A Cowboy Under Her Tree

Her chin jerked a little at that.

“Get a flight in the morning,” he clarified, swallowing a bite of laughter. “Trust me, Red. Only way you and I would be doing what you’re naughty little imagination is conjuring is if you pleaded.”

“In your dreams,” she replied loftily.

Unfortunately, that was already a problem. Not that she needed to know that. And he sure in hell didn’t intend to do anything about it. Sex with his paper-only wife would only lead to trouble. “We’ll fly back in the morning, then.” He took her arm as they entered a crosswalk and joined the throng of people crossing the street. “When’s the last time you were in Vegas?”

She gestured vaguely toward one of the newest hotels towering over the skyline. “At the opening.”

“You don’t have any McFarlane hotels here.”

“No.” She looked out over the strip. “Not McFarlane’s style.”

“Wouldn’t think a guest ranch in Thunder Canyon would be McFarlane’s style, either.”

“It will be.” That determination she never seemed to turn off rang through her words. “Not all of our hotels are monoliths of traditional style and elegance, you know. The first hotel my brother, Connor, opened was in an unused railway station in Seattle. It’s won awards, even.”

“But I’ll bet they still put a McFarlane Mint on the bed pillows with the turndown service.”

She lifted her shoulder. “So? Those mints are good. We have exclusive rights to them. Have you had one?”

He and Nola had spent their wedding night in McFarlane House Boston, and she’d bought a box of the expensive things in the gift shop to bring back to Thunder Canyon. It hadn’t satisfied her yen for luxury for very long, though. “A long time ago.”

They could have chosen any one of the mile-long hotels looming around them to stay at. But he spotted a small diner tucked between two fenced-off construction zones and headed toward it instead, pulling her along with him.

The inside was crowded, the hum of voices and Christmas music just shy of a din. Yet there were two stools available at the counter and he made his way toward them. He dropped their suitcases on the floor between them and handed her one of the laminated menus that were tucked between a jar of mustard and a bottle of ketchup.