Five miles down the road, he pulled into the service area and helped her off the bike.
“Sorry. I’ll only be a minute. I supersized the soda I had with lunch.”
Watching her and her backpack disappear into the restroom, Jake wondered if he really would see her again or if she’d just vanish like a fantasy.
Lucinda skirted a pointing child, a harried mother who stopped to stare and a scruffy little dog that looked like it wanted to lift his leg on her. Finally, she reached the refuge of the women’s room.
Oh, my God! What had she done?
Talk about a train wreck!
In her crystal-sequined designer gown, she leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. Careful, cautious Lucinda was running away with a stranger, on the back of a Harley.
A stranger who looked like he could walk down any dark alley and have muggers and thieves run the other direction. How did anyone end up with shoulders that wide, muscles that powerful? Emerald eyes and hair the dark of midnight. And the way his hair curled around the back edge of his helmet… She fanned herself.
Something about the way he’d looked at her when she’d fessed up to her identity…
No way would she have gotten into a car with him. Somehow, though, a motorcycle seemed open. Safe.
She almost laughed. Safe? She doubted anyone had ever used that adjective to describe Jake Parker.
Milquetoast Donald of the sand-brown hair and a few fledgling muscles earned during lunchtimes spent at the gym faded to insignificance. Yet hadn’t she, only this morning, been willing to pledge her life to him? What did that say about her?
Maybe someone had stolen her mind while she slept last night after her bachelorette party. A hysterical giggle escaped. Never in her life had she done anything reckless. But, boy, this first time, she’d pulled a lulu!
The really crazy thing? It was liberating. She’d never known such a sense of freedom. Nobody wanted anything from her. Nobody knew where she was. No immediate deadlines to meet.
Maybe she could just keep running.
No. She had one week. That was her scheduled honeymoon. After that the company expected her back at work.
But she would take the week. A week to lick her wounds and decide what she was going to do. How she’d cope with the snake. Make that the den of snakes. Slimeball Donald, her traitorous father and the witch Rebecca.
“Golly, that dress sure is pretty. I’ve never seen anything like it in my life.”
Lucinda opened her eyes. A shy-looking girl who couldn’t have been a day over eighteen stood beside her, busily inspecting her gown from top to bottom.
“Billy’s coming home in two months, and me and him are gonna get married the minute he steps foot off that plane. I’ve been looking at dresses, but I sure can’t afford nothing like yours.”
“Where’s Billy now?” Lucinda asked.
“He’s in the army. Overseas fighting.” Tears filled the girl’s eyes. “I worry ’bout him, but my mama says I just gotta have faith.”
“Your mama’s right. I’m sure Billy’s going to be just fine.” Lucinda caught the gleam of the miniscule diamond in the girl’s engagement ring. “What’s your name?”
“Kimmy. Kimmy Ann Dilworth.” The girl pulled a tube of lip balm from her pocket and, turning to the mirror, ran it nervously back and forth over her full mouth.
Lucinda paused. Only a moment. In for a dime, in for a dollar.
“Give me two seconds.” She scooted into the first booth, unzipped her dress and slipped it over her head. “Can you reach this?” She dangled the fairy-tale creation over the door.
“Yeah.” Kimmie took the dress.
“It’s yours, along with all my best to you and Billy.”
The girl squealed. “You’re kidding!”
“Nope. I’m all done with it. Take it. Wear it. Be happy.” She dug into her backpack, pulled out the clothes she’d worn to the church and slid into them.
She came out of the stall to find Kimmie still standing there, her arms full of white fluff.
“You’re serious?”
“I am.”
Kimmie wrapped one arm around Lucinda, squishing the dress between them. “Thank you! Oh my gosh! Wait till Mama sees this!” She ran out the door, a mile-wide smile on her face.
Lucinda watched Kimmie and the dress disappear. She caught sight of herself in the mirror wearing the worn, comfy jeans and cropped top she’d left home in that morning. “You did good, Lucinda Darling,” she told herself with a smile.
She headed outside toward her incredibly sexy knight on a motorcycle.
Chapter Three
Peach Festival weekend.
Lucinda and Jake cruised the tiny town’s main street on his Harley. Their timing couldn’t have been worse. Charity, Georgia, was crawling with tourists eating peach fritters and peach candy and carrying bags full of “peach” crafts.