The Bride Wore Tie-Dye

Cover Page

Excerpt

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Copyright

Trenton’s Smile Knocked Away

What Little Equilibrium Melodie

Had Left.

When his arm suddenly blocked her path, her heart stopped. Then, when she looked up at him, so close to her, it started beating again. Too fast.

In one of those moments usually reserved for the movies, she just stood there, immobilized, staring into his eyes. She waited, expectantly, as he lowered his mouth to hers and claimed her lips in a possessive kiss.

He was always so stodgy, she had been sure he would be as methodical about kissing as he was about the rest of his life.

But oh, no. Here was where the soul of Trenton James Laroquette lived. His lips on hers were an invitation to joy, and his tongue was a gentle, coaxing summons to experience the decadently sensual.

And the summons was so tempting, so irresistible, it scared her to death…

Dear Reader,

The holidays are always a busy time of year, and this year is no exception! Our “banquet table” is chock-full of delectable stories by some of your favorite authors.

November is a time to come home again—and come back to the miniseries you love. Dixie Browning continues her TALL, DARK AND HANDSOME series with Stryker’s Wife, which is Dixie’s 60th book! This MAN OF THE MONTH is a reluctant bachelor you won’t be able to resist! Fall in love with a footloose cowboy in Cowboy Pride, book five of Anne McAllister’s CODE OF THE WEST series. Be enthralled by Abbie and the Cowboy—the conclusion to the THREE WEDDINGS AND A GIFT miniseries by Cathie Linz.

And what would the season be without HOLIDAY HONEYMOONS? You won’t want to miss the second book in this cross-line continuity series by reader favorites Merline Lovelace and Carole Buck. This month, it’s a delightful wedding mix-up with Wrong Bride, Right Groom by Merline Lovelace.

And that’s not all! In Roared Flint is a secret baby tale by RITA Award winner Jan Hudson. And Pamela Ingrahm has created an adorable opposites-attract story in The Bride Wore Tie-Dye.

So, grab a book and give yourself a treat in the middle of all the holiday rushing. You’ll be glad you did.

Happy reading!

Senior Editor

and the editors of Silhouette Desire

Please address questions and book requests to:

Silhouette Reader Service

U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269

Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3

The Bride Wore Tie-Dye

Pamela Ingrahm

www.millsandboon.co.uk

PAMELA INGRAHM

is a native Texan, filled with true Texas pride. She lives in Austin, and is still madly in love with her high school sweetheart. She also says her two children are the greatest kids in the world. Her experiences in over fourteen years as a legal assistant provide just some of her story ideas, and being an accomplished seamstress and quilter take up her “spare” time. “Becoming a published author is a dream come true,” Pamela says, and she plans to keep dreaming for a long, long time.

To my children, the two greatest kids in the world:

April and Mitchell. I love you both very much.

To Barbara: For all your support during the years before

I “made it.” You’ve been the greatest

boss anybody could ever have.

To John, Susan and Diane: Thanks!

One

“Miss Melodie?”

Melodie Allford whirled in surprise at the deep, decidedly masculine tone. On any given day, she heard her name called a hundred times, but the chorus of voices was usually several octaves higher. In fact, the chorus had just gone squealing to the four-through-six-year-old’s playground at Little Angels Day Care, leaving her—and the beginnings of a whopper headache—in blessed quiet to finish stacking the mats.

She took one look at the body that belonged to this voice and decided that yes, Virginia, there was a Santa Claus, and he had been very, very good to this man.

She suppressed a wry grin and decided there was just enough small-town girl in her to be a little dazzled by what she saw. She clutched the tumbling mat to her like a lifeline.

She rarely met the parents of the children she taught dance to, as her classes were over well before pick-up time. This, however, was one father she truly regretted not getting to meet sooner.

He was tall—easily six-three or six-four. Mmm…perfect. At five foot nine, she was hardly a giant, but she liked looking up at her dance partners.

He also had black hair with just a whisper of gray starting to show at his temples. Very distinguished.

