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Harper’s dark eyes sparkled. “Amber, I’d like you to meet Thunder Morgan.”
Chapter Ten
Amber’s pulse pounded inside her head. What the fuck has he done? She was in no condition to meet her birth father. She’d just been blackmailed, for God’s sake. To be fair, Harper didn’t know that, but still, he was interfering in something that wasn’t his business. Who did he think he was, anyway?
“Harper”—she forced a smile—“may I see you inside for a moment?”
“What’s up?”
She steadied her breathing, afraid she might lose control. “Just something I need to get your opinion on in the kitchen. You don’t mind, do you, Mr. Morgan?”
“Not at all.”
She clenched her teeth. Could this day get any worse? “We’ll only be a minute.”
She dragged Harper through the kitchen and out into the living room where she could be sure Thunder Morgan wouldn’t hear them.
“What in God’s name were you thinking?”
“Relax.” He pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “I didn’t tell him anything. I just gave him a call when I got back home this morning and found out he was in Denver for a few weeks. So I invited him up for dinner. He’s a great guy. I want you to get to know him.”
Amber stared at him. He was actually serious. “And exactly what do you propose I say to him? ‘Hi, I’m the daughter you never knew you had?’”
“Of course not. As far as he knows, at least for tonight, you’re my friend. My date. Whatever you want to be.”
“What I want to be is not here.”
“Amber, come on. I didn’t tell him your last name, so no worries. I thought you’d be happy to meet him.”
“You caught me off guard, Harper. Jesus! Don’t you think I might have liked a little time to prepare for this?”
“If I had given you time to prepare for it you would have freaked out.”
“Uh…yeah. Kind of like I’m doing now?”
“I mean you would have freaked yourself out into a frenzy before he ever go here. Now you can just go with the flow.”
She paced around his Berber carpet, sure she was wearing tracks in it. “Does this look like a person who’s going with the flow?”
“Calm down, baby. You’re going to get along great.”
“So I’m just supposed to—what?—talk about what exactly? What do I have to say to a bronc buster?”
“You’re the rodeo queen. You have a lot in common. You represent the rodeo.”
Yeah, the rodeo queen. If Blake Buchanan had anything to say about it, she’d be dethroned in a week’s time.
“And a few days ago you talked about learning barrel racing.”
She rubbed her temples. Her interest in barrel racing seemed like a lifetime ago. Yet he was right. It had only been a few days ago. Why, oh why, had she ever wanted to race? If she hadn’t, Catie wouldn’t have introduced her to Blake Buchanan, and he wouldn’t have recognized her from Rachel’s and started snooping around on the Internet.
What if, what if, what if?
What if her mother hadn’t kicked her out? What if she’d been able to get work doing nails and had never gon
e to Rachel’s?
She sighed. Life was full of “what ifs.”
