Elizabeth Lane - Hometown Wedding

“Now, look, young lady…” Travis’s words evaporated like spit on a hot sidewalk as Nicole flashed into the King’s-X zone of the women’s rest room. He stood there fuming as he struggled to come to terms with the past two minutes of his life.

In college he had sat through classes in adolescent psychology and read more books on the subject than he cared to remember. In the early years, when he’d taught high-school math to support the ranch, he’d seen scores of young girls pass into womanhood. He certainly understood that females in their teens could be difficult.

But nothing had prepared him for the emotional bronco ride of dealing with his own daughter.

Jamming his Stetson onto his head, he turned and strode up the concourse, headed for the escalator and the baggage-claim area. One thing was certain. Miss Nicole Conroy was overdue for an attitude adjustment. Once they got safely home, setting her straight would be the first priority on his list.

The ride south, which he’d been looking forward to all day, suddenly loomed as a three-hour battle with a headstrong teenager. Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea, after all, to shanghai Eden Harper for the duration. At least, with Eden along, there’d be someone to serve as a buffer between—

Eden.

Travis swore under his breath as he realized the woman was nowhere in sight.

Halting in midstride, he turned around and scanned the length of the concourse. No Eden.

Maybe she’d already carried out her plan to take a cab to the bus station. Fine and dandy, Travis groused, growing more irritated by the minute. What had he expected? That she’d be waiting for him to grab her by the hair and drag her to the truck?

Loping back to the escalator, he caught a step for the downward ride. Below him, the baggage-claim enclosure bustled with activity as suitcases, duffels and boxes spun off the conveyors. Travis fumbled for Nicole’s claim check. Glancing out over the carousels, he suddenly caught sight of Eden’s sugar-blond head. She was at the far end of the floor, fidgeting impatiently with her briefcase as she waited for her bags. Probably anxious to make her getaway. Well, fine. He certainly had no right to stop her.

As the escalator glided downward, he conjured up an image of Eden waiting in the dingy bus station, then sitting up in a cramped seat next to some snoring matriarch while the bus made stops at Ephriam, at Manti, at Axtell, at Gunnison, at Centerfield…What the hell, it was her choice. Let her go.

As he stepped off the escalator, a glance in Eden’s direction told him she had spotted her luggage. She was moving toward the carousel, shifting her briefcase to her shoulder to free her hands. Don’t borrow more trouble, Travis’s brain cautioned. But his legs weren’t listening. Unbidden, they were moving fast, covering the floor in long loping strides that carried him to her side.

“Here!” he exclaimed, reaching in front of her for one of the matching charcoal gray suitcases. “At least let me haul these to the curb for you.”

Dismay flickered in Eden’s eyes, and Travis instantly wished he’d kept his distance. “Look,” he said, “I’m not planning to talk you out of taking the bus. In fact, it’s probably just as well that you don’t ride home with me.”

“I just don’t want to cause any more trouble—for either of us.” Her voice was frayed, like tightly strained silk. Its raw sexiness was a burr that irritated Travis to the snapping point.

“Fine, then. At least we understand—”

The words ended in a croak as he glanced up and saw Nicole coming down the escalator. She had taken off her sunglasses, and as she glided downward, her dark eyes twinkled impishly up at a blond, husky young man in a Utah State University T-shirt who shared the same step.

Travis battled the urge to grind his teeth. Nicole was saying something now, and the young hulk was grinning down at her—no, drooling was more like it. And he was no puppy, either. He looked to be at least nineteen, too damned old to be flirting with a fourteen-year-old child.

“Travis, are you all right?” Eden’s voice pricked the edge of his awareness. He turned on her in sudden desperation.

“Ride with us,” he rasped. “I’m not inviting you, Eden, I’m begging you. Otherwise, before we get home, I’m liable to strangle the little twit.”

“Daddy!” Nicole had spun off the bottom of the escalator, and, with a breezy wave to the hulk, came bouncing toward them with the verve of a half-grown shelty. Watching her, Travis groaned inwardly. How could a father broach the subject of wearing a decent bra to his daughter?

“Hey, you’re waiting in the wrong place,” she said. “My bags’ll be coming off on number three…” Her voice trailed off as her gaze flickered to Eden’s sleek gray Pullman dangling from Travis’s hand, and then to Eden herself, who was scrambling to retrieve the matching garment bag.

“Uh…hi.” Nicole’s voice quavered uncertainly.

Sensing her mistaken impression, Travis stepped in quickly. “Nicole, this is Miss Eden Harper, one of my former schoolmates. She just flew in from New York and we, uh, sort of bumped into each other on the concourse.”

“Oh.” Nicole’s sharp brown eyes inspected Eden up and down before her face relaxed into a flippant grin. “New York, huh? That’s cool.”

“I’m pleased to meet you, Nicole.” Eden extended a slightly nervous hand, which Nicole accepted with the jerky politeness of a marionette.

“Eden’s on her way to Monroe. I’ve offered her a ride, and I do believe she’s accepted.” Travis avoided Eden’s eyes. So what if he was railroading her? He was a desperate man.

“Cool.” Nicole was still sizing up Eden, weighing the possibilities. “Hey, that jacket kicks!” she said. “Did you buy it in New York?”

“Uh-huh. At Bloomingdale’s. On clearance, I’m afraid, but definitely Bloomingdale’s.” An intriguing spark danced in Eden’s light green eyes. “You know, with your coloring, I’ll bet this jacket would look great on you. Why don’t we find out?”

Nicole might have protested, but Eden was already shrugging out of the beige linen suit jacket. Travis blinked as Nicole dropped her tote bag and turned a submissive back, arms sliding into the proffered sleeves. Within seconds, she was modestly covered.

“What do you think?” She struck a model’s pose for Eden’s approval.

“Sensational!” Eden grinned. “Want to wear it home?”

“Hey, could I really?” Nicole angled her body this way and that, inspecting the lapels and pockets. “Bloomingdale’s, huh? Cool.”

“Come on, let’s cut the fashion show and round up the baggage,” Travis growled, shooting Eden a glance of unabashed gratitude. He’d half expected the woman to bolt or protest on the spot. Instead, she had smoothed things over with a deftness that left him stunned.

Avoiding his gaze, Eden turned swiftly away—but not before he’d caught a jarring glimpse of what the jacket had concealed. Eden’s sleeveless peach silk blouse skimmed a curvaceous chest that he’d certainly never noticed on Edna Rae Harper. Maybe it was those baggy sweaters she’d always worn to school. Travis cursed silently as he tore his eyes away from the shadowed outline of lace beneath the gossamer-thin fabric. It was a good thing Nicole would be along to sit between them in the pickup. Otherwise, he could be in serious trouble.

Nicole’s twin duffels were leaden. Travis slung one from each shoulder and, with Nicole and Eden managing the rest of the luggage, they trudged out of the elevator onto the third level of the parking terrace.

“There’s the truck!” Nicole bounded ahead, dragging Eden’s wheeled Pullman case behind her. Travis deliberately slowed his steps, hoping Eden would stay back with him.