Holding Out for Christmas (The Christmas Tree Ranch #3)(57)

Conner would never know. But he hadn’t trusted a woman since. The question now was, could he trust Megan enough to break free of the past and love her with all his heart and soul?

Megan had shown no sign of mentioning her secret identity. But maybe she just didn’t know how to bring it up. As he crossed the parking lot to the Jeep, he thought of a way that might encourage her. At least it was worth a try.

“I’ve got an idea,” he said as they headed homeward on the highway. “Let’s play a game. First I tell you something you don’t know about me. Then you can tell me something I don’t know about you. Okay?”

Did he detect a slight hesitation? “Sure,” she said. “You start.”

“Here goes,” he said. “I hate peanut butter. When I was little, I put this big glob of it in my mouth and almost choked to death. To this day, I can’t stand to eat the stuff.”

“Yuck,” she responded. “I can’t top that.”

“We’ll see. Now it’s your turn.”

She seemed to be thinking. Maybe she would finally tell him her secret.

“When I was little, I wanted to be a mermaid,” she said. “I used to lie in the tub with my legs together, hoping they’d grow into a tail. As you see, that never happened. What can I say? I was a weird kid. Okay, your turn again.”

Conner sighed. She wasn’t making this easy. “Sometimes at night, I dream that I’m back riding bulls. In the dream, it seems so easy, just like floating on the bull’s back. But then, I fall off and wake up.”

“I have road trip dreams,” she said. “I’m always driving on the same road. It starts easy, but then it gets harder and harder, until I’m driving up this steep mountain, scared of falling off the edge.”

One more try, Conner resolved. This time, he’d take the truth deeper. “I was engaged a few years ago. We broke up before my accident. She’s married now. No regrets. It would never have worked out between us.”

“Why not?” she asked.

“Because I found out I couldn’t trust her. For two people to stay together, trust matters almost as much as love. Do you believe that, too?”

“Of course.”

He waited for her to say more. When she didn’t, he prompted her. “Your turn.”

“I’ve never been engaged,” she said. “I broke up with my last boyfriend because I couldn’t see spending my life with a man who was so insecure and needy—even though he was, and still is, my boss.”

“Sounds like smart thinking.” Conner sighed. So much for games. They were back in Branding Iron now, and he was turning up her street. He’d been tempted to invite her to the ranch, but with Travis gone and so much work to be done, the place was pretty much a mess. And given the urges his body had felt when they were kissing in the movie theater, being alone with her in the house might not be the best idea. He pulled into the driveway and came around to walk her to the door.

“Thank you.” She gave him a cautious smile, as if to warn him that they were probably being watched. “I had a wonderful time.”

“So did I.” He squeezed her hand at the door. “I’ll call you.”

She stood on tiptoe, pecked his cheek, and stepped inside. He could hear her greeting her family as he walked back to the Jeep.

Conner punched the dial on the radio as he drove. Elvis Presley’s “Blue Christmas” blared from the speakers. It had been a wonderful day. Being with Megan, talking with her, holding and kissing her in the movie, had been everything he’d hoped it would be.

But was it enough, when she still hadn’t told him what he needed to hear?





Chapter 13


Megan walked down the hall to her room, tossed her purse on the bed, and hung up her jacket. Coward, she scolded herself. Why hadn’t she told Conner about Lacy? He’d given her the perfect opening, almost as if he’d suspected she was hiding a secret.

She recalled what he’d said about trust. She knew he’d been asking for a sign that he could trust her. So, what had stopped her from giving it to him?

But why wonder, when she knew the answer to that question? Telling Conner that she was Lacy would change everything between them. It would change the way he thought of her, the way he saw her. And the next time he kissed her, if it happened again, he would be imagining sexy, mysterious Lacy in his arms.

Sooner or later, she would have to tell him the truth. But she was so happy being with him, being in his arms, losing herself in his kisses, and feeling desired for herself, not some gussied-up imitation. Was it wrong to want this blissful merry-go-round ride to last a little longer?

As she was pulling off her sweater, her phone rang. Would it be Conner? She snatched it out of her purse.

“Hi, Megan, this is Tucker.” The familiar voice belonged to the bass player for the Badger Hollow Boys. “Hey, sorry for the last-minute notice, but we landed a major gig for tomorrow night, when another group canceled. It’s a big event, lots of people to hear you. We’re hoping you’ll make a flying trip back here to sing with us. What do you say?”

For an instant, Megan was stunned into silence—not because she didn’t want to sing, but because the offer had come out of nowhere and demanded an instant decision.

“This could be it, your big chance,” Tucker said.