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Thunder Canyon Homecoming

Brenda Harlen

A Thunder Canyon Christmas

RaeAnne Thayne

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Thunder Canyon Homecoming

Brenda Harlen

Dear reader,

Long before I ever wrote my first book, I was a reader—and especially a reader of romance novels. From Victoria Alexander to JR Ward and all authors and genres in between, I love nothing more than to lose myself in a good love story. And a good love story with a cowboy hero is especially irresistible to me, so I was thrilled to be part of the MONTANA MAVERICKS: THUNDER CANYON COWBOYS continuity.

Maybe Corey Traub isn’t a full-time cowboy, but he has the attitude and the swagger and more than enough sex appeal to set Erin Castro’s heart pounding. But she came to Thunder Canyon looking for answers, and the last thing she needs is a romance with a too-sexy-for-his-own good cowboy—even if that turns out to be exactly what she wants…

I hope you enjoy Corey and Erin’s story and that you have as much fun visiting Thunder Canyon as I did.

Happy reading,

Brenda Harlen

About the Author

BRENDA HARLEN grew up in a small town surrounded by books and imaginary friends. Although she always dreamed of being a writer, she chose to follow a more traditional career path first. After two years of practicing as an attorney (including an appearance in front of the Supreme Court of Canada), she gave up her “real” job to be a mom and to try her hand at writing books. Three years, five manuscripts and another baby later, she sold her first book—an RWA Golden Heart winner—to Silhouette Books.

Brenda lives in southern Ontario with her real-life husband/hero, two heroes-in-training and two neurotic dogs. She is still surrounded by books (too many books, according to her children) and imaginary friends, but she also enjoys communicating with “real” people. Readers can contact Brenda by e-mail at brendaharlen@yahoo.com.

For two of my most loyal readers:

Marjorie Gennings, a wonderful aunt who has been there for me through every stage in my life; and

Marilyn Bellfontaine, a true friend who has supported my career not only from the beginning but “above and beyond.”

And with sincere appreciation to the other authors in this series for sharing histories, brainstorming details, answering last-minute questions, and making this project such an enjoyable one.

Chapter One

Erin Castro stood at the front of the church and tried not to fidget.

It was Erika and Dillon’s wedding day and she knew that the attention of all of the guests was focused on the bride and groom, but since she’d arrived in Thunder Canyon, she’d worked hard to blend in and couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable with so many eyes turned in her direction.

Her fidgeting fingers found the wide ribbon that bound her bouquet. The satin was smooth and cool, and the rhythmic winding and unwinding of it gave her something to concentrate on rather than the crowd of onlookers.

When she’d come to town a few months earlier, she’d had two suitcases in the trunk of her secondhand Kia, a newspaper clipping in the pocket of her faded jeans and absolutely no clue how to begin the quest she had set herself upon. Then she’d seen the “Help Wanted” sign in the front window of The Hitching Post and had taken the first step in her journey.

She’d worked with Haley Anderson at the restaurant and when Erin mentioned that she didn’t want to live at the Big Sky Motel forever, Haley had helped her find an apartment. With both her job and housing concerns alleviated, Erin had believed that she was meant to stay. A few weeks later, she learned of a position available at the Thunder Canyon Resort. Realizing that the more people she encountered, the more likely she was to find someone who might have answers to the questions that prompted her trip from San Diego, Erin willingly took on the second job. When she started working a lot of overtime at the resort, she’d had to give up the waitressing job, but she had no regrets. It was at the resort that she’d met Erika Rodriguez, who was now exchanging vows with Dillon Traub.

She was happy that her friend was marrying the man of her dreams, but she couldn’t help wishing that she was watching the nuptials from somewhere in the back of the church rather than the front. She wound the ribbon around her finger again as her eyes moved restlessly over the assembled crowd, focusing more on the stunning white décor of the winter wonderland setting than on any of the guests.

Her thoughts and her gaze continued to wander, until caught by the hot, intense stare of Corey Traub—the groom’s brother.

Her breath stalled, and her heart pounded.

She’d met Corey the night before at the rehearsal. And her response to his presence had been just as powerful then as now—and just as unwelcome.

Her reasons for coming to Thunder Canyon hadn’t included any thoughts of romantic entanglements. Especially not so closely on the heels of the end of another relationship.

She knew that her mother had harbored great expectations for the future of her almost-twenty-six-year-old (read “virtually unmarriageable”) daughter and the man she’d already envisioned as the perfect (read “willing to marry her daughter”) son-in-law. And while it shouldn’t have been so difficult to end a relationship that meant more to Betty than it did to her, it had been tough. More so than she’d expected. She’d always felt as if she hovered on the periphery of her family. She couldn’t have said why she felt that way—it wasn’t anything specific anyone had said or done, it was just a sense that she didn’t quite belong, and she desperately wanted to belong. And perhaps on some level, she’d thought—hoped—that a good marriage would give her the gold star she’d longed for.

