those words before.” Brandi turned over the ignition and gave the truck gas, hoping the engine would catch. It rolled over and over. “Blind dates aren’t so bad.”

      “How can you say that? They’re terrible. Look at tonight. Disaster.”

      “Sure, but it could have been worse.”

      “How, exactly?”

      “Uh, the building could have caught fire?” The engine finally caught and roughly idled. Brandi twisted in her seat to back out of the spot with a squeak of brakes and a whine from the transmission. “At least you met a nice guy. Okay, so he didn’t want to date you, but at least you know nice guys are out there.”

      “As rare as hen’s teeth, but they exist.” Bree frowned, remembering how Max had made her feel. Small and dainty and utterly feminine, and incredibly, wonderfully safe. That was exactly how the right man ought to affect her.

      Now, she simply had to find the right man for her. No easy task. “I mean it, I’m done with blind dates. Notice how you don’t go on any?”

      “Sure, because I’m not looking for Mr. Right. Believe me, I’m in no hurry to find out he doesn’t exist.”

      Yikes, that was exactly what she was afraid of down deep. Beneath her optimistic thinking and her stubborn faith, that in the end, there would be no Mr. Right and no happiness. She sighed, pushing away the dark shadows from her childhood. “Although a girl has to have hope.”

      “Yes, and you keep holding on to it,” her sister agreed. “And I will try to somehow. Despite my totally pessimistic attitude.”

      “Hey, careful. That’s an attitude I’m trying not to catch.”

      “Which is why I’m keeping my opinions to myself.”

      Bree grinned. She could always count on her sister to be supportive, even if she didn’t agree. Their family was broken and scattered, and she had half brothers and half sisters she hadn’t seen in years. Mom had never been exactly what you could call reliable, and Dad, well, he’d been in and out of prison most of her life. Not exactly model parents or the kind a girl could ever depend on, which made her sister a double blessing.

      The lights of Bozeman flashed by as they drove along in companionable silence. Despite the theft of her car and her no-show date, the evening didn’t feel like a loss. She smiled, snuggled safely into the car’s bucket seat, thinking about Max. Not that she would ever see him again—what were the chances?—but it didn’t hurt to hold the memory of meeting him close, like her own little handful of a dream.

      The headlights spotlighted their rented duplex, and the truck squeaked to a stop on the concrete driveway. As they pulled into the carport, reality set in. They were home. Tonight she had a lot to be thankful for—that the only thing taken from her was her car. Tomorrow there would be the insurance agent to call and transportation to figure out.

      But as she opened the car door, she thought of Max and how he had offered her his coat. Memories of his kindness warmed her as she followed her sister inside, where the heater clicked on and she felt safe.

      It was well past midnight, and he still couldn’t get the young woman out of his mind. Max hit the garage door button, sorting through his keys while the door cranked shut. He unlocked his door, thinking of how she had looked standing alone in the light of sunset with his coat too big on her delicate frame.

      Bree was an image of goodness and loveliness he wanted to believe in. But could he? He didn’t like to admit it, but he’d lost his ability to believe in people. He was struggling to believe in a lot of things. The lock tumbled, he opened the door and stalked into his kitchen.

      A single light over the sink shone, casting an amber glow across the marble countertops. Looked like his kid brother, whom he was raising, had done the dishes and cleaned up. Good kid. Marcus was in bed asleep, and the place felt empty.

      The town house was something he’d picked up because it beat paying rent. He’d been here nine months and had