Cowboy Up. Vicki Thompson Lewis

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times I did, although I don’t like admitting that. Besides, he was born to be a dad, and I haven’t given him much chance at that. Knowing you were here relieved my feelings of guilt.”

      “Still, I’ll bet you got tired of hearing about my accomplishments.”

      She shrugged. “It’s hardly your fault that I’m not focused like you and can’t for the life of me figure out a career. My dad’s not likely to brag about my surfing ability, so that leaves him with nothing to boast about when it comes to his only child.”

      “Do you have a job?”

      “Of course I have a job. How do you think I support myself?”

      He decided not to mention that he’d been convinced she didn’t support herself, that she was living off the money Emmett sent her every month. She might not appreciate knowing that most everyone at the Last Chance knew he sent checks and wondered why when he was no longer financially obligated. They all assumed Emily was living on that money, or at the very least, only working part-time to supplement his generosity.

      But her finances and her job situation were absolutely none of his business. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I was out of line starting this conversation in the first place, and we have a lot of work to do before your dad comes home. We should get going.” He started back down the hall.

      “Going where?” She lengthened her strides to keep up with him. “You still haven’t told me the plan.”

      Briefly he outlined the details. He wondered if she’d find it hokey, but she responded with enthusiasm.

      “That sounds like so much fun! Sometimes we have bonfires on the beach and cookouts, too. Usually somebody brings a docking station for their iPod instead of having live music, but a guitar player sounds terrific. Will there be dancing?”

      “That’s an excellent question. Knowing the Chance family, there should be dancing.”

      “Yay! I love to dance. I…just realized that I have no idea if my dad dances or not. I should know that, shouldn’t I?”

      “Not if you’ve never been around when dancing was part of the program.” He reached the front door and opened it for her.

      “Thanks.” She tossed her hair back over her shoulder and smiled at him. “I’m enjoying all the gallantry around here.”

      “Sarah insists on it, and besides, it’s the cowboy way to show respect toward a woman.” He stepped onto the porch and closed the door behind him. That’s when he looked out at the circular drive and noticed her convertible, top still down, leather upholstery exposed to the sun.

      He couldn’t stand it. “Do you have your car keys with you?”

      “No, but I can get them. Is my car in the way?”

      “You can leave it there, but you need to put the top up. You’ll ruin the leather seats.”

      “It’s stuck.”

      He glanced over at her. “Permanently?”

      “I don’t know. I pulled over at a rest stop around eight last night and decided to put the top down for the rest of the way, so I’d be sure and stay awake. When I got here, it wouldn’t go back up. I meant to say something to my dad this morning, but he was so excited about the barn tour and then I got interested, too. My convertible wasn’t a top priority.”

      Once again, Clay had been guilty of assumptions. He needed to stop making them when it came to Emily. “We don’t have time to fix it now, but if you’ll get your keys, you can put it in the tractor barn so at least it’s out of the sun. The tables and benches are stored down there, so drive on down and I’ll meet you.”

      “Good idea.” She glanced at the BMW. “It’s eight years old, and things go wrong with it. My mom found it in the paper and thought I should have a classy car, but sometimes I think I’d be better off with something more practical.”

      Clay couldn’t agree more, but he could tell the purchase had been more about pleasing her mother than pleasing herself. Emily Sterling didn’t fit into the box he’d created for her, and that might put him on dangerous ground.

      Ignoring her sexy body was one thing. Resisting a cry for help from someone who wasn’t sure of her place in the world would be much more difficult. He’d been there, and no one should have to face that kind of insecurity alone.

      4

      EMILY FETCHED HER KEYS from her room and roasted her fanny driving the convertible down to the tractor barn. Maybe that was just as well. Searing her backside might serve as a reminder that little girls who moved too close to the fire could get burned.

      No matter which way she looked at it, giving in to her instincts with Clay wouldn’t be a good thing. Oh, except for the obvious, which involved glorious sex with a guy who had hero written all over him. The catch was just as obvious.

      If her dad found out, no doubt he’d be disappointed in her. She couldn’t imagine that he’d condone a superficial fling with Clay, and that’s all it would amount to. She didn’t want to disappoint her father any more than she already had.

      Even worse, he might be disappointed with the apple of his eye, Clay Whitaker. The two men had a special relationship, and she had the power to ruin it. No doubt her dad had told Clay that a Wyoming man should steer clear of a California girl. Emmett certainly wouldn’t want to see history repeating itself with his own daughter.

      So she was faced with an afternoon in the company of a man she found wildly sexy, yet she couldn’t do anything about it. To make matters even more complicated, he showed definite signs of a mutual attraction. She could tell by his heated looks, the tone of his voice and the occasional bulge in his jeans.

      Knowing he didn’t quite approve of her wasn’t the turnoff for her that it should have been, either. No doubt about it, Clay would have preferred a cowgirl who fulfilled all of Emmett’s unspoken dreams. Instead she was a city girl who spent her free time riding a surfboard instead of a horse.

      Despite that, Clay wanted her, and Emily had the uncharitable urge to show him how a California surfer girl could destroy his control. Let him disapprove of her all he wanted—she’d bet that, given the opportunity, she could make him crazy with lust. It would be satisfying, indeed, if she could reduce him to begging for the chance to sink into her hot body.

      She approached the large metal tractor barn. Clay had driven a dark blue pickup to the entrance and was letting down the tailgate as she drove past him. It was a simple task, so how come he looked so sexy doing it? She’d never made out in the bed of a pickup, but she wouldn’t mind giving it a try with Clay.

      By the time she pulled into the shadowed interior of the tractor barn, her hormones were dancing to a hip-hop beat and her noble intentions had taken a hike up the trail into the Grand Tetons. To hell with an uncomfortable truck bed. Her BMW was a four-passenger with a backseat, and she was ready to invite Clay to join her there. But that was such a bad idea.

      Gripping the leather-wrapped steering wheel, she closed her eyes and willed herself back to sanity. She’d driven here to celebrate her dad’s sixtieth birthday, a major milestone. She would not muck it up by having sex with his protégé, no matter how yummy the guy was.

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