Prelude and Promises

by Barbara Baldwin

  A faint whiff of perfume made him smile as he remembered last night and how Cheyenne had fallen apart in his arms. He spun her into a turn and she lifted her head with a laugh. Her eyes sparkled and he bent to kiss her. Perhaps he was lucky enough to have already found what he was seeking.

  Chapter 10

  They danced for hours. The DJ did a credible job of switching the music between fast and slow, current and past tunes. She didn’t always partner with Jake for he was in high demand. She enjoyed watching him when she sat on the sidelines, for he bestowed his smile on young and old alike. At the end of a dance with the tiny flower girl, she saw him signal the DJ as he came back to where she sat.

  The music started, slow and bluesy and he pulled her into his arms. She curled against him as he nuzzled her hair. If the world ended tomorrow, she thought, she would be content.

  “I want to take you to the cottage, spread a blanket on the sand, and make love to you,” he whispered in her ear. She felt his erection pressing into her middle, but heard reluctance in his voice.

  “But?” she questioned.

  “I have to leave,” he said as he rubbed a hand down her back to her waist.

  She tilted back to see his face. So much for contentment. She thought for sure this would be the night…she had so hoped it would be the night.

  He looked as forlorn as she felt. “Since it’s the Sheriff’s daughter’s wedding, he can’t leave. He asked me and a few others to help patrol down at the West Bay.”

  “For the rock concert?” Her question drew a reluctant smile.

  “Well, you’re up on the current doings.”

  “It’s a small island.” She threw his words back at him.

  “You can stay. I’ll catch a ride with one of the guys and you can take the Jeep back.”

  She shook her head. “I’m ready if you are.” There would be no sense staying if he wasn’t there.

  They said good bye to the bride and groom and walked through the darkness to his Jeep. In minutes, they were back at the B&B and she reluctantly let him pull her up the steps.

  He turned to face her. His kiss was gentle, which was probably for the best. If he had given her any choice, she would have dragged him upstairs to her room.

  “I want you,” he whispered raggedly. “More than you know.”

  She doubted he could want any more than she did.

  “Do what you need to do. We have all the time in the world.” The words tasted bitter on her tongue because she knew that time was running out.

  * * *

  Cheyenne didn’t hear from Jake the next day, but figured he was catching up on his sleep after staying up half the night at the concert. She ran into Lindsay late in the afternoon while out for a walk and found that not only had he spent the night keeping others out of trouble, a large group of them, herself included, had descended on West Bay that morning on trash patrol.

  “You should have called me,” Cheyenne said. “I can pick up litter.”

  “You wouldn’t have wanted to handle the mess those people left behind. Honestly, what would it have hurt to throw a bottle into the trash can instead of at it? And that wasn’t the worst of it.” Lindsay shuddered before continuing. “Then of course, there were the leftovers. Even though the ferry extended its service until two in the morning, a large group couldn’t see their way back to town, so they just curled up on the beach and in the park. Jake helped the deputies round up the strays and point them towards the ferry port. From the smell of most of them, beer wasn’t the only thing they inhaled last night.”

  Jake had no business being out in a crowd like Lindsay described. “When did you see him last?” She didn’t want to call if he was sleeping, but she was worried.

  “Oh, don’t worry about Jake.” Lindsay read her thoughts. “He dropped me off at my place around noon and said he was going home to sleep.”

  A twinge of jealousy appeared out of nowhere, causing her to purse her lips. She had no right to feel that way, but that didn’t stop the feeling.

  Lindsay took a phone call, then swung a leg over her bike. “Gotta go. You’re one lucky lady, Cheyenne,” she said with a sigh.

  Cheyenne raised her brows in surprise.

  “Not only is your man the handsomest devil I’ve seen in a long time, he has the hots for you. He couldn’t quit talking about you while we were picking up trash.”

  Cheyenne laughed. “He’s not my man, and I’m not sure that is a ringing endorsement.”

  Lindsay gave her a scowl. “Jake hasn’t been on the island long, but he’s made himself part of the community and everyone who is a lifetime resident adores him.” She stopped then grinned. “Well, George Franklin and Cam Bristol probably don’t adore him, but they like him well enough. When you first arrived, I would never have pegged you as his type, but you’ve changed and I think you’re good for him. If that’s a problem for you, then you should cut him loose because nobody wants to see him get hurt.” She pedaled off without a backward glance, leaving Cheyenne to think about what she had said.

  Sure, they had shared a few kisses; even some rather spectacular petting, but there was just too much difference between them. She was technically employed by him, for goodness sakes. And nothing that they had shared absolved her from her responsibility to the senior Mr. Donovan. There were only sixteen days left to convince Jake to return to Chicago. She thought about his parting remarks last night, about wanting to make love to her.

  No, she adamantly told herself. She would not use her body to get him to comply with his uncle’s wishes. There had to be another way.

  * * *

  Her phone pinged the next morning.

  Jake: Have dinner with me tonight.

  Cheyenne: Come back to Chicago with me.

  Jake: It wasn’t meant to be a negotiation. 

  Cheyenne: I had to try. ;)

  Jake: Please have dinner with me?

