“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Annelise Montjoy motored her Harley along what appeared
to be the town’s main street. This was Maverick Junction?
A blue Cadillac, surely old enough to be in a museum, was
parked nose-in to the curb. An incredibly ugly dog sat in
the front seat.
Thank God, this, the final destination of her cross-
country trip from Boston, was temporary. It looked like
the kind of place you ran away from, not toward. If luck
was on her side, she’d be out of here in a couple weeks
at the most.
And then a store door opened and her breath caught. Go,
Texas! Look at that cowboy. So different from any of the
men in her life. So…intriguing. She slowed to nearly a
standstill and watched as he swiped an arm across his
forehead, then dumped a grocery bag in the backseat of
the old Caddy.
Cracking open a bottle of water, he turned his head in
her direction. Her breath hitched as his gaze ran lazily
over her, her bike. Then he snagged a Styrofoam cup from
inside his car and filled it before setting it on the
blistering pavement for the dog waiting patiently beside
him.
Leaning against the faded fender, he thumbed back his
battered Stetson and chugged the rest of the water.
Twisting the cap back on, he tossed the bottle into the
recycling bin beside the grocer’s door.
Annelise pulled her bike into a parking space across the
street, deliberately turning her back on the stranger.
While his clothes might have been stereotypical cowboy—
worn jeans, a faded T-shirt, cowboy boots, and hat—he
took everything from simmer to boiling point. The jeans
hugged long legs, while the shirt stretched taut across
his muscled chest. There was something very alluring
about him and that surprised her. He wasn’t the kind of
man she was usually drawn to.
He shouldn’t appeal to her.
He did.
Not so much as a breeze stirred. The flag on the post
office hung limp, and the cheerful red, white, and blue
balloons someone had hung outside a beauty salon drooped
listlessly.
Unable to stop herself, she peeked in the bike’s rearview
mirror. Cowboy was bent over, talking to the dog. Quite a
view, but she wasn’t here to admire a fine jean-clad
butt. She needed something cold to drink and something
light to eat. Then she’d go in search of Dottie Willis
and the apartment she’d rented over the Internet.
Maverick Junction, Texas. Annelise wished she was driving
through, wished she could view it as simply a spot on the
map where she’d stopped for lunch one summer day.
Well, she’d just have to work fast.
But before she’d even taken two steps, her cell rang. She
checked caller ID, blew out a huge sigh, and dutifully
answered.
“Annelise, where are you? When are you coming home?” Her
mother’s voice sounded strained.
“Don’t worry, Mom. Are you and Dad okay?”
“Come home.”
“I can’t.”