And blue eyes. Deep, dark blue, fringed by thick, black lashes. Lashes that most women would kill for. Dark brows that arched like guardians.

Tanned. Not a dark tanning-bed tan, but a warm, I-get-out-in-the-sun tan that his crisp white shirt showed off to perfection.

And what a body! For all that his perfectly proper navy suit probably had a Brooks Brothers or Joseph Banks or heaven only knew what other label in it—which she could forgive this once—the body in the suit was great. It included broad shoulders, a narrow waist and legs she would pay good money to see in a pair of cutoffs. Or better yet, biker’s shorts. In fact, she wondered just what he did to look so mouth-wateringly good. Jog? Swim?

Melodie couldn’t wait until he left so she could check out the rear view.

On second thought, yes, she could. She could stand here and watch him for the next hour. If he’d oblige.

She wondered if his wife appreciated just what she had. Then again—she straightened a little—where was it written that he was married? There were lots of single dads out there these days…

When she realized she had yet to speak to the man, she felt that dratted blush creep up her neck. No doubt, next to her red hair, her usually paler-than-a-bedsheet complexion now looked like an anemic sunburn—as it did any time she got flustered.

“Um, yes, I’m Melodie Allford. Can I help you?”

There. That sounded casual, businesslike and refined. Nothing to reveal her still-erratic pulse.

As if her belated greeting were his cue, he took a step closer and held out his hand. “I’m Trenton Laroquette. Amber Dawson’s uncle.”

Ah, yes. Trenton James Laroquette, Esquire, to be precise. Or so his letterhead had read. Then the man smiled. And Melodie’s knees melted.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said, surprised at how flustered she felt by a mere handshake.

Hope sprang eternal in her young heart. Uncle, not dad. No wedding ring, although that was no guarantee. Charming, urbane, handsome.

Hope strangled itself when she realized how she was dressed. Her outfit of white leggings embroidered with pigs, black jogging shorts and a purple tie-dyed shirt was a little wild, even by her own standards. If she dared move the tumbling mat which, for the moment, was an effective shield, she had the sinking feeling Mr. Wonderful would become Mr. Displeased. Somehow she doubted that a guy who looked as if he’d stepped off the cover of GQ would understand how well children responded to outfits such as this. After all, this was a creative dance class…

In fact, the more she thought about it, the more mournful hope’s sigh became. This guy was all Wall Street and black lacquer desks—or whatever passed for uptight-corporate-mogul in Austin, Texas, these days. She doubted he’d have much tolerance for a single thirty-something who spent her days teaching improv dance to little kids and her nights deciding between chicken noodle or vegetable beef. On an exciting evening, she added oyster crackers.

“The pleasure is mine, Miss Allford. I’m sorry for my informal address when I arrived, but Amber only calls you Miss Melodie. Could I inquire if you’ve received my letter?”

Could he inquire? Melodie felt hope give one last kick as it turned up its toes and fell into the grave. She wished he had let her keep her illusions just a bit longer before confirming he was completely uptight. He was probably going to pick a wife who wore little lace collars and blushed demurely at every turn. Not that Melodie was one to cast stones. She blushed all the time—the common curse of a redhead—but never demurely.

“Peanut butter and all,” she said, almost laughing at his confused expression. She decided she’d better cut out the wisecracks. Too many jokes might confuse the poor man. “Your concept for a children’s workout video is interesting, and the role of instructor sounds intriguing, but…”

Her voice faded and her eyes widened when he shrugged out of his jacket and slung it over his shoulder, hooked on one finger. She’d seen it in the movies and thought the move was incredibly sexy. Without a doubt, it was more potent in person.

“Trenton!”

A voice boomed from behind the tall man. Melodie had never been so glad to see Serena, the owner of the day-care center, as she was right now. Serena’s entrance had beautifully covered her momentary gapemouthed loss for words.

“Good afternoon, Serena. How has your day been?”

