The Bull Rider's Plan. Jeannie Watt
a big traveling family. And like all families, there were members you could depend on and those you avoided.
“So far, so good, wouldn’t you say?” Em pulled onto the freeway and eased in behind a truck and Jess made a conscious effort to relax his tense muscles. He’d never ridden with Em before and had no idea whether she was a decent driver or not. As she’d said, so far, so good. She glanced over at him, waiting for a response to her chit-chatty question.
“Would have been better if I’d walked away with the big money, but all in all not bad.” He shifted the leg that Bill had squeezed against the chute. “I could have done without explaining that I wasn’t married.” Emma only shrugged, again without looking at him. “Spread any more rumors about us before we pulled out?” She gave him a curious sidelong glance and he explained, “Just trying to ascertain what I might be up against next stop.”
“No rumors. But I did tell Benny to back off.”
So had he. Between the two of them, the guy should have gotten the message.
“Maybe you shouldn’t mess with Benny.”
“Maybe he shouldn’t mess with me.”
Jess smiled in spite of himself, then worked his way into a more comfortable position, propping a knee against the dashboard and folding his arms over his middle before closing his eyes. If he could get an hour of sleep, he could take over the driving.
* * *
JESS FELL ASLEEP almost instantly, which was something considering the fact that he’d been practically white-knuckled when she’d pulled onto the freeway. To him, she was still Len’s little sister, competent enough to help them rope and brand calves, but not ready for prime time in other arenas of life. Fine. It was a role she was comfortable with, the bothersome little sister, and more than that, Jess was comfortable with it.
He was not comfortable with them being pretend-married.
She gave a small snort as she recalled Benny’s face when she’d first told him, then glanced over to see if she’d disturbed Jess. He was out, dark eyelashes fanned over the tanned skin above his cheekbones. Her heart bumped a little. He really was good-looking. Maybe it was because she hadn’t been around him in well over a year that he seemed different. Or maybe she was looking at him differently. Whatever. She could kind of see what her friends saw—now that he was asleep and not telling her what she couldn’t do.
The road straightened out in front of her and traffic was light, so she chanced another glance, curious about why he seemed different. Maybe it was the fact that he’d matured and the angles of his face had become more chiseled, the hollows under his cheekbones more pronounced.
She eased her way around the only car in front of them for miles and then glanced back at Jess. His mouth, which she had to admit was a very fine mouth, was slightly open—and, a split second later, so were his eyes.
Em gave a start as her gaze slammed into his electric one.
“The road.” The words were clipped. Not very friendly.
She jerked her attention to the pavement—where’d it’d been one short second before she’d given in to temptation and went for that third look.
“I was just checking on you,” she said in a huffy voice.
“To see if I was breathing?”
“To see why you looked different.”
He frowned at her. “Different how?”
She kept both hands on the wheel, squeezing it more tightly than she needed to. “I don’t know. That was why I was looking.”
He sat up straighter.
“You can sleep, you know. It wasn’t as if I was staring dreamily at you rather than minding the road. You just happened to catch me midglance.”
“Ah.”
“And they were fast glances.” She demonstrated, exaggerating the speed of her head turns. “Like that.”
“Stop.”
She smiled a little and relaxed now that they were safely back in their roles, although she couldn’t say why the word safe had popped into her brain. “I think it’s because you’ve lost weight.”
She sensed that he’d gone still and risked his wrath by glancing over at him yet again. He wore a perplexed expression. “I don’t recall ever being particularly heavy.”
“In your face. You’ve lost the baby fat.”
He muttered something that sounded like a plea to a higher power, then slumped back into his seat. “I don’t know if I can sleep if you’re looking at me.”
“I won’t look. Promise.”
He let out a breath. Em fought with herself, then glanced over. His eyes were still open.
“That was a trap,” she said as she focused on the road.
“That was a test.”
“I guess you’re going to have to get used to me staring at you when you sleep if you’re going to take advantage of having another driver along.”
He let out a long breath and closed his eyes once again—Em knew because she looked. “Just...keep it between the lines, okay?”
“I will,” she said in a resigned voice. “And maybe, for once, you can have some faith in me.”
Have some faith in her.
When didn’t he have faith in her?
Like...never.
“Would music bother you?”
Jess kept his eyes closed and readjusted his arms over his chest as he said, “Not if it’s low.”
“Low it will be.”
A second later the last CD he’d been listening to came on and Em turned the volume down. He shifted in his seat yet again and did his best to lose himself in the music and not think about his driver. Impossible. Not when that floral fragrance filled the cab—and not in a bad way. Like Em, it was light and joyful. Em was usually happy—making the best of whatever situation she was in. Scrapping her way through life. True, she’d hit a couple of rough patches recently, but she soldiered on.
So why did she think that he didn’t have faith in her?
It wasn’t a lack of faith. That wasn’t why they, meaning he and Len, hadn’t let her pal along with them. It’d been sheer protectiveness.
That and the fact that she’d driven them crazy when she’d been younger, and the perception of the bothersome tagalong sister persisted.
Huh.
He fought the urge to open his eyes and study her, to see how she’d changed. Because she had. He’d noticed in the bar that she’d grown into her mouth and, what had once been almost comically oversize in her delicate face, was now perfect—nicely shaped, wide, but not too wide. Full. Kissable.
Kissable?
He shifted in his seat, hoped Em thought it was so that he could get more comfortable. Was kissable a word to use in regards to his best friend’s sister?
He cracked open an eyelid and thanked heaven that Em was concentrating on the road, as she was supposed to be. Her chin was slightly lifted, her eyes focused straight ahead, giving him an excellent view of her profile, lips and all. Even as he tried to tell himself that a mouth was a mouth and Em’s mouth was no more kissable than any other woman’s, his body stirred.
Oh, man.
This is Em. Len’s sister. Remember that.
So much for