  Cheyenne: Can we go somewhere that has silverware?

  Jake:  See you at eight.

  Cheyenne went downstairs for breakfast. As she was enjoying her second cup of coffee, Mrs. Godfrey came and sat across from her.

  “As always, you serve an incredible breakfast,” Cheyenne said. The French toast today had been like nothing she had ever tasted; thick slices of bread with a batter that was sweet enough not to even need syrup and grilled to a crispy brown.

  “It’s a favorite, that’s for sure,” the older woman said. “Most of the guests will be leaving today since the festival is over, so I like to send them off with a hearty meal. Did you see the fireworks last night?”

  Cheyenne frowned. In her concern for Jake, she had completely forgotten about the festival and all it entailed. And as busy as Jake had been, it must have slipped his mind also.

  “No, but it’s not like I haven’t seen them before.”

  Mrs. Godfrey cocked her head. “You were in early last night. Why didn’t that young man of yours take you down to the pier? Did you have a spat?”

  Ah, village life.

  “He was helping the deputies down at West Bay.”

  Mrs. Godfrey nodded her head, as though that explained everything. “Jake Smith’s a very nice man and helps out, has ever since the day he set foot on the island.” She narrowed her gaze. “I hope nothing’s amiss.”

  Cheyenne ground her teeth. Lord help her if the residents of Lockabee found out the real reason she was here. They’d probably push her off the ferry dock and make her swim to the mainland. She worked hard to force a smile.

  “Everything’s fine. In fact, he’s asked me to dinner tonight, so I was wondering if my cleaning has come back.”

  Mrs. Godfrey beamed. “It arrived on the morning ferry and I hung it in the hall closet.” Then she frowned. “Those suits don’t seem quite the thing for here on the island. Do you have something a little more…” she paused and pursed her lips in thought.

  Cheyenne hung her head in defeat. Not only were the residents fiercely protective of Jake but now the
y were offering fashion advice for dating him?

  “I bought a dress, but I’ve already worn it several times. I suppose I could go back to the boutique.”

  Mrs. Godfrey looked at the wall clock. “Well, if Charlotte doesn’t have anything fancy enough, you have time to catch the eleven o’clock ferry and take a look at the waterfront shops in Red Haven.” She quickly put her hand over Cheyenne’s. “I’m not saying Charlotte won’t have what you want, but just in case she doesn’t have your size…or something.” The sentence dragged off and Cheyenne was sure Mrs. Godfrey now wondered if she would say something disparaging to the store owner.

  “I’m sure I can find something. In fact, I’ll go have a look right now.” She stood, anxious to get away. It wasn’t that all the islanders hadn’t been gracious, which of course was probably normal since their livelihoods depended on tourist traffic. It was more that she wasn’t used to the scrutiny she had received since coming here. Everyone knew everything. While she had told herself upon graduating community college that she would never be average again, she thought maybe now would be a good time to be part of an anonymous audience rather than the lead actress in a play where she didn’t know the lines, much less exactly what was going to happen in the next act.

  “Hello,” the saleslady said when Cheyenne entered the boutique. “You’re Lindsay’s friend.” The woman put out her hand. “I’m Charlotte. I hope you’re enjoying your stay on the island.”

  “Thank you, I am very much. I hadn’t intended to stay as long as I have, so I’m in need of more clothes.” She absently flipped through some clothes on a rack, wondering why she had told the woman that.

  She chuckled. “Sometimes unexpected delays can turn into unexpected surprises.”

  So true, she thought.

  “What do you have for dresses?”

  “Hmm. Casual or elegant?” Charlotte led her toward the back of the shop.

  “You have elegant?” Cheyenne asked without thought, so quickly added, “I’m sorry. It’s just that everything on the island appears to be quite casual.”

  Charlotte laughed. “You’re right, of course. However, the Prince Hotel is more upscale than the smaller inns and B&B’s, and their dining is quite exclusive, so we try to keep a few basics on hand in case someone comes unprepared. Is this a date with Jake?”

  Cheyenne groaned. She should have known. “It’s dinner, but I don’t know where we’re going and I’m not sure I’d call it a date.” Deflect gossip; another rule of being a good executive assistant.

  The woman, who appeared to be about her own age, smiled knowingly. “Honey, if I were going out with Jake Smith, I’d make sure it was a date.” She pulled a dress from the rack. “This should work.”

  It was your basic little black dress. The slim creation hung from very thin straps that criss-crossed in both front and back. The straps and a band across the bottom of the bodice were made of sequins that shimmered as she held it up.

  Cheyenne loved it, but wondered if it was too dressy and yet didn’t know how to ask without offending the saleslady.

  “You can’t go wrong with black,” Charlotte said. “Add this,” she grabbed a red silk wrap from a nearby counter, “and it will be dashing with your coloring.”

  She was right. The dress slid over Cheyenne’s hips to end just above her knees. The criss-cross straps accented her breasts, and the silk wrap gave it a splash of color. She came out of the dressing room to check herself in the full length mirror. Jake better not think she looked like a school teacher.

