Rolling Like Thunder. Vicki Thompson Lewis

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СКАЧАТЬ would be great.” He took it off and handed it to her.

      “My pleasure.” She gave him another brilliant smile. “I’ll take good care of it.”

      “I surely appreciate that.” Yep. He was back to talking like a cowboy.

      By the time he caught up with Chelsea, she was struggling to get her roller bag into the overhead compartment, so he helped her. She muttered her thanks and he slid his own in next to it before taking his seat.

      The plane was configured with two seats on one side of the aisle and three on the other, and Chelsea had managed to snag the two-seat side when she’d made their reservations. She’d requested the window, which was fine with him because he preferred the aisle.

      Once they were buckled in, she turned to him. “‘Thank you, ma’am’?”

      “I swear it’s the hat. I put it on and my words come out different.”

      “You wore it for the photo shoot and I didn’t notice you calling me ma’am.”

      He laughed. “That’s because you were torturing me by making me hold a beer keg on my bare shoulder for hours on end.”

      “Minutes, O’Roarke. Mere minutes. You were such a baby about that shoot.”

      “It was embarrassing, posing shirtless and knowing come April I’ll be tacked up on someone’s wall.”

      “That reminds me...I brought calendars.”

      He groaned. “I was afraid you would.”

      “It’s a sales tool. Of course I had to bring them. You haven’t seen the final product, have you?” She pulled her laptop case out from under the seat in front of her.

      “No, and I don’t want to see it now.”

      “You need to look at it. Don’t forget, the Chance brothers volunteered, so this will give you a mental picture of each one before we get there.” She unzipped her case and pulled out a calendar.

      There was his buddy Cade on the front, manly and shirtless as he leaned against the hitching post with a rope coiled over one shoulder. “I don’t need that kind of mental picture of the Chance brothers, thank you very much.”

      “The pictures aren’t all like that.” She flipped through the calendar. “See? Here’s Jack Chance, fully dressed, sitting on his horse Bandit. He looks part Native American, don’t you think?”

      “I guess.” Finn had to admit that seeing the men in advance would help him remember their names when he met them.

      “And here’s Nick Chance, Dominique’s husband. My picture of you is okay, but I’m glad Dominique was available to take the bulk of the shots because she’s such an amazing photographer. And obviously in love with Nick.”

      Finn looked at the close-up of a smiling cowboy with dark hair and green eyes. His hat was shoved back, which made him seem friendly, as if he’d be a good guy to share a beer with. “You’re right. This helps. Where’s Gabe?”

      “Here.” Chelsea flipped to a picture of a sandy-haired man with a mustache. “Dominique said she had to heckle him to get him to unsnap his shirt but he finally did it.”

      “At least he was allowed to wear a shirt.” Finn gazed at the image of Gabe leading a brown-and-white Paint out of the barn. “Some of us weren’t so lucky.”

      “Hey, what have you got there?” The flight attendant paused next to his seat. “Oh, let me see!”

      Before Finn could protest, Chelsea handed it to her.

      “I love this! Can I hold on to it until after takeoff? I’ll bring it back.”

      “Sure,” Chelsea said. “Take your time.”

      As the flight attendant walked toward the front of the plane, Finn turned to glare at Chelsea. “Now you’ve done it.”

      “You were the one charming her with your hat and your ‘thank you, ma’am’ routine.”

      “I was just trying to be polite, but now she’s—”

      “A potential backer for Thunder Mountain Academy. Obviously your cowboy persona will be an asset this weekend. It never occurred to me that you should dress and act the part, although it should have, so props to you. Brilliant PR move.”

      “I wasn’t thinking of it as a PR move.” In some ways it had been a protective one. When a guy ended up in a foster home with no relatives to call his own, he tried to put his best foot forward whenever possible. Finn also owned a three-piece suit, but he was Wyoming born and knew that a suit wouldn’t impress the Chance family nearly as much as a nice hat and polished boots.

      “It’s a good look for you, Finn. You should dress like this more often.”

      He shook his head.

      “Why not?”

      “Because I refuse to be one of those guys who wears the clothes because he thinks they look cool but who’s never sat a horse or mucked out a stall.” He wished to hell the flight attendant didn’t have that calendar. Knowing they’d be mailed out to people he’d never met and probably never would meet was one thing. This was completely different.

      “But you have ridden and...what was that other thing?”

      “Mucked out a stall. Cleaned it out, in other words.”

      She studied him. “I can picture you doing that, especially now that I’ve seen you in this outfit. But I hope you don’t wear that gorgeous gray hat to muck out a stall.”

      “No, that’s my dress hat. Herb keeps some old straw ones for everyday chores.”

      “Oh, right. You were wearing something like that when all of you were at the ranch in June and you Skyped me about Kickstarter ideas. FYI, the gray felt is a vast improvement over that battered straw thing.”

      “Thanks.”

      “What? No ‘thank you, ma’am’?”

      He decided to lay it on thick. Served her right. He gave her his most winning smile and his deepest drawl. “Thank you, ma’am.”

      She stared at him for a full three seconds. Then she swallowed and looked away. “You’re welcome.”

      Uh-oh. He’d meant it sarcastically, but apparently it hadn’t affected her that way. Unless he was mistaken, he’d just turned her on. And that could present a problem.

      Hell, who was he kidding? They’d always had a problem. From that first day in the coffee shop he’d been fascinated by her creativity and zest for life. He loved watching her talk and hearing her laugh. Her mouth was perfect and her skin was impossibly soft, not that he allowed himself to touch it except by accident.

      The thought of interacting with her on a personal level as well as a business one scared the crap out of him. If he once gave in and took her to bed, СКАЧАТЬ