Belonging to Bandera Read Free Page A

bristled. “Not yours.”
    “Lovely,” Bandera said. “We’ve met once and he likes me.”
    Holly shook her head. “He’s generally personality-impaired. We love him anyway.”
    “Probably because you don’t see each other often. But I’ll try to remember his dysfunction.” He stared at the motorcycle. “Nice machine.”
    “It’s my baby,” Mike said mournfully. “But moody, I’ll admit.”
    Bandera shook his head. “Load it into the back of the truck. We’ll give you a lift to the nearest town with a bike shop.”
    Mike scratched his neck. “I guess I’ll have to take you up on that.”
    “Oh, good,” Holly said. “This will be fun.”
    Bandera wondered. Mason wasn’t inclined to be anything but superstitious, Mike was mourning his bike, Holly wanted to be kissed by a cowboy, and Bandera figured there had to be very little chance of that happening.
    But he was going to keep a close eye on her. He did not like pain, especially where a woman was involved.
    Holly went to the truck and slid in the back of the double cab next to Mason, before Bandera could help Mike get the Harley loaded. Mason looked petrified, and Bandera wondered if it would be too obvious if he asked his brother to drive so he could sit in back with Holly.
    Yeah. Too obvious.
    Sighing, he got in the truck. “Off we go,” he said. “Fun, fun, fun.”
     
    H OLLY TRIED HARD not to watch as Bandera drove. Her gaze kept going to the rearview mirror, whereshe could see his eyes shaded by his hat. They were dark and mysterious, which she found appealing.
    Her ex of a few hours had been blond and much thinner than Bandera Jefferson. Bandera was a very big, broad-shouldered man. Strength radiated from him, even from the sun lines around his eyes. She liked his squarish jaw and the way he looked at her like she was some curvy siren.
    She could see her garter peeking out of the pocket of his denim western shirt. Why she had thrown it, she really couldn’t say. Until today, impulsive gestures weren’t her thing.
    The garter had been stuck in her purse hastily as she’d grabbed things and left the church.
    She’d only had time to scribble a short note for her mother and father, telling them that she was sorry and that she loved them. After guilt had hit her—she was leaving them to clean up the mess—she’d known in the next instant her mother would applaud her, her sister would be proud, and Daddy, well, Dad might just decide to put some sense into her ex.
    She’d not written the real reason she was leaving. Her ex really wasn’t up to Henshaw family wrath.
    Some wedding planner I turned out to be, she thought.
    But no, the wedding would have been beautiful. Everything had been just right.
    It was groom-picking she obviously needed help with.
    Silence descended over the truck as the four occupants wondered what to say to each other. Bandera’s gaze met hers, and they both gazed quickly in opposite directions.
    She glanced at Mason. His eyes were closed, but his jaw was tense. Then she looked at Bandera and found him watching her in the mirror again.
    “Guess we interrupted your plans,” she said.
    “Somewhat. We didn’t have a set schedule.”
    “I did.” She looked at her French manicured nails. “But I’m changing course.”
    “Sounds like the best thing to do right now. How come you weren’t at the wedding?” he asked Mike.
    “I was headed there when I got the call that it was called off. Actually, I got about ten calls.”
    “How?” Holly asked, surprised. “I didn’t tell anyone but you that I was leaving.”
    “Your mother called my mother, who called me. Then your mother called me. Then your father. Then your ex-fiancé called me.”
    “He did? They did? Why didn’t you tell me all this?” She noticed Bandera was listening with rapt attention, though trying to appear that he wasn’t.
    “Because you surprised me when I picked you up and you were with these guys. I thought you might have gotten yourself