  “You look divine,” Charlotte said. “Now to accessorize.” She talked her into a pair of silver loop earrings and bangle bracelets, then glancing at her hair, added a silver clip. “Wear your hair up,” she said. “That will show off the line of your neck and the dress straps, which by the way are very sexy. Shoes?”

  “I have heels that will work nicely,” Cheyenne said, cringing already at the cost of a single outfit. As she turned to go back into the dressing room she glanced again in the mirror. This had better be worth it.

  She spent the afternoon on correspondence. Regardless of the fact that she had permission to be here and not in the office, Mr. Donovan kept forwarding things for her to do. It made her feel a little less guilty for not having already told him about Jake. That was still a predicament for which she had no answer.

  At five, she shut down her computer and soaked in a bubble bath. She repainted her toenails a bright red that matched the silk wrap. She powdered and primped and perfumed, and her stomach fluttered as badly as if she were going to her first prom. Which she had never done, but she was sure the feeling was similar.

  At promptly eight, the room phone rang.

  “Hello?”

  It was Mrs. Godfrey. “Cheyenne, there’s a lovely young man downstairs for you.” She hung up with a giggle, and Cheyenne felt she was in a boarding house where no man was ever allowed past the front parlor. She gave one final glance in the mirror, grabbed her clutch (another purchase at the boutique as all she had was a handbag), and went downstairs.

  His back was to her when she entered the parlor, and for a moment, she thought he was someone else. A navy blazer stretched the width of his shoulders and tapered down his lean hips. He wore beige dress pants, and she was suddenly very happy Charlotte had talked her into the dress. The only thing he hadn’t changed was his hair, but she had grown fond of the beach boy look on him.

  He sensed her presence and turned, his eyes lighting up as his gaze slid down her length and back up. He had finished his ensemble with a white dress shirt, open at the throat, which set off his deep tan. As his lips curved into a very seductive smile, he walked toward her.

  “My, my. Don’t you look fine, Cheyenne Tucker.” He stopped in front of her and held out a single yellow rose. “A symbol of my esteem, yet meager in the light of your beauty.”

  She tried not to giggle, honestly she did, but the merry sound escaped her lips. “You did not just make that up.”

  He gave her a mocking look. “How can you doubt me?”

  “Because nobody talks like that anymore, and especially no one has ever talked that way to me.”

  He took a step even closer and bent to her ear. “Then you have been hanging out with the wrong people because you are truly exquisite tonight.”

  She blushed. For as much as she had been around Jake lately, and even after the kisses they had shared, she was still a little uncertain about her appeal. She had never had a man look at her with the kind of adoration Jake did. It both elated and frightened her.

  He kissed her cheek and stepped back, once again surveying her. He tilted his head to the side, gave a little hmm, and dug in his pocket, coming up with a small knife. “I think,” he said as he flipped it open and cut the stem of the rose to no more than an inch, “this is needed right here.” He then tucked the rose into her cleavage, his knuckles brushing gently against her skin. The sweet smell floated between them.

  When she lifted her gaze to him, he was still staring at her breasts and the flower nestled between them.

  “Do we have to go to dinner?” he whispered raggedly, his breath warm on her skin.

  “But you dressed in a coat.” Her answer was breathless.

  “And you bought a new dress.” His gaze darkened.

  “You promised me silverware.”

  Her comment broke the moment and he laughed, kissing her on the nose. “Until later.”

  Chapter 11

  Cheyenne wondered where Jake was taking her as he drove west down Main Street, then turned south to drive along the coast. The sun was low in the horizon and the blue water of the Pacific cast diamonds into the air as waves broke against the rocks.

  “Have you been this way?” he asked.

  “No. It’s beautiful. A little more fierce than the protected harbor and ferry port.”

  He slowed so she could appreciate the view. “Except for Sunset Beach, this entire side of the island is cliffs.”

  “Then wher
e are we going?” She turned toward him.

  He glanced briefly at her before returning his gaze to the road, which curved inward then toward the edge of the cliff. He wasn’t going fast and she wasn’t afraid, more like in awe of the sheer drop-off with only a guardrail to protect them from mishap.

  “Windy Harbor is down on the south end, a natural port protected from the pacific winds so a perfect place for a marina. It is also the home of the Lockabee Yacht Club. Very exclusive.” He turned again to wiggle his brows.

  “And your little motor boat qualifies you for membership?”

  He laughed as he pulled into a parking spot. “No membership, just connections.”

  “Of course. I keep forgetting how adored you are by all the residents.”

  He shot her another quick glance as he got out of the Jeep and came around to her side. “You’re kidding. Says who?”

  “Everyone,” she said exasperated. “Except apparently the sheriff and the bartender. They simply like, not adore.”

  She put her hand in his as he helped her out and closed the door behind her. He had a thoughtful expression as he led her into the Yacht Club but didn’t say anymore as the maitre d' led them to a table by the window. Once they were seated and he had ordered a bottle of wine, he finally smiled.

  “You say people like me?”

  “Of course. You’re famous and you play the piano like a dream.”

  “No, I don’t care about that. I mean people here like me?”