Chapter One
Tanner stood next to his cousin Jeramy and watched Sophia, or Soapy as he’d called her when they were growing up, as she daintily picked at the salad on her plate. She didn’t seem remotely interested in the mixed greens, but she held herself up right and staunchly refused to touch any of the delicious cake that was being passed around.
Tanner hoped she wasn’t still being self- conscious about her weight. She always had been, well, at least she was when he’d seen her last...some ten years ago now. Where she was worried that her shape wasn’t pleasing, Tanner knew all too well that they were and he worriedthat he wasn’t the only man eyeing her voluptuous body.
In fact, he was so concerned with the fit of her clothes that he stopped paying attention to anything else as soon as she sat down across from him. He wasn’t even remotely sure what the hell was going on, because he’d tuned out the conversation the moment she walked in.
Sophia Lorenzo was everything her name claimed her to be. She called to mind the famous actress with all the beauty that had more than likely been her namesake, and then stomped that same image right to smither-fucking-renes.
Sophia was dynamite, and lots of it. The classic way her body dipped in just at her waist before racing into curves that any driver worth his salt would want to test out with the top down and the throttle wide open. Just the thought of having the top down brought his eyes back to her bosom. Oh yes, he could get lost in that. Lost and never found again. In fact, he’d kill the person who tried to rescue him.
He was contemplating murder, and almost acted on it when Jeramy called his name one more time.
“What? What, dammit, what? What could you possibly want that you keep calling my damn name? Can you not see that I am busy? I am—I was trying to—you—just what?”
Tanner stammered to a stop before realizing that he’d just made himself the laughing stock of the entire wedding party.
Everyone sitting at the table was motionless, a mouse could have farted in the deepest reaches of the Amazon and it would have been heard. That was until Jeramy, his wife-to-be, and every one her bridesmaids all burst out laughing. They were followed by the men in the group until the entire table was roaring. Some people held napkins to their faces while others fell into their plates or leaned back in their chairs with tears rolling down their faces. Everyone was laughing, except him and the object of his intense concentration. She had her head bowed, chin tucked into her chest and all he could think was how wonderful it would feel, smell, and taste to be snuggled there. How amazing she would look with their babies tucked against her shoulder, sleeping soundly after having nursed at her breast. No, scratch that, from a bottle—yeah, definitely from a bottle, because he so wasn’t sharing his breasts with any man—even his own son—well, at least not for long.
Sophia calmly put her fork down before taking a big breath and holding it while she counted to ten...three times over. Opening her eyes, she pasted a wide smile on her face and looked directly into Tanner Saldana’s piercing blue-green gaze.
“You haven’t changed at all, have you? We all know you were extremely busy guess-timating my breast size, Tanner,” she spoke in a low and husky voice that was so surprising to hear. The thick Latino accent often threw people in this area. Even though Sophia had skin black as coal and had grown up most of her life in Northwest Texas, she still retained her heavy south-of-the-border accent she’d learned from her parents. Granted, it was only ever prominent when she was aggravated.
And at this very moment, she was more than aggravated. Not so much at the fact that her childhood crush had caused the entire wedding party to break into laughter at her expense, but because he was eyeing her the way she’d always dreamed he would. Sophia had had a
Tanner stood next to his cousin Jeramy and watched Sophia, or Soapy as he’d called her when they were growing up, as she daintily picked at the salad on her plate. She didn’t seem remotely interested in the mixed greens, but she held herself up right and staunchly refused to touch any of the delicious cake that was being passed around.
Tanner hoped she wasn’t still being self- conscious about her weight. She always had been, well, at least she was when he’d seen her last...some ten years ago now. Where she was worried that her shape wasn’t pleasing, Tanner knew all too well that they were and he worriedthat he wasn’t the only man eyeing her voluptuous body.
In fact, he was so concerned with the fit of her clothes that he stopped paying attention to anything else as soon as she sat down across from him. He wasn’t even remotely sure what the hell was going on, because he’d tuned out the conversation the moment she walked in.
Sophia Lorenzo was everything her name claimed her to be. She called to mind the famous actress with all the beauty that had more than likely been her namesake, and then stomped that same image right to smither-fucking-renes.
Sophia was dynamite, and lots of it. The classic way her body dipped in just at her waist before racing into curves that any driver worth his salt would want to test out with the top down and the throttle wide open. Just the thought of having the top down brought his eyes back to her bosom. Oh yes, he could get lost in that. Lost and never found again. In fact, he’d kill the person who tried to rescue him.
He was contemplating murder, and almost acted on it when Jeramy called his name one more time.
“What? What, dammit, what? What could you possibly want that you keep calling my damn name? Can you not see that I am busy? I am—I was trying to—you—just what?”
Tanner stammered to a stop before realizing that he’d just made himself the laughing stock of the entire wedding party.
Everyone sitting at the table was motionless, a mouse could have farted in the deepest reaches of the Amazon and it would have been heard. That was until Jeramy, his wife-to-be, and every one her bridesmaids all burst out laughing. They were followed by the men in the group until the entire table was roaring. Some people held napkins to their faces while others fell into their plates or leaned back in their chairs with tears rolling down their faces. Everyone was laughing, except him and the object of his intense concentration. She had her head bowed, chin tucked into her chest and all he could think was how wonderful it would feel, smell, and taste to be snuggled there. How amazing she would look with their babies tucked against her shoulder, sleeping soundly after having nursed at her breast. No, scratch that, from a bottle—yeah, definitely from a bottle, because he so wasn’t sharing his breasts with any man—even his own son—well, at least not for long.
Sophia calmly put her fork down before taking a big breath and holding it while she counted to ten...three times over. Opening her eyes, she pasted a wide smile on her face and looked directly into Tanner Saldana’s piercing blue-green gaze.
“You haven’t changed at all, have you? We all know you were extremely busy guess-timating my breast size, Tanner,” she spoke in a low and husky voice that was so surprising to hear. The thick Latino accent often threw people in this area. Even though Sophia had skin black as coal and had grown up most of her life in Northwest Texas, she still retained her heavy south-of-the-border accent she’d learned from her parents. Granted, it was only ever prominent when she was aggravated.
And at this very moment, she was more than aggravated. Not so much at the fact that her childhood crush had caused the entire wedding party to break into laughter at her expense, but because he was eyeing her the way she’d always dreamed he would. Sophia had had a
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