Thunder Canyon Homecoming / A Thunder Canyon Christmas: Thunder Canyon Homecoming

He slid an arm across her shoulders and steered her toward his truck. “What happened, darlin’? Were you traumatized by a clown jumping out of your cake on your fifth birthday?”

“Nothing so dramatic. I just like to have a plan, and I don’t like when things interfere with my plans.”

He opened the passenger-side door for her. “Didn’t John Lennon say something about life being what happens while you’re making other plans?”

“Maybe that worked for him,” she acknowledged, “but it’s a strange philosophy for a management consultant.”

“It’s not my business philosophy,” he told her. “But when I’m out of the office, I don’t like being shackled by rules and schedules.”

She stepped up into the truck, obviously thinking about his response. He closed her door, then went around to the driver’s side.

“My aunt died,” she finally said.

He paused in the act of inserting the key into the ignition. “Today? Is that why you called into work?”

She shook her head. “No. A few months ago.” She folded her hands, staring down at the fingers linked together in her lap. “You asked why I don’t like surprises. Her death was a surprise. And she gave me some information just before she passed that was…unexpected. I had so many questions that I never got to ask her.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know how hard it is to lose someone out of the blue, feeling as if you’d left something unresolved.”

She looked at him, as if surprised by his response. “Who did you lose?”

“My father.”

“I didn’t realize—” She frowned. “I should have. When you introduced your mother and her husband, I just assumed your parents were divorced.”

He shook his head. “My dad died in an explosion on an oil rig when I was eight. The last time I saw him, before he went to work that day, he swatted my butt for talking back to my mother. When he walked out the door, I was happy to see him go.”

She touched a hand to his arm, and when she spoke, her voice was gentle. “You were eight,” she reminded him.

“I know. I got over the guilt a long time ago but only after I’d carried it around for a lot of years first.” He frowned.

Her hand dropped away. “What’s wrong?”

“I was just thinking that it’s mighty easy to talk to you.”

“It is?”

“I haven’t ever told anyone that story. Not anyone outside of the family, anyway.”

“Sometimes it’s easier to talk to someone who isn’t close to a situation.”

He turned into the long, winding drive that led to the Hopping H Ranch. “And sometimes a man just doesn’t have the sense to hold his tongue around a beautiful woman.”

Her cheeks flushed. “I might be a California girl, but I’ve heard plenty of stories about you smooth-talking cowboys to know that I’d be a fool to trust even half of the words that slide off of that glib tongue.”

He pressed a hand to his heart as he pulled into a vacant parking spot. “Now you’ve wounded me.”

The look of patent disbelief that she aimed in his direction changed to something more akin to wariness when she realized where he’d brought her.

Chapter Four

“This is Melanie and Russ’s ranch.”

Though it wasn’t a question, Corey nodded anyway.

“What are we doing here?”

“I would have thought that was obvious.” He got out of the truck and came around to her side.

This time Erin hadn’t jumped out ahead of him. In fact, she didn’t look like she had any intention of getting out at all. She hadn’t even unfastened her seatbelt, so he reached across to release the clasp for her.

“This isn’t a good idea,” she said.

“Why not?”

“Because I already missed work today. I don’t want to miss tomorrow, too, because I’m in a body cast in the hospital.”

“You can’t ride?” He deliberately infused his tone with both surprise and disbelief and a hint of challenge.

“Of course, I can ride,” she said, then added, “waves.”

“Waves?”

“I grew up on the coast, not in cowboy country,” she reminded him.

The mention of surfing had distracted him with thoughts of Erin clad in a skimpy little bikini, her hair slicked back, her skin wet and glistening as she balanced on a longboard. He knew it was more likely that she wore a wetsuit and figured she’d probably look just as enticing in a full bodysuit of neoprene that hugged her feminine curves, but a man was entitled to his fantasies and Erin in a bikini was definitely one of his. Peeling the little scraps of fabric from her damp skin was another.

“Well, you’re in cowboy country now,” he said, forcing the all-too tempting images from his mind.

“I’m aware of that,” she said, just as Russ came out of the barn.

The rancher came over to shake hands with Corey and Erin.

“Thanks for accommodating us,” Corey said.

“Always a pleasure,” Russ assured him.

Erin remained silent, wary.

“I’ve got Lucifer and Jax all saddled up and ready to go, but you just let me know if you need anything else.”

“Will do,” Corey promised.

And Russ disappeared into the barn again.

“Lucifer?”

Corey pointed out the spirited black stallion in a nearby enclosure. “And here—” he guided her to a closer paddock “—is Jax.”