As the youngest child and the only daughter, her parents didn’t have the same expectations of her that they had of their sons. One of the few things they expected was that she would meet a nice man and start a family. After only a few weeks of dating, Trevor had told her that he wanted to get married.

He’d laughed at the shocked expression on her face, then explained that he wasn’t actually proposing to her. He was just putting it out there, he said, so she understood what he was looking for and so that she could let him know if she didn’t want the same thing.

She wanted to want the same thing. She tried to make herself feel more for him than she did because she knew that her parents would approve of Trevor and she really wanted to be approved of. But in the end, she couldn’t stay with a man whose kisses left her unmoved. She couldn’t plan a future with a man whose touch made her want to pull away rather than press closer. She knew that physical attraction was only one aspect of a relationship, but she couldn’t imagine building a long-term relationship with a man without ever feeling that little quiver in the pit of her belly.

As she looked into Corey Traub’s espresso-colored eyes, she felt that quiver—and a whole lot more. There was a crackle and sizzle in the air that assured her his kisses would not leave her unmoved.

When his gaze drifted to her mouth and his own lips curved, she knew that his thoughts were following a similar path to her own. Her body’s response was strong and swift, and she was shocked by the purely visceral reaction.

She wasn’t the type of woman who got swept away by passion. She wasn’t sure she even believed in the kind of all-consuming passion that could sweep a woman away. She’d certainly never experienced anything like it before. And what was wrong with her that she was having such thoughts about a man she barely knew—and during her friend’s wedding, no less?

She resisted the urge to lift the bouquet of flowers to her face and use it as a fan to cool the heat that had suddenly infused her cheeks.

“…I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

The minister’s voice broke through Erin’s reverie and refocused her attention.

“You may kiss your bride,” he told the groom.

She watched Dillon as he lowered his head toward Erika’s, and the obvious love and happiness in his eyes brought tears to Erin’s. Standing behind Erika, she couldn’t see the expression on her friend’s face, but she knew Erika’s eyes would reflect the same emotion and joy. Erika had been floating on cloud nine since she’d finally accepted that Dillon loved her and admitted that she felt the same way about him. This wedding was just the icing on the cake—a public ceremony to affirm the love they shared and formalize the commitment they’d already made to one another.

Erin was surprised to realize that she envied her friend. Surprised to realize that getting married and starting a family might not be as far down on her list of priorities as she’d suspected. Of course, she’d have to fall in love first, and she wasn’t looking for any kind of personal involvement right now.

She’d never been all the way in love before. Sure, she’d experienced attraction and infatuation and there had even been a time or two when she’d thought what she was feeling might be love. But when those relationships had ended and she’d felt more relief than regret, she’d known it wasn’t. And the relief had given way to doubt as she wondered if she would ever know the intensity of emotion that was supposed to be love.

Her parents had it—she recognized it in the looks that passed between them, the casual touches they exchanged, the secret smiles they shared. Even after more than thirty years of marriage, there was an enduring bond of both at traction and affection between them that Erin someday hoped to find with someone.

Of course, her life was too unsettled right now to be making any kind of long-term plans, but…someday.

She glanced at Corey again and found his eyes still on her. Her future might be uncertain, but she wasn’t immune to the attraction of a handsome man.

And she found herself wondering what it would be like to be held by him, kissed by him. She wanted him to take her in his arms and hold her tight against his hard body until she was breathless. Which would take all of about half a second considering that just the thought of kissing him stole all the air from her lungs.

She tore her gaze from his and forced the treacherously enticing thoughts from her mind.

Because she had no doubt that the six-foot-tall oil heir had kissed more than his fair share of women and she had no intention of joining the undoubtedly long line of willing women he had left behind. And he would be leaving—he might have family in Thunder Canyon, but his home was in Texas and her home was…well, she hadn’t quite figured that out yet.

Which was just one more reason that any kind of involvement with Corey Traub would be both foolish and reckless.

When the bride and groom’s kiss finally ended, even the minister was smiling his approval. Then he turned to the assembly and said, “Ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to introduce to you Dr. and Mrs. Dillon Traub.”

The guests all rose to their feet and applauded.

Dillon took Erika’s hand with one of his and held out the other to Emilia, his two-year-old stepdaughter. The little girl’s bright, happy smile made Erin smile, too. Her friend had harbored doubts about Dillon’s willingness to be a father to someone else’s child, but the sexy doctor had proved that he wasn’t just ready to step up but was eager to do so, and it was obvious to everyone present that the bride and groom and tiny flower girl were already a family.

Erin felt an ache in her heart as she thought of her own family and the questions that had brought her to Thunder Canyon. Questions that remained, after more than three months in town, unanswered.

