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Joanna Sims – A Match Made in Montana (страница 1)

18

Face-to-face, with only the pulpit between them, they stood smiling at each other as if they had just uncovered a buried treasure.

Josephine, exactly at that moment, noticed Logan’s eyes. Yes, she had seen his eyes before. But she hadn’t really noticed how incredibly beautiful they were—such a dark, rich brown that they reminded her of expensive black satin.

“What?” he asked her, in a half-curious, half-amused manner.

His single-word question snapped her out of it—she had been unintentionally staring into his eyes. Once she realized that she had been mindlessly ogling him, she started to laugh.

“Sorry—I was just thinking about something from when I was a kid.”

“What’s that?”

“When I was … oh, I don’t know … seven or eight …” Josephine walked out from behind the pulpit and joined Logan where he was standing.

“I used to stand in this exact spot and pretend that I was getting married. Jordan and I took turns officiating the wedding and being the bride …” Josephine laughed softly and looked over at him. “You standing here just reminded me of that. I haven’t thought of that in years.”

The Brands of Montana: Wrangling their own happily-ever-afters

A Match Made in Montana

Joanna Sims

www.millsandboon.co.uk

JOANNA SIMS lives in Florida with her awesome husband, Cory, and their three fabulous felines, Sebastian, Chester (aka Tubby) and Ranger. By day, Joanna works as a speech-language pathologist, and by night, she writes contemporary romance for Mills & Boon® Cherish™. Joanna loves to hear from readers and invites you to stop by her website for a visit: joannasimsromance.com.

This book is dedicated, with love, to my Dad.

In the whole entire world, you are the best dad for me!

Contents

Cover

Excerpt

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Extract

Copyright

“Man...” Lieutenant Wolf checked his watch. “I can’t believe I got stuck working overtime the day I’m supposed to start my leave.”

“Don’t worry about it...I’ve got this. Why don’t you take off?” Officer Cook asked.

“I appreciate it, but I don’t feel right cutting out early. I’ll just give my friends a call and let them know that...” Logan stopped midsentence, his attention was drawn to a silver car speeding their way. “Wait a minute...wait a minute...how fast are they going?”

Logan stepped closer to the side of the road, aimed his radar gun at the car, and clocked it breaking the speed limit by twenty-one miles per hour. Logan acted on pure instinct, sprang into action. He jumped onto the road, jerked his arm to the left, finger pointed at the side of the road.

“Pull over! Now!” Logan yelled at the driver. He stood his ground with his feet planted on the black asphalt until he saw the driver slow down and turn on their signal.

“That’s reckless, right there...” Cook came up beside him.

“Sure is.” Logan nodded.

Logan handed the radar gun off to his partner, grabbed his clipboard and pen, and then headed across the two lanes separating him from the car he had just flagged down. Giving this driver a well-deserved ticket was the last thing he was going to do before he went on leave.

Josephine Brand glanced over her shoulder to see the motorcycle cop striding across the lanes in her direction. She went back to frantically riffling through her glove box to find her most current insurance and registration information. She always kept everything together neatly in a labeled envelope in the glove box on top of the car manual. But...it wasn’t there!

“I can’t believe this is happening...” Josephine shut the glove box and went back to searching in her wallet.

She was already late, and she hated to be late so she made it a point never to be late. But she had gotten into an argument with her boyfriend, Brice, the night before and their disagreement had followed them into the next morning. They rarely fought, but when they did fight, it was usually a knock-down, drag-out affair. She was exhausted from lack of sleep, emotionally drained from fighting, and now she was going to get her first speeding ticket in years.

“Great...” she muttered. “Just great.”

When the second search through her wallet was unfruitful, Josephine let out a quick, frustrated sigh and shoved the wallet back into her purse. License out and ready to be handed over, Josephine rested her head in her hand and waited for her inevitable ticket.

“Afternoon, miss.” Logan had already surveyed the car and the driver as he crossed the street. Nothing looked suspicious, so he intended to treat this like a routine traffic stop.

“Good afternoon, Officer,” she said respectfully and extended her license to him.

Logan positioned himself by the side-view mirror, his body facing oncoming traffic, his feet out of the line of the tires. He accepted her license, clipped it to the clipboard.

“Do you know how fast you were going?”

“No.” Josephine slipped her sunglasses to the top of her head so he could see her eyes. “I’m sorry...I don’t.”

She had been stressed out about being late to the airport, and her mind had still been distracted by the fight with Brice, so she just hadn’t been paying attention.

From the beginning, Logan had noticed that the driver was an attractive woman, much in the same way he had noticed the model of car she was driving. It was his job to notice everything about his stops. And taking inventory of drivers and passengers was routine. So, yes, he noticed that her hair was long and golden-brown, that the hair framed her oval face, and that her frowning lips were naturally pink. But when she lifted her sunglasses and looked up at him, he was temporarily captivated by her stunning aqua-blue eyes.

Annoyed that he had allowed himself to be distracted from his purpose, Logan shifted his weight and refocused his mind on the task at hand. He had a job to do and he needed to get it done.

“The posted speed limit here is thirty-five. I clocked you at fifty-six miles per hour,” Logan said. “Twenty miles over the posted speed limit is considered reckless driving.”

Josephine’s eyes widened, her lips parted slightly. “Reckless driving? No. That can’t be right. I swear to you, Officer, I wasn’t speeding intentionally,” Josephine explained quickly. “I haven’t had a ticket in ten years. When you look me up, you’ll see. I have a perfect driving record...”

She could tell by the lack of expression on the officer’s face that he wasn’t remotely swayed by her explanation. He waited quietly for her to finish, then he asked for her proof of insurance and registration.