Single Dad, Nurse Bride. Lynne Marshall
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for the doorhandle. “Thanks for dinner,” she said, breathless. The wind practically blew the door open for her. She jumped out so fast that she caught her necklaces and broke a strand, sending beads flying all over the street. She didn’t stop to pick up any of them. It took both hands and all of her hundred-pounds-soaking-wet bodily strength to close the door.
Dane got out of the driver’s side, only to have Rikki raise her hand to wave goodnight. She slid inside her car faster than he could utter a sound of protest, and slammed the door.
After two false starts, while she refused to glance at him, her engine finally turned over, making a ragged metal and muffler song.
Speechless and confused, he slipped back inside his car, completely aware of the taste of her lips on his and her lingering herbal scent. He drove up the street, and watched through his rear-view mirror to make sure her car continued to run. She made an illegal U-turn in the middle of the road and drove off in the other direction.
He shook his head. Women!
The light changed to green. Something sparkly in the passenger bucket seat caught his attention. Damn, a reminder of the woman who’d managed to confuse him—a short strand of Rikki’s fluorescent blue beads.
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