A Fare To Remember_ Just Whistle_Driven - Vicki Lewis Thompson [121]
“You wrestling with somebody back there?” Josh asked.
“I’m trying to get my train off. Shoot, I just broke a fingernail.”
“There’s a rest stop up ahead. If you want, I can pull off and help you.”
“That would be terrific. I wouldn’t mind having a chance to use the facilities, either.” Then she had an image of walking into the rest-stop bathroom in her wedding dress and laughed. It felt good to laugh, and she realized that the weight that had settled on her heart since the ex-girlfriend’s phone call was gradually lifting.
Or maybe the weight had been there before that phone call. Even without the information about Brad’s little problem, she’d been wondering if the marriage was a mistake. She’d put her uneasiness down to pre-wedding jitters. All her married friends had said it was common to have doubts.
Josh took the exit, cruised into the rest-stop parking lot and pulled alongside the curb. He stopped the car. “Don’t try to get out. I’ll come back there. After we get the train off, I’ll park in a truck lane until you come out of the bathroom.”
“Sounds good.”
Josh set the brake and went around to the passenger door. When he stepped into the back of the limo, his expression was all business. “Okay, turn around so I can get at those buttons.” There was nothing sexual in his tone at all.
Then why, Pris thought, was she suddenly picturing the two of them naked on the leather upholstery?
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE MINUTE JOSH climbed into the back of the limo with Pris, he realized he’d made a huge mistake. The lust he’d assumed was under control…wasn’t. Her perfume, her cleavage, her upswept hairdo and the look in those gray eyes took him right back to the days when he hadn’t been able to keep his hands off her.
But those days were over, and in the meantime she’d become engaged to another man. She’d been ready to marry the guy until something had spooked her. Josh couldn’t assume that the old flame burned for her, as well.
So he did his best to treat her as a professional chauffeur would treat a client. Unfortunately, having the client stoop over in the back of the limo and present her backside to him so he could unfasten her bridal train hadn’t been covered during Red Carpet’s orientation. As he worked with the tiny buttons and loops, he remembered the times he’d had sex with her in this position.
“Are you getting it?” she asked.
He was getting hot and bothered, if that’s what she meant. “Almost,” he said. She had such a sweet little backside. Even through the layers of satin, he could see the outlines of the tush he used to love to cup in both hands while he—Oh, damn. He didn’t dare think about that.
“I’ll bet you’re wondering what happened to put me in this position.”
“You mean braced backside out against the seat of my limo?”
“Very funny. No, I meant the Great Wedding Escape.”
He’d come to the last button, so he stalled, pretending to have trouble with it. “I’ll admit to being curious.”
“Once I’m rid of this blasted train and I’ve made a trip to the bathroom, I’ll tell you all about it. You’ll probably laugh yourself silly.”
“I wouldn’t count on it. Running out on your wedding is serious stuff.”
She sighed. “I know, and I feel terrible about it. My poor parents—all that time and money wasted.”
He found it interesting that she’d thought first of her parents, rather than the jilted groom. He could hardly wait to hear what had caused her to bolt.
“Josh, are you still unbuttoning back there? I can’t feel your fingers moving.”
She used to love to feel his fingers moving—all over her body. “Just finished.” He resisted the urge to smack her lightly on the bottom, just a teasing little pat, like he used to do all the time when they were dating. “You’re done.” He pulled the train away and backed out of the limo still holding it.
“Thanks.” She stayed hunched over as she turned around, picked up her skirts and maneuvered through the door.
Tucking the train under his arm, he held her elbow to steady her descent. “Watch yourself. Don’t want you tripping on your