Vicki Thompson - Feels Like Home

“Well, my philosophy is that life’s short. You have to grab the good stuff while you can. Speaking of that, there’s a pretty little creek up ahead. Let’s stop and rest awhile. I didn’t think to bring water, so the horses can get a drink and so can we.”

“Okay.” He tried to decide if he was dealing with a certified flake. Meg was fun to have around and he was sexually attracted to her, but if she’d pull up stakes and switch locations in the blink of an eye, then … then so what? Did it matter?

Even if they got cozy with each other during the week of the wedding, it would be a no-strings affair. Her life decisions wouldn’t affect him in the slightest, except that if she moved, she’d be around in December if he made the trip back to Jackson Hole.

But who knew if they’d even like each other at the end of the week if they did become involved. They’d only met yesterday. There might be strong chemistry between them, but until he’d at least kissed her … He almost laughed at his typical caution. Kissing her would be outstanding, and he damned well knew it. The sex would be even better.

Meg pulled her horse to a stop beside a bubbling rivulet of water about two yards wide. “There’s a flat rock over there we can sit on.”

He liked the idea of the rock, but not the lack of trees. “There’s nothing to tie the horses to. Don’t forget that Destiny likes to wander.”

“I haven’t.” She dismounted and led her horse to the stream. “But Spilled Milk is trained to be ground-tied, which means if I drop the reins to the ground, she won’t go anywhere, so if we tie Destiny’s reins to Spilled Milk’s saddle horn, we’re golden.”

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