Her parents still didn’t understand what had precipitated her sudden decision to pack up and head to Montana. She’d claimed dissatisfaction with her job and the relationship with Trevor, but she knew they were worried, that they felt she should have tried to change the situation rather than run away from it. But after her last meeting with Aunt Erma, only hours before the elderly woman passed away, she’d realized that she needed answers her parents couldn’t—or wouldn’t—give her. Answers that might finally explain why she’d always felt a little out of place in her own family.

You need to find your family. Her aunt’s words echoed in her mind. They’re in Thunder Canyon.

Erin had been as stunned as she was skeptical, especially when Erma didn’t provide any more information. As for the newspaper clipping the elderly woman had given to her, Erin still didn’t know what to make of that. She didn’t have a clue which of the families in the photo—if any—might be able to help her find the answers she sought, and Erma hadn’t steered her in a specific direction.

She hadn’t shown the clipping to her parents—a decision that she continued to wrestle with. But both Jack and Betty had been dismissive of Erma’s claims. When Erin had asked if she’d been adopted, her mother had offered to show off the stretch marks and unsightly veins that were her reward for the nine months that she’d carried her daughter.

But there was something about Erma’s words that haunted Erin in a way she didn’t understand and couldn’t disregard.

If she wasn’t adopted, maybe her parents had gone through a rough patch in their marriage and her mother had been involved with someone else. It had taken a lot more courage to ask Betty about that possibility, but her mother had actually laughed, assuring Erin that there had never been anyone before her father and never anyone since.

Still, she couldn’t help but feel that there had to be some kind of foundation for Erma’s conviction. Unfortunately, her aunt’s death had left Erin with a lot of doubts and uncertainties, countered only by her determination to find the truth once and for all.

“Shall we?”

The question jolted her out of her reverie and made her realize that the bride and groom had already started down the aisle. She forgot about Erma and all of her reasons for coming to Thunder Canyon when she settled her hand in the crook of Corey’s elbow.

She concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other as she followed Dillon and Erika and Emilia, refusing to look at the groom’s brother. But as they approached the doorway, Corey pulled her a little closer to negotiate the narrow opening, and she shivered.

Thankfully, the cool November afternoon gave her a ready excuse for the goose bumps on her flesh, even if she knew they were more a response to the man at her side than the chilly weather. But she had no intention of being distracted from her fact-finding mission by anything or anyone—not even the groom’s far-too-sexy brother.

It was torture, riding beside him in the limousine on the way to the resort for the reception. Although there were only five of them in a ten-passenger limo—and one of those five a child buckled into a car seat—the interior of the vehicle felt small to Erin. Or maybe it was that Corey was so big.

She shifted on the seat so that she was pressed against the side of the car. But she could still feel the heat of his body and smell a hint of his aftershave, and she couldn’t help but watch the smooth, efficient movements of his hands as they peeled the foil off of a chilled bottle of champagne.

He unfastened the wire and popped the cork while Dillon struggled to unwrap the straw on a juice box for his new daughter. Erika reached for the drink, obviously trying to help, but her groom was determined to master the task. The bride shrugged and settled back against the cushy leather seat, content to let him.

Erin felt a little tug of envy again but pushed it aside. Maybe Erika did have it all, but getting it hadn’t been easy for her. She’d had her heart broken when Emilia’s father walked out on her, and then she’d had to tackle the trials and tribulations of single parenthood. From Erin’s perspective, her friend had done a wonderful job, and if she’d lucked out when she’d fallen in love with Dillon Traub, well, no one de served it more.

Corey had finished pouring the champagne and passed the crystal flutes around to the adults.

“To the bride and groom,” he said, lifting his glass.

Erin joined in the toast but only took the tiniest sip. Although she was sure the bubbly wouldn’t be nearly as po tent as Corey’s proximity, she didn’t want to take the chance of alcohol further compromising her judgment.

“To Erika,” Dillon said. “Not only the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen and the most amazing woman I’ve ever known, but also the one who has given me the greatest gift I could ever hope for by becoming my wife today.”

Erika’s eyes were misty with tears when her new husband brushed his lips against hers.

“To my daughter,” the groom said, tapping his glass against Emilia’s juice box. “One of those greatest gifts.”

The little girl beamed at him and slurped down more juice.

“And to my brother,” Dillon continued. “For always being there for me when it mattered, and especially today because it mattered most of all.”

Corey grinned. “I’ll remind you of those words the next time you grumble about me being underfoot.”

His brother smiled back before he shifted his attention. “And to Erin—”

“Wait,” Erika interrupted.

Dillon’s brows rose.

“As the bride, I should get to toast my maid of honor,” she said.

Her husband gestured for her to continue.

Erin’s fingers tightened around the stem of her glass as she felt the attention focus on her.

