Cathy Thacker - Plain Jane's Secret Life

Hannah felt herself flushing as he cupped her face. Right or wrong, who cared, when it felt so darn good….

Dylan had started this on impulse. Mostly as a test. Instead, the delectable Hannah Reid kissed as if she was all of sixteen, tentativeness turning to enthusiasm, shy reserve to passion. And it was that mixture of innocence and ardor that was nearly his undoing. It had been so long since he’d felt anything genuine or spent time with anyone this complicated and challenging. And he needed that, he realized. Needed this…unbridled passion.

Unfortunately, because of his suspicions about Hannah, he couldn’t give in to it. At least not yet.

Hearts pounding, regrets already forming—on both sides—they drew apart. Hannah looked at him as if she wanted to simultaneously kiss him and smack him for his audacity.

He knew how she felt.

He wanted to kiss her and smack himself, too….

Dear Reader,

It’s a well-known fact. Eavesdropping on other people’s conversations is not something any of us should be doing deliberately.

But suppose you accidentally stumbled across a family member and a dear friend about to make the biggest mistake of their lives—one that could have ramifications for years to come. Do you stand by and do nothing and live forevermore with the knowledge that you could have prevented tons of heartache, had you only dared to act? Or risk their ire and get involved up to your chin in whatever’s going on?

In Plain Jane’s Secret Life, that’s the dilemma presented to Dylan Hart on the night of his sister Janey’s wedding when he sees his brother Cal and old friend Hannah Reid in a top-secret rendezvous at The Wedding Inn. Dylan has never been one to meddle in other people’s “risky business.” But this time he can’t help getting involved. Even if circumstances—and the beautiful tomboy’s suspicions—demand he do it ever so discreetly…

Meanwhile, talented mechanic Hannah Reid isn’t sure what’s come over Dylan Hart. She knows the sexy TV sportscaster is secretly weathering his own personal crisis—and she’s agreed to help him emerge as victorious as ever—but that doesn’t explain his sudden, very intense interest in her. Were the two of them falling in love at long last? Or was there something else, something much more curious, going on…?

I hope you have as much fun reading this next book in THE BRIDES OF HOLLY SPRINGS series as I had writing it! And please do visit my Web site www.cathygillenthacker.com for information on my books.

Best wishes,

Cathy Gillen Thacker

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

“Unbelievable,” Hannah Reid muttered to herself as she watched Dylan Hart saunter out of the Raleigh-Durham airport terminal, full entourage in tow. His sister Janey’s wedding was in less than an hour, and the handsome TV sportscaster was stopping to sign autographs and shake hands. Okay, so the autographs were to beaming kids, the handshakes to their parents and the two airport security men walking beside Dylan. But still, Hannah fumed as Dylan scanned the area and finally strode quickly over to the Classic Car Auto Repair van she had idling at the passenger pick-up lane.

“Where’s the Bentley?” Dylan asked, opening the rear door and climbing inside.

Irked that he was treating her more like a chauffeur than an old family friend, Hannah pulled out into the traffic exiting the airport. The least he could have done was issue a personal greeting. If not climb in the front and ride shotgun beside her. “Back in Holly Springs. It’s being used to transport the bride and groom to and from the ceremony. Speaking of which—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m running late,” Dylan acknowledged cheerfully. “But so from the looks of things are you. Unless you plan to participate in the nuptials with grease on your face?”

Hannah touched her hand to her cheek and then rubbed her soiled fingertips on the leg of her denim overalls. Damn. She couldn’t believe she had done that again….

“Not to worry.” Dylan caught Hannah’s eye in the rearview mirror and winked. “I won’t tell anyone where you’ve been.”

“Har de har har.” With effort, Hannah kept her eyes on the road. She did not need to be noticing how much more handsome Dylan Hart seemed to get every time she saw him. Just because he was super well put together—even today he had traveled in a sleekly attractive business suit and tie—and looked mouthwateringly handsome on the television screen—did not mean she had to go all gaga over him, too.

So what if he had bedroom eyes, a mesmerizingly sexy smile and dimples cute enough to make her sigh out loud? Or expertly cut sandy-brown hair, glowing golden skin and crinkly laugh lines at the corners of his sable-brown eyes? He also had the exceedingly stubborn Hart jaw, and the personality that went with it. Plus a way of standing back and merely observing life, which she found extremely irritating.

“Where have you been?” Dylan continued conversationally as he moved around in the back seat, giving her repeated glimpses of his broad shoulders and sturdy compact body in the rearview mirror.

“Emergency call, working on a vintage Jag,” Hannah muttered over the rustle of clothing being pulled out of a carry-on garment bag. One of his masculine, nicely manicured hands accidentally brushed the side of her face. What was he doing back there?

More rustling as Dylan sat back slightly and shrugged out of his suit jacket and tie. “Today?”

Hannah knew what he was thinking—she was in this wedding, too. “I had time,” Hannah said deferentially while Dylan pulled a shaver out of an expensive leather toiletries bag and began running it over his jaw. “Or I thought I did.” She spoke above the buzzing noise of the razor and scowled. “Until your flight was late.” Now they were all off schedule. And she would have even less time to put herself together before walking down the aisle—on Dylan Hart’s arm!

“Weather delay.” Dylan shrugged. He slapped on some deliciously enticing aftershave, moved his head toward the window and peered out at the afternoon sky. “Looks like it’s clearing up here, though.”

“Finally,” Hannah sighed in relief, taking the turn-off to Holly Springs. “After days of rain.”

Was that her imagination or was she hearing him undress? “Do you have your seat belt on?” she asked with a frown, telling herself what she was imagining could not be so.

Dylan chuckled and continued to move around behind her on the vinyl seat, much more freely than he should have. “Ah—not at the moment, no.”

He sounded distracted.

So was she.

Aware her heartbeat was accelerating and her imagination was soaring even more wildly out of control, Hannah gripped the steering wheel even tighter. She tried not to think about the way her skin had tingled when he had accidentally brushed her face. Hannah reminded primly, “We’re on the highway, Dylan!”

Safety, however, seemed the least of his concerns. Dylan moved around all the more. Out of her peripheral vision, Hannah saw the shirt he had been wearing whip past the back of her head and the starched white tuxedo shirt come off its hanger.