a home of his own was something he never intended to be without again.
“I…don’t have a place,” she admitted, looking a little sheepish. “I know it sounds bad, but I couldn’t see any sense in paying for the upkeep on my parents’ home or rent on an apartment when I’d only be there a few days out of the month.”
Reaching out, he took hold of the mare’s reins as he stopped both horses. “Let me get this straight. You live out of hotel rooms and you don’t have a place to call your own?” When she nodded, he asked, “Where do you keep your things?”
“What I can’t pack into the two suitcases I take on the road with me, like furniture and family keepsakes, I keep in a storage unit in Topanga, California, not far from where my parents lived.” When he turned loose of the buckskin’s reins and they continued on toward the trail leading down into the canyon, she added, “It’s much cheaper than paying to keep them in an apartment I’d never use.”
Shocked by her revelation, he shook his head. “So for all intents and purposes, you’re homeless.”
“I guess it could be construed that way.” She nibbled on her lower lip a moment as if she might be bothered by it more than she was letting on. “But as long as I’m traveling like I do, I don’t mind.”
“How long have you lived this way?” he asked, still trying to wrap his mind around what she had told him.
“About three years.”
He had been friends with her all that time and not once had he suspected that she lived the life of a nomad. What else was there about her that he didn’t know? And how the hell did she plan on taking care of a baby with that kind of lifestyle?
When they reached the canyon’s rim, they fell silent as Ryder rode the bay ahead of her to lead the way to the meadow below. But he couldn’t stop thinking about her lack of roots. Why did she want a baby when she didn’t even have a home? What was she going to do with the poor little thing, raise it in a series of hotel rooms while they traveled from one rodeo to the next for her job? That wasn’t any kind of a life for a little kid.
Ryder didn’t know what her reasoning was, but he had every intention of finding out. He knew from personal experience that it was important to a kid to have a place to call home.
Leading the way to the spot along the bank that he had in mind for their picnic, he reined in the gelding. “How does this look?”
“It’s great,” she said, stopping the buckskin mare beside his horse. “There’s plenty of shade.” She pointed toward one of the cottonwoods. “And under that tree looks like the perfect place to put the blanket.”
Dismounting the bay, he dropped the reins to groundtie the horse, then moved to retrieve the rolled blanket he had tied to the back of the gelding’s saddle, along with the insulated saddlebags holding their lunch. From the corner of his eye, he watched Summer jump down from the mare’s back and start doing some stretches to loosen up after the ride.
He briefly wondered if she was having muscle cramps, but he quickly forgot all about her possible discomfort as he watched her stretch from side to side, then bend over to touch her toes. Her jeans pulled tight over her perfect little bottom caused his mouth to go as dry as a desert in a drought. When she straightened, then placed her hands on her hips to lean back and relieve pressure on her lower back, he sucked in a sharp breath. Her motions caused her chest to stick out and for the first time since he had known her, he noticed how full and perfect her breasts were.
Ryder muttered a curse under his breath and forced himself to look away. This was Summer. She was his best friend and he’d never thought of her in a romantic light. So why now was he suddenly taking notice of her delightful backside and enticing breasts?
Disgusted with himself, he shook his head and tucking the picnic blanket under his arm, finished unfastening the insulated saddlebags from the bay’s saddle and carted everything over to the spot beneath the cottonwood that Summer had pointed out. His fascination with her feminine attributes was probably due to the fact that he hadn’t been with a woman in longer than he cared to remember—and he’d have to be blind not to notice that Summer was a damned good-looking woman with a set of curves that could tempt a eunuch. He wasn’t at all comfortable thinking of her in that way, but there was no denying it either.
As he set the saddlebags down and unfolded the blanket to spread it out on the ground, he gave some thought to his dilemma. He was a normal, healthy adult male who, like any other man, needed to occasionally get lost in a woman’s softness. Once he got back out on the rodeo circuit, he needed to take a trip to one of the local watering holes in whatever town he was in and strike up a cozy little acquaintance with a woman who wasn’t looking for anything more than a real good time. Maybe then he would stop having inappropriate thoughts about his best friend.
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