Bride Wanted

Destiny wished she could control her traitorous eyes, but the guy in the garage had finally faced her and she was, quite frankly, speechless.

The older man cleared his throat. “I’m Bo Taylor, by the way. The lady who just walked into the station is my wife, Maura. Assuming you’re listening to my rambling and all.”

Destiny blushed again. She couldn’t remember the last time she was so embarrassed. “I—I’m sorry. I don’t mean to...”

“Yeah, you do, but that’s okay. Every young lady from town comes here as often as possible.” Bo frowned as the nozzle clattered and the gas stopped pumping. “This isn’t full yet. Let me get her started back up.” He flipped the silver lever on the pump and the thing clicked to life again. “Tell you what, I’ll go get Troy and offer an introduction. The customer line is gone now anyway.”

“No, that’s okay. I don’t want to disturb him.”

The man nodded once as though the matter was decided, ignored Destiny’s protest and started toward the garage. And the gas, which was taking forever to pump, clicked to a near standstill when he walked away. Destiny didn’t even know the numbers could turn that slowly, but then again, all of the gas stations in Atlanta had digital displays. This one, like everything else she’d seen so far, seemed straight out of the 1950s. And since it continued turning slower than traffic on I-285 at rush hour, she barely had three gallons in the tank when Bo returned with tall, dark and mesmerizing Troy Lee by his side.

He was a good six-two, easy, the jet-black hair even darker shining in the sun. Destiny’s hands involuntarily tightened on the wheel, and she made her fingers relax so the blood could start flowing again. Did he really look this good, or was it the fact that she already knew so much about the man and the thoughts of his heart that made her feel as if she were going to pass out merely looking at him? The subscribers to her magazine would simply have to have a photo to accompany his love letters...once Destiny had the authority to put them in print. Which she’d have, one way or another, before next month’s issue. She had to; she’d already promised her advertisers.

“Troy, this is...” Bo Taylor waited for her to fill in the blank.

“Destiny,” she said. “Destiny Porter.”

“Nice to meet you.” He gave her an easy smile, and a deep dimple popped in place slightly beneath his left cheekbone. Somehow that single indention made him even more incredible.

“She’s from out of town, but I didn’t find out yet if she’s passing through or staying awhile.” He looked again to Destiny.

She really had to get a grip. “I’m from Atlanta. Staying awhile.”

Bo nodded. “Troy, my throat is parched. I thought that line of customers was never going to die down, but Ms. Destiny is the last one for now. Can you finish up here? I’m going to head on in and get a soda with Maura.”

“Sure.” Troy nodded at the man retreating to the station and didn’t seem to notice how guilty he looked as he left Destiny to deal with her unwanted attraction on her own. She did not need to be distracted by his looks. She simply needed his signature on a contract, a contract that would allow her to expose his innermost thoughts to the world.

Nervous, she looked away from the handsome country boy and spotted the latest copy of her magazine in the passenger’s seat, as well as a printout of the email that caused her to take this trip. And the love letters—this man’s love letters. She reached into the backseat, grabbed her gigantic purse and flung it over the evidence.

A deep clearing of his throat brought her attention back to the guy outside the car. “You okay?” He tilted his head with the question.

Destiny noticed he’d leaned against the pump and crossed his arms, which drew more attention to biceps that would put every guy in her Atlanta gym to shame. And she suspected from his letters that he wasn’t the kind of guy to hit a gym. He’d mentioned putting in a good, honest day’s work every day. She also knew that he’d support his wife’s choice if she wanted to work outside the home, but if she decided to be a stay-at-home mom, he’d support that just as much.

She knew so much about this guy, but he didn’t know the first thing about her. She’d have to change that, and she couldn’t waste time about it. Those letters could save her magazine. So she had to gain his trust and then get the rights to run them.

No sweat.

But she was sweating now, and she didn’t think it was necessarily due to the Alabama heat. Did all guys down here look like that?

Destiny saw that he still waited for her to answer his question. “Oh, yes, I’m fine. Just wanted to have my purse handy when it’s time to pay.” She shot a glance at the churning pump. “I’m guessing the customer lines have something to do with the speed of the pumps?”

