Feels Like Home. Vicki Thompson Lewis
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here again, so if I visit her this winter, I could learn then. Do you ski?”
“Some. I haven’t done it much lately, though. I always seem to be working.” The comment made him sound like a drudge, and he wasn’t. But he owed it to his clients to keep up with the markets and emerging trends. That required constant vigilance. Today was a rare break in his routine.
“Jackson Hole is a fantastic place to ski.”
“So I hear. Wyatt’s already said something about celebrating Christmas here, but I don’t know …”
“We could visit at the same time and you could teach me to ski! That would be a nice trade, don’t you think?”
“It would.” So now she was suggesting that they coordinate visits. If that wasn’t an indication of interest, then he knew nothing about women.
He liked the prospect of seeing her again in December. He liked it quite a bit, assuming he could do some work while he was here. Many of his clients were shifting assets around at the end of the year, so he was usually busy.
“Of course, there’s always the possibility I’ll be living here by then.”
“Living here?” He had trouble keeping up with her whirlwind approach to life. “You’d move?”
“I’m seriously considering it. I’ve fallen in love with the area. All I need is a job. Shoshone’s a one-traffic-light town, but Jackson might be able to use me in some capacity.”
“And you’ve been here how long?”
“Four days. Five counting today.”
“Don’t you think you need more time before making a major decision like that?”
She shrugged. “Not really. I grew up in Pittsburgh, and I like it okay, but something about this area just feels like home, you know?”
“Not exactly.” He’d never thought in those terms. His parents’ house had been a showplace, but not what he’d call a home. His own apartment worked for him and had that outstanding view, so he supposed it was home, although he’d never called it that.
“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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