by Cat Johnson
His sweet words had Emma getting choked up. “You’re not supposed to see me until the ceremony starts. It’s bad luck.” Even so, she grasped his fingers in hers with no intention of letting go.
“I’m so late, the ceremony is starting about now, isn’t it? I think we found a loophole in that tradition. Besides, I don’t need luck.” He smiled. “I have you. That’s all I’ll ever need.”
“Please stop saying such sweet things. You’re making me cry.” Emma looked up at the sky and ran the tips of one finger beneath her lower lashes, wiping at the moisture there.
He laughed and drew her against him. “Don’t worry about that happening during the ceremony, because I tried all morning to write vows and I failed miserably.”
“It’s all right. I failed pretty badly with my vows, too. I even asked Becca with her doctorate in English to help, but nothing felt . . .” She shook her head as the right word eluded her.
“Nothing felt right.”
Emma nodded when Logan finished her sentence. “Exactly. Do you want to go with the traditional vows?”
“Yes, please.” The gratitude in Logan’s voice had Emma smiling as he leaned his forehead against hers. “I love you so much. You’re my light. My world.”
Those were pretty good words for a man who claimed to have none. She’d be sobbing soon if he didn’t stop being so sweet. “Can we go get married now?”
“I want nothing more. Well, maybe one thing more, but that’s for later.” Logan ran his hands down her back and pulled her closer.
She saw the heat darken his eyes and realized just one lifetime might not be enough with this man, but it would be a good start.
Read on for a peek at Cat Johnson’s next
Oklahoma Nights cowboy romance,
Three Weeks with a Bull Rider, coming next April.
With a huff, Tara spun on the heel of her cowboy boot, bound for the building. She stepped from behind her car—and directly into the path of a truck going way too fast for a parking lot. It skidded to a stop as she leapt back, and then pulled into the empty spot next to her car.
The driver’s side door opened and that’s when Tara recognized both the truck and the driver.
Jace Mills. That figured. Chief idiot and number one annoyance from among her brother’s roster of friends, and now he’d nearly run her over. “Jeez, Jace. You almost killed me. Slow the fuck down.”
“You kiss your mama with that mouth, Tara?” Jace raised one sandy brow high above his blue eyes. “And you stepped right out in front of me. Look where you’re going from now on.”
Tara clenched her jaw and tried to control the string of obscenities she’d love to let loose on him.
“I was distracted, but you should still be more careful. There are families walking around here with kids and stuff.” She frowned at the empty cab of Jace’s truck. “Tuck’s not with you.”
“That is a very good observation.”
She rolled her eyes in frustration. “Why isn’t he?”
Couldn’t this man cut her even one little break? Every tiny piece of information she got out of him was a struggle.
“That is a very good question.” Jace grinned.
“Do you have an answer?”
“I do, and it’s a doozey. Wanna hear?” He waggled his brows.
“Dammit—yes, Jace. I wanna hear.” Tara would need dental work from gritting her teeth if she continued this conversation with this obnoxious, frustrating, annoying man who made her want to scream.
A wide grin stretched across Jace’s lips. “Tuck’s at a wine tasting with Becca, his BFF Logan, and Logan’s wife.”
Tara’s gut twisted at hearing Logan’s name. Having Jace mention Logan in the same breath as his new wife made it even worse. She’d loved Logan for as long as she could remember, and Becca’s sister had swooped in and stolen him from her. She swallowed away the bitter taste in the back of her throat, nauseated all over again by the memories of her last conversation with Logan.
It had been on the day of his wedding. He’d told Tara he’d never loved her and never would. That he loved Emma. But she needed to focus on the situation at hand and not her broken heart. Tuck’s sudden interest in wine over rodeo left Tara stuck without a ride.
“Crap. I needed Tuck here tonight.”
“We’re going to have to talk about your potty mouth, young lady.” Jace crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the truck. “But before we do, why did you need Tuck here? And come to think of it, why are you here?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m working with the sports medicine team to fulfill my internship requirement for graduation.”
“Sports medicine? That’s what you’re going to school for?” Jace frowned. “Hmm. I thought it was veterinary studies.”
“You’re so observant.” Tara rolled her eyes.
Jace’s only response was to lift one shoulder in a shrug. Unfortunately, as much of an idiot as Jace was, it looked like he was also her only hope for a ride to Stillwater, where she could crash for the night at Tuck and Becca’s place.
Tara eyed his truck. “Can you tow a car with that thing?”
He hooked a thumb at his truck. “This thing? Tow a car? Uh, yeah. I could tow a tractor trailer if I had to. Why?”
“My car is dead.” She tilted her head in the direction of the piece of crap behind her. “One of the stock contractors took a look at it for me and suggested I tow it to the local scrap yard and junk it.”
Jace eyed the vehicle and let out a long slow whistle. “That bad, huh?”
“Apparently. And then, I also kind of need a ride to Tuck’s place.” She’d work on her brother’s sympathies when she got to Stillwater. Maybe she could convince Tuck to loan her his truck for the next few weeks.
It’s not like he needed it. He and Becca both worked at the same damn place. They should carpool. Save the environment. Reduce their carbon footprint and all that good stuff.
A smug smirk appeared on Jace’s face. “So what you’re saying is you need my help.”
“Forget about it. I’ll find another ride.” Tara let out a huff. She’d just keep calling Tuck until he answered.
“Stop pouting. Jeez, you’re such a child.”
Gasping at the worst insult he could have thrown at her, Tara had no words except to deny it. “I am not a child. You’re a—”
“Tara, if you’d shut up one damn minute and listen, you’d hear I’m saying okay. I’ll help you. I’ll take a look at your car and if it doesn’t look fixable, I’ll tow it to the scrapyard and drive you back to Stillwater.”
This man was so infuriating, she’d love to plant the toe of her cowboy boot right where the sun didn’t shine, but he was willing to help so she’d have to play nice. “And what would I have to give you in exchange? I’m warning you. I’ve got no money, not even to chip in for gas. Seriously, like none. I spent it all on that piece of shit car.”
Jace scowled. “I don’t need your money. I have plenty of my own for gas, thank you.”
She didn’t trust Jace as far as she could throw him. He wouldn’t do her a favor for nothing. He must have some ulterior motive. “Then what do you want?”
“Hmm, let’s see. What do I want?” Jace stared up at the sky and tapped one forefinger to his chin. “I know. You have to be nice to me. No name calling. No smart ass comments. None of your usual shit. Think you can do that?”
Not likely. “I don’t know. For how long?”
“Until we get to Stillwater. Starting now.”
“How about starting the moment we get inside the arena, until we get in your truck to start the drive to Stillwater?”
“You’re unbelievable.” Laughing, Jace shook his head. “All right. It’s a deal.”
Jace extended one big, rough hand and, though she’d never willingly touched him before, Tara shook it to seal the deal on this unholy alliance.
One day, far in the future when Tara had a successful career and a hap
py marriage, she’d look back at this time in her life. At how she’d had her heart broken by the only man she’d ever loved, and she’d survived, become a stronger woman because of it. How, stranded in Shawnee during week one of her internship, she’d hitched a ride with the devil. And how, being the mature person she knew herself to be, she’d even been nice to him for one whole night . . . God help her.
BRAVA BOOKS are published by
Copyright © 2013 Cat Johnson
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ISBN: 978-0-7582-8540-9
First Electronic Edition: October 2013
ISBN-13: 978-0-7582-8541-6
ISBN-10: 0-7582-8541-8