Free A Family Kind of Wedding by Lisa Jackson

lines across her smooth forehead gave him pause. He noticed the pulse beating at the base of her throat and the way the wind snatched at her hair.
    For a second the urge to take her into his arms was so strong he nearly gave in. Standing alone at the side of the road with the sound of the truck’s engine fading in the distance and the stars flickering in the sky, he was tempted to pull her against his chest and rest his chin on her crown. She was small and warm, smelling of lilacs and honey, and he knew she’d feel like heaven against him.
    She glanced up at him with those luminous eyes, and he had to set his jaw against the overpowering urge to kiss her until they both couldn’t breathe.
    The thought struck him hard, and he shoved it quickly aside. He cleared his throat. “We’d better get a move on.”
    â€œOh, right.” She, as if having read his mind, couldn’t get to the pickup fast enough. The entire way back to her house she sat pressed against the passenger door, as if she, too, was touched by the growing intimacy between them, and it scared her to death. She looked as if she hoped to bolt the minute he pulled into her driveway.
    He switched on the radio, played with the buttons and finally settled for a rock station that was usually more heavy metal than he liked. They didn’t talk much, and he tried to ignore her, but his mind was racing down a path that was as dark as midnight, a path he didn’t like.
    Who was Josh’s father?
    The kid was ten or eleven. Just the right age.
    But it would be too much of a coincidence for Josh to be Dave Sorenson’s son. Too much. There were dozens of kids Josh’s age who didn’t live with their dads. Besides, Ralph wasn’t sure if Dave had fathered a boy or girl or any kid at all, for that matter. Ralph Sorenson’s grandchild might be just a figment of the old man’s imagination, a pipe dream that he couldn’t yet give up.
    Still, the thought that Josh Kinkaid might be Ralph Sorenson’s grandson burned deep in Luke’s brain. Like it or not, he’d have to check out the kid’s birth records. He slid a glance at Katie as the lights of Bittersweet glowed ever closer. She leaned against the window of the passenger door and chewed nervously on a fingernail.
    As if sensing him watching her, she dropped her hand, and Luke turned all his attention to winding through the tree-lined streets of the small town. From what he understood, she’d lived here all her life. It shouldn’t be too hard to check out the truth. The knot in his gut bothered him; she’d reacted strongly to the news of Dave’s death, with the emotion of someone who was more than just a casual acquaintance.
    Was it possible?
    Could she and Dave have been high-school sweethearts? Lovers? His fingers tightened over the steering wheel in a death grip as he cruised around the final corner to her house. Hell, what a mess.
    He wheeled into the driveway and parked inches from the sagging door of her dilapidated garage. From the open window of Josh’s bedroom, Blue gave out a sharp, no-nonsense bark.
    â€œGuard dog,” Luke observed, switching off the ignition and trying to ignore the tension that seemed to invade the pickup’s dark interior.
    â€œHe thinks he is, I guess.” Katie managed a smile that was feeble at best. Nonetheless, that slight twitching of her lips touched Luke in a place he’d long forgotten. “My guess is that if Joe Burglar ever did show up, Blue would turn tail and run. Deep inside he’s a chicken.” She leaned her head against the back of the seat. “But he’s loyal and good-hearted. Always glad to see me.” She nodded slightly, to herself. “I’ve had him longer than I’ve had Josh. Mom gave Blue to me on my sixteenth birthday.” She shoved her hair from her eyes. “Most of the kids were hoping for a car, and all I wanted was a puppy to love