Page 24 of Harrison Hyde and the Runaway Bride

She put a hand on his shoulder. He must not spendallhis time doing science. Not with such nice shoulders. “You’re doin’everything right, Harry.” She unlocked the van and opened the passenger door for him, waved her arm and said, “Care for a ride, kind sir?”

He smiled, though his heart wasn’t in it. “I would, thank you.” He got in.

Maria went around and got behind the wheel, while her passenger checked out the interior. The back of the van held medical supplies and equipment, a lot of it mounted to the walls in customized holders, shelves, and brackets. She felt her chin lift in pride as he perused it. “Nice van.”

“Thanks. It was a gift from my aunts and uncles when I got my degree.”

“That’s some gift.”

“They bought me the van. All the customizations were on me and my cousins, DIY style.” The key fob was attached to the strap of her handbag. She started the van and pulled to the edge of the road. Then she stopped the vehicle, looked at him, and said, “How about a little side journey?”

“To Bluebonnet Lane?” he asked.

She hoped she didn’t look too eager when she nodded.

CHAPTER FIVE

“Here we are.”

Harrison undid his seatbelt as Maria pulled into the driveway of a white, two-story farmhouse with black shutters. “This is gon’ be my house,” Maria said.

He glanced at the house briefly, before looking at her. She gazed at the place with love in her eyes. “It needs paint.” And indeed, the paint on the clapboards was peeling. “And window boxes full of flowers. And I’m for sure changin’ out those black shutters.”

“The sign says a sale’s pending.”

“That’s ’cause I told the realtor we were fixin’ to buy it right after the weddin’. Billy Bob could well afford it.” She looked down at the ground. “He said it would be an investment; he’d sell it for a profit once he’d convinced me to move.”

“Where to?” Harrison asked.

“Dallas. He has a place there. I told him I’d never leave Quinn. He said I’d change my mind, in time.”

He opened his mouth, closed it again.

“What?”

He shrugged and said, “That was never going to work. You know that now, right?”

“Well, yeah. I think I had an inklin’ before. The notion to call off the weddin’s been naggin’ at me for the past month. Maybe longer.”

She led him around to the back door, which was painted a deep woodsy green. “This door should be stained wood, I think. With pretty glass insets. And the shutters… I don’t know yet, but I’m thinkin’ a lighter color, maybe with cutouts.”

“Maybe match them to the green on the little hillside behind it.”

There was a padlock with a keypad on the door. She entered the code and opened it.

“I um… it’s not yours, yet, is it?”

“I’ve made Cat Shaw show it to me enough times that I know the code by heart. And she wouldn’t mind.” She nodded at the sign and the curly-haired blonde with a winning smile beside the words CAT SHAW REALTY. “I’m fixin’ to apply for the mortgage myself— no help from my family— soon as we get you back on track.”

She’d pulled her curls into a band, around one side. The only place they stayed put was where the hair band was. He had the dumbest urge to run his fingers through it. “Come on in.”

He followed her, trying not to stare at her denim-encased backside and staring at it anyway, into a light-yellow kitchen. There was fresh stain on the cupboards. Each cabinet and drawer had a white ceramic knob with tiny yellow roses. They looked new compared to the white-with-gold-swirls Formica countertop. “Someone redid the cabinets?” he said.

“Realtor suggested it to the owner, that and the fresh paint on the walls.” She caught him looking at her. They locked eyes and his throat went dry.

“It’s a beautiful place. It’ll look like it came right out of a storybook, when you finish up. You… kind of fit here.” His gazeheld hers, and there was a current that ran between them. He felt it tingling in the pit of his stomach.

“I feel like that, too.”

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