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

“You’re here with me,” he pointed out. “And if you’d accepted my original invitation, the only thing that would have been different is that we would have shared our first dance sooner.”

“First dance?”

He grinned. “Yeah, I’m counting on there being more.”

She smiled back, not protesting his assumption this time. Then her gaze slid away, caught by something across the room. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that it wasn’t a “something” but “someone”—her boss, Grant Clifton. But it wasn’t the direction of her gaze that bothered him so much as the brief glimpse of yearning that he read in her eyes.

Then she focused on her plate again, and Corey was left to wonder if he’d just imagined the longing he thought he’d seen. He hoped so. He sure as heck didn’t want to think that she was lusting after a man who was his friend, her boss and married to boot.

However, it would explain why she’d been resistant to his overtures. Not that he thought he was irresistible, but in his experience, most women were flattered by his attention and often sought him out, and he’d been trying to figure out why Erin seemed impervious to his legendary charms.

He’d considered the usual reasons—she was just getting over a failed relationship, she didn’t like the color of his hair or his eyes, she thought he was too tall/too short or too young/too old, or she just wasn’t attracted to him—although he’d discarded that possibility after their first kiss because he knew that a woman couldn’t kiss a man the way she’d kissed him if she didn’t feel at least some degree of attraction. It had never occurred to him that she might be infatuated with her boss.

“How’s your sandwich?” Erin asked.

“Great,” he said, and picked it up again.

They chatted casually as they finished their lunches. He noticed that Erin was both attentive and entertaining, her focus never again wavering. Maybe he had imagined the look she’d sent in Grant’s direction. Maybe she’d actually been looking at someone else’s lunch—or their dessert. He’d dated a lot of women who looked enviously at the cheesecake on someone else’s plate but refused to order their own.

“Dessert?” he asked her.

There was still a handful of fries on Erin’s plate when she pushed it aside, shaking her head. “I couldn’t eat another bite.”

“Not even a tiny slice of pecan turtle pie?”

She sighed wistfully. “As much as I love DJ’s pecan turtle pie, I know they don’t serve tiny slices.”

He flagged down their server and ordered a slice anyway, asking for it to be boxed so Erin could take it home.

The cake was delivered along with his credit card slip, and Corey slid the dessert across the table to her.

“I really don’t need the three thousand calories in this box,” she told him. “But I’ll say ‘thank you’ anyway, knowing that I will savor every last bite while I’m watching American Idol tonight.”

“What do you watch on Fridays?” Corey asked, as they headed out of the restaurant.

“Nothing in particular.”

“Then how about catching a movie with me?” he suggested.

“What movie?” she asked.

“I don’t even know what’s showing,” he admitted.

“I would have expected you to find that out before you decided you wanted to go.”

“I just thought it would be fun to go to a movie with you.”

“I don’t like horror flicks,” she warned him.

“You could snuggle up to me during the scary parts.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

She laughed but shook her head. “All the parts are scary parts, and I’d have nightmares for a week.”

“Okay, no horror flicks,” he promised.

“And I’m not big on sci-fi, either.”

He nodded his understanding. “Aliens can be pretty scary.”

Her gaze narrowed. “Are you mocking me?”

“Of course not,” he said, but his lips twitched as he tried not to smile.

“Just for that, you have to buy the popcorn.”

“It would be my pleasure,” he told her, and he meant it.

She eyed him warily. “What are we doing, Corey?”

“Setting up a date.”

“Is it that simple?”

“For now.” They were back at the reception desk, and as much as he wanted to linger, he knew she needed to get back to work. “I’ll give you a call to let you know what time on Friday.”

“Okay,” she agreed. “Thanks for lunch.”

As she started around the counter, he caught her hand. She looked up at him, questioning, and he bent his head to touch his lips to hers. It was a quick and easy kiss that was over before she could think to protest about the inappropriateness of him kissing her at work.

“It was my pleasure,” he said, and walked away with a smile on his face.

Chapter Seven

He called her on Wednesday, ostensibly to discuss the movie schedule for Friday night. They talked for more than an hour.

They went to the local theater on Friday to see a romantic comedy that Erin had expressed an interest in. Corey grumbled about “chick flicks” throughout the drive back to her condo, but she’d heard him laugh out loud at different parts of the film so she knew he was only teasing.

Because she’d missed work on Monday, she agreed to cover Carrie’s shift Saturday morning. She planned to spend the afternoon catching up on the chores she’d neglected during the week—most notably her grocery shopping and housecleaning. But Corey’s truck was in her driveway when she got home from the Super Saver Mart, and when he asked her to go horseback riding again, it sounded a lot more fun than scrubbing her shower.

Afterward, they picked up a pizza and a bottle of wine and took them back to Erin’s. As she sat beside him on the couch, watching the flames flicker in the fireplace, she found it hard to believe that she’d only met him a week earlier. So much time seemed to have passed since then.

Sunday morning she awoke to find the snow blowing outside of her windows and decided that the near-blizzard conditions were reason not to venture out of the house. But Corey had no similar qualms because he came over shortly after lunch with some movies he’d rented, and they spent the rest of the afternoon snuggled together on her couch, munching popcorn and watching the original Star Wars trilogy. Because, despite her admitted lack of appreciation for the sci-fi genre, he somehow managed to convince her that the George Lucas masterpieces couldn’t be so simply classified, and she soon found herself deeply engrossed in the movies.

As the final credits of The Empire Strikes Back scrolled on the screen, Erin’s stomach began to grumble. Glancing at the glowing numbers on the DVD player, she was surprised to realize how quickly the afternoon had gone and it seemed natural to invite Corey to stay for dinner. Though she hadn’t consciously thought about it while she’d been grocery shopping the day before, she’d picked up all the necessary ingredients for her mom’s famous enchiladas and Corey seemed pleased by her invitation and happy to eat with her.

After dinner, they tidied up the kitchen together, but when Corey suggested that he should head out, Erin was the one to protest. She wanted to know if Leia succeeded in rescuing Han, to which Corey reminded her that the movie was about a lot more than a romantic subplot. But, of course, he put the third movie on.

It was late by the time he finally said good-night, and several inches of snow had fallen. Erin cringed at the sight of the white stuff covering her car and her driveway, but she decided to ignore it until the morning. Corey wouldn’t hear of it though and, after locating a shovel in the garage, insisted on clearing her steps and driveway. Although she appreciated not having to do it herself, she wasn’t sure how she felt about his insistence on taking charge.