“To Erin. I know you were surprised when I asked you to stand up with me at my wedding, and more than a little reluctant, and I want to thank you for saying ‘yes’ because although we’ve only known each other for a few months, I feel closer to you than all of the people that I grew up with here in Thunder Canyon. More, I feel accepted by you and appreciated for who I am rather than judged by what I’ve done, and I will always be grateful for your unwavering sup port and your unconditional friendship.”

“Hey, can you say something about me?” Corey asked his new sister-in-law. “Because that was a lot more eloquent than what Dillon came up with.”

Everyone was laughing as the limo pulled up in front of the resort.

Erin slipped away from Corey’s side soon after they entered the ballroom.

The bride and groom had opted for a champagne reception rather than a formal meal, so there was no seating plan and guests mingled freely while waiters circulated with trays of hot and cold hors d’oeuvres. Erin decided it was wise to do her mingling as far away as possible from the best man.

It was a strategic retreat. She simply didn’t know how to deal with the feelings that stirred inside of her when she was near Corey. During the brief time that she’d dated Trevor, she’d been aware that something was missing. She’d liked him well enough and they’d shared some common interests, but there was no spark between them.

When Corey Traub had walked into the rehearsal the night before, she could hardly see for the sparks. She’d al ways thought she should feel more, but she had never guessed how much more there could be—or how unsettled the more could make her feel.

She had no experience with this kind of immediate and intense attraction. But she was certain that Corey did. That he had this effect on women all of the time and no doubt knew exactly how to handle it. How to handle her. And as intrigued as she was by the idea of being handled by the sexy groomsman, she was even more wary.

She didn’t do a lot of mingling, but she made a point of chatting with the people she knew and spent several minutes talking with Haley Anderson and Marlon Cates, Haley’s now-fiancé. When she turned away from the couple, she found herself face-to-face with Corey.

Actually, it was more face-to-chest because, even in heels, she was several inches shorter than he. And it was quite a chest, the breadth and strength of it evident even through the shirt and jacket he wore. She forced her gaze to lift to an even more impressive face.

Was it any wonder the man took her breath away? He had a look that could sell…anything, she decided, and managed to hold back a sigh.

He had a strong forehead, sharp cheekbones, a slightly square jaw. His brows arched over dark eyes surrounded by thick lashes, his lusciously curved mouth was quick to smile, and when he did, her knees simply went weak. The slight bump in his nose was the only imperfection, but it didn’t detract from the overall effect.

But he was somehow more than the sum of all of those parts, and the devilish charm that sparkled in his eyes and winked in his smile was just one more weapon in his overstocked arsenal.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Corey said, sounding more curious than offended.

“I have not,” she denied, though not very convincingly.

“Prove it,” he challenged.

She eyed him warily over the top of her glass. “How?”

“Dance with me.”

Erin took another tiny sip of her champagne as she considered how to respond. She knew she should refuse, that getting closer to the groom’s brother was not a good idea when he could make the nerves in her belly quiver from clear across the room. But how could she refuse? What excuse could she give for declining a seemingly innocent request? Especially when he’d already guessed that she was avoiding him.

Thankfully, before she could say anything, another woman approached from the other side and latched on to him, deliberately rubbing the curve of her breast against his arm as she leaned close. “Hey, cowboy, you promised me a dance.”

When she’d been waitressing at the Hitching Post, Erin had gotten to know Trina as one of the Friday night regulars. Trina frequently came in with a group of girlfriends and often left with a man—and not usually the same one as the week before.

At the resort, Erin frequently worked at check-in with Trina, as had Erika. No doubt it was their working relationship that had compelled the bride to invite the other woman to her wedding despite the fact that Trina had been instrumental in churning the gossip mill when Erika started dating Dillon.

Erin didn’t know whether Trina had attended the event with a date, although she knew the presence of an escort wouldn’t inhibit Trina from flirting with anyone else who caught her eye—as the groom’s brother had obviously done.

To his credit, Corey didn’t roll his eyes, though Erin didn’t miss the quick desperate plea in them before he shifted his gaze from her to the other woman.

“But I already promised this particular dance to Erin, didn’t I, darlin’?”

She had the power to save him. She simply had to agree that he had promised this dance to her. But she sensed that saving Corey from the she-wolf at his side would somehow end up with her becoming a sacrificial lamb, and that was a risk she wasn’t willing to take. Because the way he said “darlin’”—the subtle Texas twang in his voice combined with the unmistakable heat in his eyes—sent a delicious shiver over her skin and stirred desire in her body and reminded her that what she needed to do was keep a good, safe distance between herself and the far-too-sexy Texas oil heir.

“Actually, I really wouldn’t mind sitting this one out,” she said.

“I’ll be right back,” Corey said to her, and his narrowed gaze told her that the words were more a threat than a promise.

Trina’s satisfied smile, however, warned Erin not to count on his prompt return.

She watched him move around the dance floor with the other woman in his arms and tried to convince herself that the sensation overtaking her was relief and not regret.

