Groom Wore Leather

Taylor Manning

Description

The Ladies Prayer Circle of Ophelia, Texas, has undertaken the task of seeing that Hannah Murphy gets married. But when a bad-boy biker in leather and skin-tight jeans rolls into town, will stubborn Hannah be the first to ruin the Prayer Circle's long string of successes?

Informations

• Publié par: Uncial Press
• Date de parution: 17 juillet 2009
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781601740755
• Langue: English

Extrait

The Groom Wore Leather
 
By
Taylor Manning
 
 
Uncial Press       Aloha, Oregon 2009
 
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events described herein areproducts of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real.Any resemblance to actual events, locations, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirelycoincidental.
ISBN 13: 978-1-60174-075-5 ISBN 10: 1-60174-075-1
Copyright © 2009 by Betty Kasischke and Kathryn Overton
Cover design Copyright © 2009 by Judith B. Glad
All rights reserved. Except for use in review, the reproduction or utilization of this workin whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known orhereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the author or publisher.
Published by Uncial Press, an imprint of GCT, Inc.
Visit us at http://www.uncialpress.com
Chapter One
The sound outside Hannah Murphy's office caused a haunting memory to tingle theinside of her thighs and a shiver of excitement to race up her spine. It started as a low rumble andgrew into a roar. There was no sound in the world like it: thunderous and deep-throated, like aliving, breathing thing. A Harley.
She squirmed, but she wasn't about to look out the window. Harleys belonged in herpast. The real estate contract on the desk in front of her was her present, and her future. She tooka deep breath and released it, assuring herself that she knew the difference between then andnow. She could handle it. Only then did she allow herself to look up from the contract just as thebike rolled past the open curtains. The rider wore black leather and blue jeans. No helmet.
"Idiot," she muttered, dismissing the glimpse she'd gotten of a tanned face, tawny hair,and long legs. Legs that hugged the sides of the bike like an old west outlaw's hugged hishorse.
And yes, sir, it was a Harley-Davidson Electra Glide touring bike, proud as any stallion,with a gleaming chrome mane and a dual exhaust tail.
"Hannah Murphy, you are an idiot." She snatched up the contract and stared atthe small print, but her brain refused to refocus. Real estate legalese was no substitute for whatcruised outside her window.
The engine rumble changed to an idle. She fingered aside the gingham cafécurtains and peeked out again. The biker had stopped in front of the empty two-story buildingdirectly across the street with the big For Rent sign in the window. Her heartflipped.
He was in front of her building. The one she desperately needed to rent.
The man cut the engine and swung one long leg over the bike. Hannah watched, herbreath held tight, as he walked to the window and peered inside. He turned and looked straight ather office.
"Come on, mister," she whispered. "I'm right across the street here. Come on over. Youknow you want to rent it."
Even as she whispered the words, she had second thoughts. This guy was a biker. Didshe really want to rent to one of them? She knew from first-hand experience that bikers weren'tthe best credit risks.
Look at Frank.
The thought of her ex-husband suddenly changed the message she sent to thestranger.
"Ride on by, mister. You can't afford the rent, 'cause I just tripled it."
Then she did another mental about-face. She desperately needed that rent money,and soon, if she was going to meet the deadline for her son's tuition to Wilford MilitaryAcademy. The private school was her last hope for Tim to become more than his father wouldever be.
Hannah chewed her lower lip and kept her eyes glued to the window. The biker steppedoff the curb and came straight in her direction, his long-legged stride eating up the distancebetween them.
The tingle was still with her. She tried willing it away. Just because the guy rode aHarley wasn't any reason to get so worked up. Oh, sure, he was hunky and had legs that went onforever, but he was just a guy. And she'd given up on guys a long time ago.
"I am not a silly teenager any more. I am a grown woman. I can handle this. And I will,for Tim."
The little brass bell over her front door tinkled.
Logan Kimbrough opened the door and stepped into the reception area of MurphyRealty, more excited than he'd been in a long, long time. The building was perfect.
"May I help you?"
An angel in gray gabardine came from an office around the corner. Honey brown hairdraped over her shoulders, framing a heart-shaped face of China-doll purity. And her bodywasn't bad either.
Usually not at a loss for words, Logan found himself speechless as the angel camecloser, her expression changing from cool professionalism to concern. He forced his mouth towork. "I want to talk to someone about renting the building across the street."
Her concern faded and the cool professional reappeared.