“Busy. I see you’ve met Melodie,” she said, gesturing with the antenna of the walkie-talkie that was so much a part of her. Melodie thought Serena probably felt naked without it.

“Yes, we were just talking about the video,” Trenton said, casting a polite glance to both women.

We were? Melodie kept her expression carefully neutral.

Serena smiled, obviously glad one task was off her hands. “Great! I’ve got to stop by the baby room, but then I’ll head back to the playground and get T-1 and T-2 ready to go for you.”

When they were alone again, Trenton spoke first. “Could I assist you with these mats?”

“No! Um, I—I mean, thank you,” she stuttered, covering her reaction and clutching the mat even tighter. “It won’t take me a minute to finish.”

“Uncle Trenton!”

The squeal could belong to no one but Amber. She barreled by Melodie, knocking the mat out of her hands and sending it crashing to the floor.

Joey came to a skidding halt behind his younger sister. “Hey, Uncle Trenton.” He glanced at the mat as if wondering whether he should pick it up.

Trenton bent for it at the same time Melodie did, and they knocked foreheads. They both raised fingers to their now-tender temples as Serena came hurrying up behind them. Her hand unit began hissing static, adding to the chaos.

“Serena? This is Ginger. Amber and Joey saw their uncle’s car and took off like jackrabbits. Are they up there?”

Serena keyed her walkie-talkie. “We got ‘em, Ginger. Don’t leave your class. They’re fine.”

“Tell those two rapscallions we’re going to have a little talk tomorrow.”

“Ten-four.”

Amber ducked her head and looked at her uncle from beneath her lashes. With her arms behind her back, she said, “I’m sorry, Uncle Trenton.”

Melodie took the moment to retrieve the mat and place it on the stack against the wall. The damage was done so there was no sense hiding any longer. As she walked back to the center of the room, she watched Trenton bend down on one knee and chuck the little girl under the chin.

“Don’t tell me you’re sorry, you little imp. Tell Miss Ginger.”

“I will. ‘Morrow.”

“Tomorrow, then.” He turned to Joey. “And you, young man—”

Joey’s expression fell. “I’m sorry, too.”

He pulled the boy into a short, fierce hug. “This is hardly the end of the world, guys. It’s only that the school is so big, you can’t just go running off.”

“I know, Uncle Trenton. I’ll apologize after Amber.”

“Good enough. Now, who wants to go with me to Kidstravaganza?”

Melodie rolled her eyes, thinking he might as well have asked who wanted to meet Mickey Mouse. Amber and Joey went into hyperactive mode, jumping and screaming enough to hurt her ears.

Amber suddenly stopped and turned her head from Uncle Trenton to Melodie and back again. “Can Miss Melodie go?”

“Oh, no, honey—” Melodie tried to break in.

“Pleeaase, Uncle Trenton?”

“Honey, I can’t—”

“She read your letter and told me she was gonna call you about the video. You could talk while Joey and I play,” Amber suggested innocently, her eyes as wide as she could make them.

Trenton looked at her and Melodie felt her breath catch.

“Miss Allford?”

“Melodie, please. And really, I can’t. I’m hardly dressed—”

He arched an eyebrow, once again taking in her leggings—pigs and all. “Oh, I think you’d be right at home.”

Darn, and she thought he might not have noticed her attire in the momentary confusion. But as she thought about it, it was her turn to arch a brow. She perceived a challenge in his voice. She could always plead that she had a class to teach, but it would be a lie. And she never lied. She might not always volunteer the whole story, but she never lied.

“Be that as it may, I’m not—”

“Pleeaase, Miss Melodie. Please go with us. It’ll be tons of fun. Please say you’ll go.”

If she hadn’t looked into Amber’s eyes, she might have held her ground, but Melodie rarely stood a chance against a child’s plea or a puppy’s whine. Which was why she avoided pet shops at all costs…

“Oh, all right.”

She knew the effort to have a meeting would be futile. An indoor playground was hardly conducive to business discussions, but she decided Amber’s hug would make the wasted afternoon worthwhile.