Corey knew when he was being brushed off. Though it was something of a new experience for him, he had no trouble interpreting the message in Erin’s polite words—she wasn’t interested.

The woman in his arms, however, definitely was. Unfortunately, Corey couldn’t even remember her name.

Catrina? Tina? Trina! At least, he thought that was it. He admittedly hadn’t been paying much attention when she’d introduced herself earlier. He hadn’t paid much attention to any of their conversation, having been thoroughly captivated by the sexy bridesmaid in the frosty blue gown.

The one who claimed she wasn’t interested.

His gaze drifted across the room to where Erin stood with a glass of champagne in her hand, and his gaze locked with hers again.

And he knew that, although she might feign disinterest, the look in her eyes contradicted her words.

So what was the story there? Why was she pretending to be immune to the chemistry between them?

After meeting her at the rehearsal the night before, he’d made some discreet inquiries and learned that she didn’t have a steady boyfriend. In fact, by all accounts, she hadn’t dated anyone since moving to Thunder Canyon a few months earlier. Which made him wonder if she’d made the move because she needed to get away from someone who had broken her heart.

The thought was strangely unsettling. He didn’t even know her, so he didn’t understand why he would feel protective of her. But there was something that had struck him from the first—maybe it was the hint of vulnerability in those deep-blue eyes, or the wistfulness in her smile, or maybe it was just the feeling, irrational though he knew it was, that Erin was the woman he’d been waiting for.

He smiled at the thought, recognizing it as not just irrational but ridiculous in light of the fact that he couldn’t even get her to agree to dance with him. Then again, Corey had never been one to back down from a challenge.

More and more couples were joining those already on the dance floor and soon the space was so crowded with bodies that he lost sight of her. When the song finally ended and he released Trina, she pouted prettily.

“Are you really going to let me go so soon?”

“Yes, I am, darlin’,” he told her, but softened the rejection with a smile.

She tucked something into his pocket. “My number—in case you change your mind.”

Because his mother had raised him to be a gentleman, he didn’t tell her that he’d had her number from the start, but he also didn’t give her another thought as he walked away.

He was too busy searching the crowd for a certain blue-eyed girl in a familiar blue dress.

Chapter Two

Erin had let down her guard. It was the only excuse she had for being caught so unaware. But when Corey had followed Trina onto the dance floor, Erin had been certain her coworker would keep him thoroughly occupied. She hadn’t expected that he would walk away from an obviously willing woman and come looking for her.

But she’d barely started to nibble on the hors d’oeuvres she’d put on her plate when he lowered himself into the empty chair beside her. She popped a coconut shrimp in her mouth, slowly chewing then swallowing.

“I believe you owe me a dance,” he said, choosing a stuffed mushroom from her plate.

She lifted a brow. “Do I?”

“At the very least.”

“Why don’t I share my dinner and we’ll call it even?” she suggested.

He grinned, and she felt the now-familiar weakness in her knees again. “I’ll get you some more mushrooms as long as I get the dance.”

She nudged her plate toward him. “I’m really not that hungry.”

“What are you afraid of?” He bit into a petite quiche.

“That you’ll stomp all over my toes with your cowboy boots.”

She’d meant to insult him, hoped the affront would dissuade him. Instead, he laughed.

“I’m sure you’ll survive,” he told her. “My previous dance partner was barely limping when she walked away.”

“She was plastered so close, you wouldn’t have been able to step on her toes if you tried.”

Too late she realized what she’d said—that her response proved that she’d watched him with Trina.

Corey’s smile confirmed that he’d caught her slip, but thankfully, he didn’t call her on it.

“What do you say?” he prompted.

Erin knew that to refuse again would only succeed in making a big deal out of something that shouldn’t be. After all, it was just a dance.

So she took the hand he offered and let him lead her away from the table. Though her heart was hammering furiously against her ribs, she decided that there really wasn’t any danger in spending time with Corey on a crowded dance floor.

The minute he put his arms around her, she realized she was wrong. Because every fiber of her being was acutely aware of his nearness and every nerve ending in her body was suddenly humming.

She should have guessed that he’d be a good dancer. Contrary to her earlier teasing remark that she feared for her feet, he moved smoothly and confidently around the dance floor. No doubt he knew all the right moves in any situation, but despite that warning to herself, it required no effort on Erin’s part to follow his lead, nor was it a hardship to be held in his arms.

She saw Erika and Dillon dance by and was grateful for the distraction. “They look so perfect together,” she murmured.

“I’ve never seen my brother so happy,” Corey admitted to her. “It almost makes me forgive him for pulling up stakes and moving to Montana.”

She tipped her head back. “Almost?”

He shrugged. “A Texan is always a Texan, regardless of where he parks his horse.”

The mental image of a horse tethered outside of the medical clinic made her lips curve.