"You're in the right place, but I'm afraid I have a settlement in a few minutes. Wouldyou mind terribly if I asked you to return tomorrow? I'll be free all day and would be pleased todiscuss it with you then."
That was either the truth or a brush-off and Logan suspected the latter. When she lookedat him, it was almost as though all she saw was a wild biker, ready to wreck the town and despoilthe young girls. Some perverse urge made him want to do something outrageously biker, likedoing a wheelie in her reception area.
"Sure, that would be fine." Let her think she'd gotten rid of him. He wasn't about to giveup, just because she didn't appear to approve of his mode of transportation. "I'll see youtomorrow, ma'am."
Hannah watched him return to his bike and mount up. Once he was safely on his wayout of town, she walked slowly back to her office. Maybe he would keep on riding and not lookback.
He wanted to rent her building. Had she discouraged him? Part of her hoped so, but onthe other hand...
She plopped down in her chair.
The brochure from Wilford Military Academy lay on the corner of her desk. Shereached over and picked it up, studying for the hundredth time the full-color images ofmanicured lawns, whitewashed buildings, and disciplined students in starched uniforms headingto classes. The brochure was falling apart from all the times she'd read it and dreamed of offeringher son such an opportunity. An opportunity she'd never had.
And though the thought of sending her baby away for most of the year twisted a dullknife in her heart, she knew it would be for the best. Tim had to have a decent male role model.His father certainly wasn't.
Again Hannah raised her eyes to the empty building sitting on Ophelia's Main Street.Her red For Rent sign had hung in the window for three months now. Ophelia didn't exactly havethe fastest-moving real estate market. And now here was this biker--she hadn't even asked hisname--who said he wanted it. Thank heavens she had the settlement folks coming in a fewminutes. She hadn't been ready to decide what to do. Her head told her one thing, and her guttold her another, like how badly she needed the steady money that would come from renting herown property.
At least she'd get a settlement check today. But it would only pay for a small part ofTim's education at Wilford. She needed to rent her building.
Hannah let out a long sigh. After ten years of slaving at two jobs to build her real estatebusiness, she was on the edge of maybe, finally, getting on her own two feet. Of having enoughmoney that she didn't need to worry about her mortgage or making her car payment or puttingfood on the table.
Why did he have to be a biker?
* * * *
Miss Daisy Hemphill sat at the head of her kitchen table, carefully unfolded the oldpiece of tattered paper, and raised her eyes to the two women sitting with her.
"Ladies!" She spoke loudly so Mattie Clarke, whose 83-year old ears didn't work toowell anymore, could understand her. "I called you together today to pray on behalf of a girl weall know. Hannah Murphy."
"About time," Jonabelle Kaufmann said, nodding vigorously. "That girl needs a man tohelp with her boy. Elsewise he'll turn out just like his daddy."
"Jonabelle, let's not gossip, dear," Miss Daisy chided gently.
"It's not gossip if it's true, Daisy," Mattie shouted, as though the other two were as deafas she was. "But mark my words, Hannah won't appreciate our efforts."
"We have a job to do, my dears," Miss Daisy continued, "and that is to help Hannah,even if it means helping her help herself."
Jonabelle and Mattie both bobbed their gray heads in agreement.
Miss Daisy settled her reading glasses on her nose and raised the yellowed scrap ofpaper.
"In 1864 the Ladies Prayer Circle of Ophelia, Texas, first came together to pray for aman for Annalise Gruber, whose husband Fritz died in the War, leaving her with seven little onesto raise. Since that time the ladies of Ophelia have carried on this tradition, trusting our prayerswill be answered in the best way." Miss Daisy smiled around the Circle. "Let's begin,ladies."
The soft hum of whispered words rose from the table. They all knew Hannah and hadseen how she'd turned her life around after the mistakes of her youth. No one deserved the joy oftrue love and a happy marriage more than Hannah did.
As Miss Daisy sat with her head bowed and prayed fervently that Hannah would knowthe same joy she had known so many years ago, a ball of white fur flew into her lap, purringfuriously.
"Napoleon, you nuisance." Miss Daisy stroked the cat's long fur and felt the reassuringvibration of his purr.
Napoleon agreed with the plan to pray for Hannah.
But Mattie was right as rain. Hannah was just stubborn and independent-minded enoughto try to sidestep their efforts.
But there were ways to make sure she couldn't. Maybe, Miss Daisy thought, a trip totown wouldn't be amiss.
Chapter Two
"Nice little town," Logan Kimbrough said to himself as he rode out of Ophelia. Onemain street. One blinking yellow light. He smiled. Just what the doctor ordered. Now to take careof another matter of long standing.
Logan reviewed the directions he carried in his head