He laughed, and the sound rippled over her skin like cocoa butter on a hot day at the beach. She’d have never thought a guy from a tiny town in Alabama could have this effect on her senses. Then again, she’d have never thought a guy from here would be as sensitive and heartfelt as the one standing beside her car.

But he didn’t know she knew about that. She snuck a glance at her passenger seat to make sure his letters were covered.

“So, you said you’re staying awhile. What are you planning to do in Claremont? We aren’t exactly the tourist capital of the world, other than the dude ranch and the fishing camp. But you don’t seem like the dude-ranch or fishing-camp type.” He shrugged broad shoulders. “No offense.”

“None taken.” She felt her heart rate slow and was glad she was becoming more at ease talking to the guy who’d so thoroughly, and unknowingly, touched her heart. “I’m staying a few weeks to write stories about life in a small Southern town.” That was true; she did plan to write about Claremont and about the couples she’d meet during her visit, as her magazine focused on love, but that wasn’t what brought her here.

Troy Lee did.

“Well, then, you’ve come to the right place. You don’t get much smaller than Claremont.” He sighed, a nearly inaudible sound, but one Destiny heard, since she hung on to every word. “But in my opinion, we’ve got everything anyone could need.”

And there it was, the sentimental side she’d sensed in his letters and the guy who’d treat a girl like pure gold. Destiny fought the urge to sigh right back. However, she’d dated quite a few guys who started out acting that way and then their true colors came shining through, thicker and darker than hard Georgia clay. She hadn’t met an honest, sincere one yet. But if Troy Lee’s letters to his future bride rang true, he could be the real deal. And the type her readers wanted to hear about.

She cleared her throat. “So, what does Claremont have, besides the dude ranch and the fishing camp?”

He grinned. “I was right. You aren’t the dude-ranch or fishing-camp kind of girl.”

She found it very easy to smile at Troy. “I’ll be honest. I’m afraid of horses, but truthfully, I’ve always wanted to learn how to fish.”

“Really, now? Well, I might be able to help you out.”

Destiny already knew that, of course, but she kept her poker face intact. “How could you do that?”

“It just so happens that I have a second job on the weekends running the fishing hole. It isn’t as organized and all as the new fish camp. The Cutter family owns that, and it’s more of a vacation spot. But my grandparents James and Jolaine Bowers own the fishing hole, and it’s the type of place to go if you want to have some quiet time for a day, relax outside, take in the scenery.”

“And catch some fish?”

His dimple popped back into place with his smile. “Yeah, that, too.”

“So you’ll be there this weekend?” Destiny was doing a little fishing right now, and she wasn’t all that discreet about it, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“I will.” He reached into his back pocket and withdrew a leather wallet. “I think I have a couple of their cards left in here. I’ll get you one. It’ll have the address for you. We’re open pretty much from sunup till sundown, so you can come whenever you like.”

“I don’t need a reservation?”

Blue eyes glittered as he looked up from a forest of black lashes. “Nah, it’s not that kind of place.”

She watched his hands, covered in dirt and oil, thumb through the worn wallet, and she noticed a small emblem on one corner of the leather, a gold cross. The symbol reminded her of the main theme of his letters.

I want a bride who loves the Lord more than she loves me.

The statement had caught Destiny unaware, shocked her a little. She didn’t have that kind of faith, didn’t really understand it, but the guy wrote about it so much that she honestly believed he meant those words. And that intrigued her even more.

“I know I have them in here somewhere.”

As he searched for the card, Destiny took the chance to look at his face, and she realized with surprise that it was also fairly well covered with dirt and grime, and one thick smear of what she guessed to be oil across his forehead. Funny, she hadn’t even noticed it before. His features had apparently drawn her attention to the important things. Or maybe it was the words he’d written on those love letters that hid any imperfections.

“Here it is.” He withdrew the card and handed it to Destiny. “You’ll have to excuse the smudge.” He pointed to a black smear along the edge. “You can still read the important stuff. And there’s another business on the back.”

Destiny flipped the card and saw the contact information for the Bowers’ Sporting Goods Shop on the Claremont square.

“My grandparents thought it’d be smart to consolidate their two businesses on one card.”

“Sounds like a good idea.” She tucked the card inside her purse.

The gas pump made a loud racket as it screeched to a stop. “Looks like it’s done.” He moved the nozzle from the tank to the pump. “Took fifty-three dollars’ worth.”