His gaze dropped to her mouth, lingered. Her breath caught.

“You have a beautiful smile,” he told her.

Immediately, her smile faded.

“Why do I make you so nervous?”

She couldn’t—wouldn’t—tell him that it was her own response to him that made him nervous. Instead, she said, “Because I don’t know what you want from me.”

“Right now, just a dance.”

“And later?”

His smile was slow and filled with sensual promise. “Why don’t we figure that out later?”

“If you’re looking for a good time while you’re in Thunder Canyon, you should be looking in Trina’s direction,” she told him.

“You don’t think we could have a good time together, darlin’?” The challenge was issued in that same lazy tone that skimmed over her like a caress.

“I’m sure we could,” she replied honestly. “But I’m not the type of woman to go home with a smooth-talking stranger.”

He pulled her closer so that her thighs were aligned with his. They were more swaying than dancing now, and the light brushes of his body against hers felt disturbingly like foreplay.

“I’m hardly a stranger,” he said.

“I just met you yesterday.”

“And I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since then.”

She wasn’t entirely sure she could trust what he was saying. Because while he sounded sincere and the look in his eyes confirmed that he felt at least a hint of the same attraction that had her whole system tied up in knots, she couldn’t help but feel that Corey Traub was the type of man who had a line for every occasion—and a woman in every town he’d ever visited. She’d be a fool to fall under his spell, and she was already halfway there.

He dipped his head toward her, his dark eyes sparkling with a hint of playfulness. “So tell me, are your toes black and blue yet?”

“You know they’re not,” she said.

He grinned, and again her breath caught. Damn. The man’s smile was a seriously dangerous weapon.

“So why do you sound annoyed?” he teased.

“I’m not annoyed,” she denied.

But she was wary.

Corey could see that in her eyes. And he couldn’t blame her. She was probably used to being hit on by guys who wanted nothing more than to get naked with her, and although Corey wouldn’t deny that idea appealed to him, he was trying not to objectify the woman who was obviously a close friend of his new sister-in-law.

Sister-in-law.

The word echoed in his mind, made him shake his head.

Erin raised a brow.

“I was just thinking about the fact that I’m dancing with the most beautiful woman at my brother’s wedding,” he answered the unspoken query, “which made me realize that Dillon is actually married.”

“Is he one of those guys who swore it would never happen?”

“I don’t know if I’d say that, but he and his first wife divorced after their son died and he never gave any indication that he was looking to settle down ever again. And certainly no one expected that, when he came to Thunder Canyon to fill in for Marshall at the resort, he would fall in love and become a husband and a father only a few short months later.”

“Especially not Erika,” Erin noted.

He chuckled. “Yeah, I think she fought against falling in love again even more than he did.”

“She had reason to be wary.”

“I guess she did,” he agreed. “And so did he. How about you?”

“What about me?”

“Why isn’t there anyone here with you tonight?”

“I didn’t see any point in bringing a date when I would only neglect him to perform my maid-of-honor duties.”

Which answered his question without actually telling him whether or not she was involved with anyone right now. He decided to trust the reports of the local grapevine and assume that she was currently unattached.

But there was something else he was curious about. “You’ve known Erika for a while?”

“Since I moved here in the summer.”

“So why were you uncomfortable in the limo when she thanked you for standing up with her?”

She lifted a shoulder. “Because I didn’t really do anything that required thanks.”

“You were—are—her friend.”

“And she’s mine.”

He nodded. “But why—”

Someone nudged his shoulder.

He scowled and turned, an irritated retort on the tip of his lips until he saw that it was his cousin Dax.

“Come on, Cor. We’ve got bottles of champagne ready to toast the bride and groom.”

“And I’ve got a beautiful woman in my arms,” Corey pointed out to his cousin.

“I’m not suggesting you let go of her,” Dax said and winked at Erin. “Bring her along.”

And that was how she ended up with Corey at a table where his friends and family were gathered.

During the time she’d been in Thunder Canyon, she’d already met most of the others at the table. The Traubs—Dax and Shandie, DJ and Allaire, and the Cates—Marshall and Mia—now back from their vacation, Mitchell and Lizabeth, Marlon and Haley and Marlon’s twin brother, Matt. Erin realized that Matt Cates was the only one not married or engaged, though he had brought Christine Mayhew as his date. Her boss, Grant Clifton, was also there with his wife, Stephanie, and Grant’s best friend, Russ Chilton, was in attendance with his spouse, Melanie. Erin had met the rest of the groom’s family at the rehearsal, but other than the parents—Claudia and Peter—she didn’t remember any of their names, and she was grateful when Corey repeated the introduction of his brothers, Ethan, Jason and Jackson, and his sister, Rose.