“You know Terminator-1, don’t you, Miss Allford?” Trenton asked, ruffling Joey’s hair.

Joey shied out from under the offending hand, trying not to show he liked the gesture.

“And I’m T-2,” Amber piped up, grinning from ear to ear.

Melodie smiled. “Yes, Joey and I have met, and we get along pretty well. Even if he does think dance is for sissies.”

“Really, Joey? I like to dance.”

“That’s not the same, Uncle Trenton. You do real dancing.”

Trent chuckled as he slipped his suit jacket back on, snapping the lapels neatly into place. “I have a feeling that postadolescence will alter your conviction on the subject, but for now, let’s go. We don’t want to take any chances on them running out of pizza.”

Melodie felt another heart tug as Trenton hefted T-2 into his arms. She realized she was holding her breath, waiting for him to scold Amber for wrinkling his suit, and was pleasantly surprised when he didn’t even seem to notice. She glanced down to snap her hip pouch around her waist, thankful her ducked head would hide any revealing expression on her face.

Everyone said goodbye to Serena and moved to the parking lot. A wave of the late June heat rolled off the concrete and hit Melodie like a slap. She stopped in her tracks and heaved a disgusted sigh. She wiped at the sweat already forming on her forehead, betting herself a nickel Mr. Perfect would never be so crass as to perspire in public.

“Hey, Trent. You know that old saying, ‘It’s not the heat, it’s the humidity’?”

Trenton stopped as well, turning toward her. “Yes?”

“Baloney. It’s the heat.”

His laugh was another thing that took her by surprise. It was deep and mellow and wrapped comfortably around her like a soft blanket. She mentally shook her head. Scratch that simile. Make that a cool breeze.

“Would you like to go in one car? That is, if you can stand being in confined quarters with these two miniature whirlwinds.”

She declined politely. “I think I’ll follow. Thanks anyway.” She felt no need to explain to him that one of her rules was to never allow herself to be dependent on another person.

“Do you know where the establishment is?”

“They’re only running advertisements on the television every five minutes. Yes, I know where it is.”

“Good. Shall we meet there in…say, twenty minutes?”

She had the absurd urge to affect an English accent and say, “Right ho, old boy.” Instead, she said, “That sounds great.”

He stopped again and looked at her. “Miss Allford—”

For heaven’s sake, didn’t the man know how to loosen up? They were going to a playground and he was acting as if she were his teacher instead of Amber’s.

“Look, if you keep calling me Miss Allford, you’re going to regret it.”

A mocking smile played at the corner of his mouth. “That sounds vaguely threatening, Miss Allford.”

“There’s nothing vague about it at all, T.J.”

Trenton winced. “I concede the point. Melodie.”

She smiled as she turned, shrugging a shoulder at him. “Good. See you in a few.”

Melodie opened the door to her aging compact and let some of the blisteringly hot air dissipate. Not that it mattered much. Without air-conditioning, the car was always on the wrong side of miserable from June until October. But no use complaining about it. A new car was just going to have to wait until she paid off the new air conditioner she’d bought for the house, figuring driving in the heat was preferable to sleeping in it.

She felt a moment of envy as Trenton and the kids flashed by in a dark blue luxury car, windows rolled up tightly. Then she reminded herself that if the price of owning a nice vehicle was being like Mr. Stodgy, she didn’t want to pay it.

Of course, it was easier to be smug in December…

As they headed out of the parking lot, Melodie pushed away a fleeting wish that she could have changed into something a little less dramatic. But that was water under the bridge. Better to make the best of it and get this over with.

Two

Trenton nodded as the quartet claimed a table in one of the large eating rooms. It appeared they had arrived at a most propitious time. The majority of the day-care groups were leaving, and the after-work crowd had yet to arrive as it was only four o’clock.

The ambiance was exactly as he had expected, which pleased Trenton. He didn’t like surprises.

Behind sound-reducing sheets of clear Plexiglas, parents and other nonparticipants could watch the fun being had on the giant plastic activity centers, each one a different, brilliant primary color.

