Thunder Canyon Homecoming (2 page)

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.

E
rin 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.