Erin hovered on the periphery as glasses of champagne were passed around, thinking that she might be able to sneak away. But Corey kept an arm around her shoulders, making it clear that he had no intention of letting her go. So she stayed beside him as toasts were made and glasses refilled, and she found herself following the various conversations with avid curiosity.

When conversation shifted to the Thanksgiving holiday, only a few weeks away, Grant remarked that he expected his mother and his sister would both return to Thunder Canyon for the occasion.

“It’s been a long time since Elise has been in town for her birthday,” Grant said. “So I’m planning a surprise party for her while she’s here.”

“How old is she going to be?” Erin asked.

“Twenty-six,” her boss replied. “On the twentieth.”

Erin paused with her glass of champagne halfway to her lips.

Her twenty-sixth birthday was on the twentieth, too.

It was probably nothing more than a coincidence, but a sudden startling thought occurred to her. All this time she’d been looking for a man who might have had an affair with her mother, but maybe aunt Erma had been referring to something completely different.

Erin lowered her hand and focused her attention more intently on her boss, noticing—for the first time—that his eyes were the same blue color as her own. And that his hair was dark blond, also similar to her own. She shook her head, as if to rid it of the fanciful imaginings. But the questions that had rooted in her mind wouldn’t be easily dismissed.

“I haven’t seen Elise since high school,” Matt remarked. “I’m not even sure if I would recognize her.”

“I’m sure you would.” Grant reached into his back pocket for his wallet. “She hasn’t changed much.”

Erin, who had been wondering how to ask Grant if he had any pictures of his sister, leaned closer as her boss tugged a photo out from its holder and slid it across the table toward Matt.

“This was taken last summer,” Grant told the other man.

Matt leaned closer to look at the photo, and Erin did, too.

“You’re right,” Matt said. “In fact, she hasn’t changed at all.”

Erin’s first thought was that Grant’s sister was an attractive woman—her blond hair was worn in a pageboy style that brushed her shoulders and she had pretty blue eyes and an innocence about her that made her appear younger than her years. Her second thought was that Elise didn’t look much like her brother. In fact, the shape of her eyes and her chin was more like that of her own brothers, Jake and Josh.

She pulled back, her stomach suddenly churning, her heart pounding. The conversation continued around her, but she didn’t hear a word of it. She couldn’t think of anything but that picture of Elise.

“More champagne?”

“What?”

Corey held the bottle of champagne over her glass. Erin shook her head and set her glass on the table. “I, um, I need to get some air,” she said, and slipped away from him and toward the exit.

She hadn’t expected that he would follow her, but she’d only just pushed through the doors and barely registered the cold November wind on her bare shoulders before they were covered.

“You shouldn’t be out here without a coat,” Corey said, draping his tuxedo jacket around her.

“Now you are,” she told him.

“I’m not wearing a sleeveless dress.”

Her lips curved, just a little, at the thought of the all-too-masculine Texan in any kind of dress, and she slipped her arms into the sleeves of his jacket.

She could feel the heat from his body, smell the scent of his skin, and the quivering that reverberated low in her belly was almost enough to take her mind off of the kaleidoscopic thoughts swirling in her mind.

Twenty-six years earlier, on November twentieth, she’d been born in Thunder Canyon. Elise Clifton had been born on the same day in the same town. And Elise looked a lot like Erin’s brothers—certainly more than she resembled Grant. Which made Erin wonder—was it possible that the hospital had somehow mixed up the two babies? Was it possible that the man she knew as her boss could be her biological brother?

“Erin?” Corey frowned and touched a hand to her cheek. “Are you okay? You look a little pale.”

“Actually, I’m not feeling all that good,” she told him. “I think I’d better call a cab and head home.”

“I’ll give you a ride, if you’re sure you’re ready to go.”

“I am,” she told him. “But you don’t have to—”

“I’ll take you home,” he insisted.

Because he’d had a couple of beers earlier in the evening and knew he would be driving, Corey had barely touched his own glass of champagne. He didn’t think Erin’s had been refilled more than once, but she was obviously feeling the effects of the bubbly, and because he’d been the one who refilled her glass, he felt responsible and was determined to ensure she got home safely.

As they waited for the valet to bring his truck around, he noticed that some of the color had returned to her cheeks. Or maybe they were just pink from the cold. In either case, she didn’t really look intoxicated. Her words weren’t slurred and her steps weren’t unsteady, but her eyes were a little glassy and, even with his jacket on, she was shivering uncontrollably.

He settled her in the passenger seat and immediately cranked up the heat. After a few minutes, her teeth stopped chattering but she kept her arms folded across her chest and continued to stare straight ahead out the window.

She was quiet during the short drive to her condo on the outside boundary of the resort property, only speaking when it was necessary to tell him to turn left or right. He kept stealing cautious glances at her, hoping for some clue as to how she was feeling, but neither her posture nor her expression gave anything away.