What made Kidstravaganza unique was its policy of encouraging parents to play with their kids. Of the three sections, only one was designated exclusively for children. The other two were built on a larger scale—still inviting to small folk, but with tubes and entries large enough for an adult to join in.

Amber and Joey were almost beside themselves to go into the play area. Miss Allford…um, Melodie…looked decidedly less enthusiastic than the children, but he sensed mixed signals from her. He could swear that she would love to dive into the vat of plastic balls right behind the first child, so he assumed it was his presence that had her twisting the hem of her tie-dyed T-shirt with a purple-tinted fingernail. He noted absently that the ring finger of her left hand was bare, but he knew in this day and time that didn’t mean much.

He assured himself that his perusal for a wedding band was simply habit, for although Melodie was a beautiful woman, she was a little more…flamboyant than he was used to. He was still surprised at the evolution of his reactions to women over the past year. His criteria had changed into something quite different than when he’d been merely dating. Now that he was almost forty, he was looking for more than a fun evening with a woman. He wanted to find that special someone to love and build a family with.

He noticed that habits barely recognized before bothered him now. For instance, when a woman wore too much perfume. He decided that would upset a baby. Or when someone was too thin. The mother of his children had to be health-conscious, not consumed by dress size. In fact, one of his recent patterns was to take his prospective candidates to functions where children would be present to see how they reacted. He wasn’t vain, but neither was he coy—he knew that in the dating game all parties tended to put on their best fronts and he didn’t want to waste precious time with someone who claimed she loved kids, when in fact, she didn’t.

Looking at Joey and Amber, he knew one thing for certain: he wanted a couple of towheaded imps running around his house, causing general chaos and filling his life the way these two did his sister’s. He had stepped in and helped Bridgette these past few years, but the fact remained that although Amber and Joey loved him, he was only their uncle, not their dad.

Now that Bridgette had reclaimed her confidence and joy, he was sure she wouldn’t stay in Austin forever. He expected an engagement announcement from her and Glen any day, especially with Glen making noises about moving with his job. Trenton liked the guy, and it didn’t hurt that Glen adored Bridgette and doted on Joey and Amber.

He glanced at Melodie and wondered how she felt about kids. He had every reason to guess she adored them or she would hardly have picked teaching them as a profession. But, then, he knew appearances could be deceiving. She might just as easily be locked into a job she hated because she didn’t have any other options. Millions of people went to work every day fitting that description. Watching her, though, he didn’t think she was one of them. She looked at Amber with too much tenderness, and her fingers were so gentle when she brushed his niece’s overlong bangs out of her face. Even with Joey, who had so indelicately insulted dancing as a whole, Melodie seemed amused.

It spoke well of her, but only added to his confusion. His picture so far was incongruous. He assumed that would change when they got a chance to talk. She had such a delicate face, her eyes a haunting mixture of caution and joy, as if she wanted to greet life with open arms but had been taught to keep her hands carefully at her sides. She was a soft touch with the kids, but she looked at him now and again with a hard reserve, as if preparing to do battle. If he’d seen a picture of her from the neck up, he would have expected to find her in a soft, flowing dress that dipped in front in a delicate heart shape. Instead, she appeared in leggings that had pigs embroidered on them.

Pigs!

But those pigs marched down an incredible set of legs. They clung to thighs and calves that were long and sleek, with muscles that were toned and taut.

Made a man think he just might not mind being a pig.

And the T-shirt would have been painful to look at for long stretches, except that the material was soft and lay against her feminine curves in a gentle caress. It might be loose fitting, but he was confident it hid firm, high breasts that begged to be kissed. Her nipples would be rosy and would harden instantly when his tongue—

Trenton shook his head. Good heavens, what had gotten into him? It took an effort to pull his thoughts back on track and remind himself that although his first impressions were favorable, she was not an appropriate candidate for consideration as a future wife so he could stop the preliminary interview that instant.