Holding Out for Christmas (The Christmas Tree Ranch #3)(19)

“But it’s a family event in a small town. Why not perform as yourself?”

“Because Lacy is more entertaining.”

“And sexier. You’ll have every man in the place panting for you. And sooner or later, one of them is bound to act on his feelings. You don’t know how men think, Megan. You don’t know what goes through their minds when they see you onstage in that cheap-looking getup. It’s like you’re . . . advertising.”

“We’re not having this conversation again, Derek,” Megan said. “Nobody wants to hear Megan Carson sing. I discovered that when I was auditioning for gigs.”

“But why not? You’re a beautiful, wholesome young woman.”

“That’s enough, Derek. I’m finished with this argument. And I’m tired. We can talk later. All right?”

“I’ll call you tomorrow night.”

“Fine.” Megan ended the call and fell back on the bed, her eyes gazing up at the ceiling. Derek was a good man, solid and dependable, she told herself. If she said yes when he proposed, he would always take care of her, always be there to protect her. Always.

“Take a chance, Megan.” Conner’s seductive voice echoed in her memory. “Climb onto this crazy ride and see where it takes us.”

But what was she thinking? Conner Branch was nothing but a charming player. His only plan was to give her a few thrills and drop her as soon as Lacy showed up. Lacy—a woman who only existed onstage and in his lusty, male imagination.

There were times when Megan was tempted to box up the wig, the makeup, the boots, the Stetson, and the beaded coat, toss them into a Dumpster, and walk away for good. But there was a certain magic in being Lacy; there was a sassy self-confidence that as shy, conservative Megan, she would never possess on her own.

Conner had said that he would call her. What would she say if he asked her out again? Would she be sensible and refuse to waste more time on a small-town heart-breaker? Or would she fling caution aside and take a chance?

She’d be a fool to see him again. But there was the memory of that kiss . . .

*

Conner came home to an empty house—empty, that is, except for Bucket, who greeted him in an ecstasy of licks and wagging. He let the dog out long enough to do his business in the snow, then called him back inside.

The house was chilly. Conner opened the potbellied stove and laid a dry log on the glowing coals. Leaving the door open, he warmed his hands and waited for the wood to catch fire.

The chaste kiss he’d shared with Megan lingered like a pleasant buzz on his lips. He’d enjoyed kissing her—the softness of her lips and the slight hesitation that had melted into a murmuring response. He would do a better job of it next time, he vowed, with his arms molding her against him, his mouth plundering hers. To paraphrase Rhett Butler, Megan was a lady who needed to be kissed often, and by someone who knew how.

He hadn’t planned to have Megan find out about his crush on the raven-haired singer. But maybe it was just as well that the secret was out. Now they could be open and honest with each other. No secrets. No evasions. Just a mutual understanding between two intelligent adults—and a good time with no strings attached.

It had been too long since he’d enjoyed that kind of relationship. The ladies of Branding Iron tended to be marriage-minded. Last year, Ronda May Blackburn had schemed relentlessly to get him to the altar. Ronda May was a nice girl, and Conner hadn’t wanted to hurt her with a nasty breakup. But he’d been vastly relieved when she’d set her sights on an easier target. Now she was planning a spring wedding. He would be there to kiss the bride and wish her the best.

The log in the stove was beginning to burn. Flames licked at the splintered bark, radiating blessed heat into the room. Conner turned around to enjoy the heat on his backside. Travis wouldn’t be home for a while, he knew. He might even spend the night at Maggie’s and show up early for chores. Lucky man.

Bucket’s damp nose nuzzled his fingertips. He reached down and scratched the dog’s scruffy ears. “Looks like it’s going to be just you and me, old boy,” he murmured. “Just two old bachelors rattling around in an empty house.”

He was just beginning to realize how empty that house would seem.





Chapter 5


By her third day at home, Megan had taken over all her father’s breakfast duties. She enjoyed making the meal special for her family. This morning she’d planned on waffles with blueberries and whipped cream, Daniel’s favorite.

Wearing her sweats and sneakers, she headed for the kitchen. The windows were dark, the house still quiet, but the others would be waking up soon. They tended to rise early, and she wanted to have breakfast on the table by the time they were ready to eat.

Conner’s sizzling but tender kiss tugged at her memory. Forcing herself to dismiss it, she tucked the thought, like an unneeded handkerchief, into a pocket of the past. She was here to be with her family, not to indulge in a fling that promised no future and would only waste her time. Conner Branch was history. End of story.

The light in the kitchen was on. To Megan’s surprise, she found Daniel sitting at the table, dressed in his robe and flannel pajamas. He was gazing down at an open booklet, his face a study in furious concentration. Glancing over his shoulder, she saw that it was a driver’s handbook for the State of Texas.

“Goodness, Daniel, how long have you been up?” she asked.