Blind-Date Bride

“Aye, aye, captain.”

Bree caught an impression of a strong-featured teenager—a shock of dark hair and mocking deep blue eyes—before she plopped onto the seat. Max remained at her side, riveting her attention, filling her senses: the crisp scent of the snowy night, the dark hint of a five-o’clock shadow on his strong jaw, the vibration of his voice and the heat radiating off him as he leaned close.

Stop noticing, Bree, she instructed, but did she comply? Impossible.

“Brianna, meet Marcus. Kid, you be nice to the lady until I get back.”

“We’re still going for pizza, aren’t we?” The teenager looked alarmed.

“Food. It’s all he thinks about.” Max shook his head, winked at her and closed the door.

Warmth cradled her as the heater blasted over her face. As she struggled with her helmet straps and snow tumbled onto her lap, onto the seat, onto the floor. She shivered. Apparently she hadn’t realized she was a walking, talking, biking human icicle until Max had stepped away from her. Proof that she was way too hung up on the man.

Try a little dignity, huh? She blushed, realizing the brother was watching her. He was a big kid, wide-set the way Max was, and sharp-eyed. He hadn’t missed a thing.

“He’s not bad. Wanna go to eat with us? We’re gettin’ pizza.”

The back door of the crew cab swung open. “No, kid, she probably doesn’t want to get pizza with us. You don’t have to feel obligated, Bree.”

“Oh, I don’t—”

Marcus piped in. “Did you eat yet?”

“Well, no I—”

“Then you should come with us.” The kid grinned into the rearview mirror, as if he thought himself pretty smart. “The lady gets to pick the pizza toppings.”

“You don’t have to say yes, Brianna.” Max snapped his seat belt into place. “You might have something better to do with your sister.”

“Actually, I’m hanging out until she’s done working to get a ride home.” She twisted in the seat, peering over the headrest at him.

“You aren’t saying no?” He wanted to be sure he got that right.

“I’m not saying no. It’s tempting.” She settled back against the seat as the truck ambled through the intersection. “But I have a fondness for pepperoni.”

Now he had to like her. He had a weakness for pepperoni—and nothing else. “How much longer do you have to go car-less?”

“The insurance company says they will issue a check next week, but you know how that goes.”

“Do I.” He buckled in but couldn’t relax. He felt on edge, but not in a bad way. Brianna was the reason. Everything about her drew him in, from the melting snow glistening like diamonds in her golden hair, to her sweet lilac scent, to the sound of her whispering sigh as she held her hands up to the heater vent, as if grateful.