He’d been talking to DJ and Allaire and hadn’t really paid attention to any of the other conversations. She’d been chatting with Grant and Matt, and he wondered now if either of those men had inadvertently said something that might have upset her. If so, no one else in the group seemed to have picked up on anything that might have caused her distress. Because the more Corey thought about it, the more convinced he was that Erin wasn’t drunk—she was upset.

But whatever was on her mind, her silence clearly indicated that she had no intention of talking about it. Not with him, anyway.

“Right here,” she said.

He pulled into a narrow driveway, behind a dark-green Kia, and turned off the engine.

“Thanks for the ride,” she said, reaching for the handle before Corey could come around to help her out.

“I’ll see you to your door,” he told her.

“That’s really not necessary.”

“Necessary or not,” he said, falling into step beside her, “my mama would never forgive me if I left without making sure that you were safely inside.”

“Okay, you walked me to my door,” she said, stopping under the porch light. “Now your mother can hold her head up, confident she raised her boys right, and you can go.”

“Not just yet,” he said. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

She did look better, as if the effects of the champagne had already dissipated. If the champagne had truly been the reason for her abrupt departure.

“No nausea? No dizziness?”

She shook her head. “I’m fine,” she said again. “Really. It was probably just too warm in the ballroom and once I got out into the fresh air, my head cleared.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” She smiled up at him, and though the smile didn’t quite erase the shadows in her eyes, it made him forget his concerns and remember how much he wanted to kiss her.

“Good,” he said and lowered his head to taste the sweet curve of her lips.

It was a testament to how preoccupied Erin’s thoughts were that she didn’t anticipate his kiss.

She’d been kissed plenty of times before, and she knew how to read the signs and signals that usually led to the first touch of lips on lips—and how to dodge that touch if she wanted to.

Not that she wanted to dodge Corey’s kiss. In fact, she’d spent an inordinate amount of time wondering what it would feel like to be kissed by him. She’d wondered if the same spark and sizzle she felt when he looked at her would translate through actual physical contact…or if the anticipation of his kiss would be more exciting than the actual event.

No worries there, she thought, as his lips brushed against hers again, sending tremors of longing through her body.

He kissed the way he talked—softly and smoothly, as if he had all the time in the world. And as if he intended to spend all of that time just kissing her.

His hands skimmed up her back and, even through the fabric of the jacket she still wore, she could feel the heat of his fingertips tracing the ridges of her spine. Then his hands moved across her shoulders and down her arms.

The keys that she held slipped from her fingers and crashed to the ground.

Erin didn’t even notice.

She was far too busy enjoying the slow, sensual assault on her mouth.

His tongue slid between her lips, licked lazily.

There was nothing leisurely or casual about her body’s response.

Each flick and flutter of his tongue shot flame-tipped arrows of heat and hunger spearing toward her center. Every careful and unhurried pass of his hands made her blood pulse and pound.

She moved against him, and both the tempo and intensity of the kiss changed.

He drew her closer, his arms wrapped around her tighter, he kissed her deeper.

Erin felt her own arms glide up his chest, her hands sliding over impressive pecs and broad, hard shoulders to link behind his neck. He was so big, so strong, so wholly and undeniably male.

And her response was completely and helplessly female.

She shuddered and melted against him.

Corey groaned into her mouth and delved deeper.

Yeah, she’d been kissed before. But never like this. In her experience, most men approached kissing as nothing more than a brief prelude to the main event, but not Corey Traub. His kisses were worthy of top billing. He kissed her as if she was the object of all desire and the source of all pleasure, and as if he never wanted to stop.

And Erin never wanted him to stop.

But just when Erin was about to throw all common sense and caution to the wind and drag Corey inside with her, he eased away.

“I think I should say good-night now, before I forget that my mama raised me to be a gentleman,” he said.

She should have been grateful he’d backed off. She didn’t know him nearly well enough to even kiss him the way she’d kissed him, never mind indulge in any of the other erotic fantasies her mind had conjured up while he’d been seducing her with his skillfully creative mouth and his dangerously talented hands.

He bent to scoop up the keys she’d dropped and put them in her hand, curling her fingers around them.

His other hand lifted to her face, his fingertips skimming lightly over the swollen curve of her bottom lip.

The gentle touch set off bursts of erotic tingles that warned her to put some distance between them before she urged him to forget his mother’s teachings.

“Good night,” she said softly.

He stepped back, and Erin fumbled with the keys in her hand for a moment before she found the right one for the door. She fumbled some more fitting it into the lock, but then the bolt released with a click.

Corey didn’t say anything else, but he waited on the step until she’d slipped inside and locked the door again, then he turned away.

Erin watched from the window as he walked back to his car and reminded herself that she’d done the right thing, the smart thing, in letting him go. There was too much uncertainty in her life to consider any kind of personal involvement right now.

But that knowledge didn’t stop her from wishing otherwise.