“I took care of it, Cat.” She loved the sound of her name on his lips. She loved it even more when he circled one ankle with his hand and ever so slowly pulled her toward him until she was flat on her back. He straddled her legs and stretched out over her until his weight bore her down on the mattress.
“Now,” he whispered as he kissed first one breast, then the other. “I will take care of you.”
When Cheyenne woke up a second time, Jake was no longer beside her. She called to him and when he didn’t answer, she assumed he might be outside. She took a quick shower and threw on some clothes. She looked out the back window to see him down on the dock, so dug through the fridge for some cans of soda, grabbed a bag of chips she found on the counter, and hurried after him.
While she had showered, she thought about the limited number of days she had left before the deadline Donovan had given her. She wouldn’t mention it again to Jake, because she realized that whatever happened between the two men, it was really out of her hands. What had her in a panic was that in that same number of days, she would have to say good bye to Jake.
She didn’t know if she loved him. That term was not something that had been part of her life other than the love she felt for her sister. But she knew what she felt for Jake was more than the physical. He made her laugh and cry, caused anger and frustration, but she wouldn’t have given up a minute of her time with him. So she decided to make the most of the time she did have.
“Hey, want a soda?” she asked as she walked to the end of the dock where he stood, fishing pole in hand.
“Shhhh, you’ll scare the fish away.” He held the rod with his right hand and tugged her close with the other.
“That’s such a….fish tale.” She laughed.
“How do you know? Have you ever asked a fish?”
“Well,” she gave him a seductive smile. “I have been called a mermaid.”
He kissed the tip of her nose. “More like a siren.”
She pretended to pout. “I don’t lure men to their deaths.”
It was his turn to laugh. “La petite mort.”
“Whoa!” He released her to grab the pole with both hands, then swore as it smacked against the gash on his palm. The tip of the rod dipped toward the water.
“You’ve got a bite!” she said excitedly.
“Here, take the pole. I can’t hold it and reel in the line with this hand.”
“I don’t know what to do. I’ve never fished in my life.”
“A first time for everything. I’ll help you; I just can’t handle the pressure against my hand.” The pole bent again, the tip almost at the water.
She took the pole in both hands, feeling the power of the fish pulling at her. Jake stood at her back, giving her instructions. He held the pole steady with his good hand over hers, and showed her how lift the angle, then reel in the slack.
“You’ve got it; keep it up.”
She felt a sense of exhilaration when the fish leaped out of the water, but if Jake hadn’t had an arm around her, she would most likely have fallen in the water. Once the fish, a Pacific Herring, Jake said, was close, he used the net to scoop it up.
“Dinner tonight,” he said, carefully removing the hook. Cheyenne looked at the fish. It wasn’t quite as large as it had looked in the water.
“One fish?” she asked and Jake laughed.
Kneeling on the dock he pulled up a stringer on which half dozen fish dangled and added hers to the clip. “Grab the pole and follow me. I’ll show you how to gut and fillet them.”
“I don’t think so,” she grimaced as they walked up the slope to the back porch. “Do you have any corn meal?”
He shrugged. “Probably.”
“You do the fish and I’ll see if you have what it takes for hush puppies.”
He stopped in his tracks. “You really do cook?”
She smacked him on the arm. “Do not even start on me or I will burn your ears listing all my attributes.”
He gave her a wolfish grin. “There’s only one particular attribute I’m interested in.”
They worked side by side in the little kitchen and Jake had never felt so content in his life. When he had first begun playing the piano, the music had carried him away, releasing any tension and making him forget any troubles. But it had been a one sided affair. He enjoyed the give and take with Cheyenne, loved making her laugh and laughing with her in return. It was a relationship where both of them were giving more than they took and he relished spending the rest of his life with her, whatever that life entailed.
He put the fillets on the grill while she made hush puppies and when everything was ready, he grabbed some beer from the fridge. They took their plates out on the porch to eat and watch the sun go down.
He reached for his beer and bumped his hand. Swearing, he pulled back and started to unwrap the bandage.
“Let me see it,” Cheyenne said. He placed his hand in her outstretched one. “It doesn’t appear to be swollen any more, nor is it red so I don’t think it’s infected. We really should get you in to the doctor just to be sure.”
“I haven’t heard anything from George, but we can’t hide out indefinitely.” He carefully turned his hand in hers, sliding up to circle her wrist. “While I would like to think we could live on sex, I’m afraid my stamina may deteriorate to the point where all I can do is lie on my back and let you do the work.”
Cheyenne knew he was baiting her. She licked her lips and gave him her most seductive smile. “I have never been afraid of hard work.”
He pulled, tugging her around the table and onto his lap. Laughing, she circled his neck and laid her head on his shoulder. His hand slid up her thigh to stop just under the hem of her shorts. That was all he seemed to need, for he gave a sigh and didn’t move for the longest time. Together they watched the sky darken to deep purple, then a partial golden moon peeked over the horizon, its reflected light sparkling across the inky water. Soon it was full dark and a million stars twinkled above them.
“It’s beautiful here,” she said. “How did you ever find such a place?”
“I spun a globe, closed my eyes and put out my finger.”
“Seriously?” She lifted her head enough to see his eyes glitter.
“Actually, the Washington coast has always held an appeal, but I didn’t want a large city so I started looking at small, out of the mainstream islands.”
“The better to hide.”
He sighed. “I never meant it to be hiding. I simply needed to get away from everything and I couldn’t do that while my mother…while she still needed me.”
Cheyenne understood. “In a way, I did the same thing. I hated Sweetwater. It was small and dusty and I knew I had no future there. I hung on by a thread until Laramie graduated and then I took the first bus north.”
“What about her? You didn’t just leave her?”
“Of course not. She married her high school sweetheart and they are perfectly content. He ranches with his parents, cattle and horses and some such.”
They lapsed into silence and it was so comfortable Cheyenne nearly went to sleep. She couldn’t believe so much had happened in the past few days, just since their dinner and car chase.
That made her sit up and wiggle around to face Jake.
“I have a question.”
His eyes had been closed. Now, he opened one to peer at her. “Only one?”
She poked him in the chest. He caught her hand and held it against his heart and Cheyenne almost forgot what she had been thinking about. She could feel the steady beat beneath her fingers and longed to place a kiss right there. She placed one instead on his neck where the pulse throbbed. Immediately she felt his erection swell beneath her fanny.
“You’d better hurry,” he said huskily.
“I was thinking about those guys chasing us and how we hid in the car wash.”
“Okay.” He slid his arm under her knees and started to get up.
“Wait. That wasn’t the question.”
“Leave it to you to be grammatically correct.”
She kissed him lightly in appeasement. “I’m simply trying to make sure there has been adequate time since dinner before we…”
“We’re not going swimming, Cat.” He laughed. “I assure you if I get cramps it will be from holding back. You have ten seconds.”
“Why is there a car wash on an island that doesn’t allow cars?”
Well, that came out of nowhere. “We have cars.”
She laughed. “Maybe twenty? Speaking of, how do you have one? You’re not exactly a life-long resident.”
“It came with the cottage and there’s probably more than twenty, but from what I’ve heard, fifty years or so ago, cars were allowed on the island. People would drive around all day seeing the sights and park on the sand, but the salt air settled on the cars, causing rust if it wasn’t washed off frequently. Hank took a notion to start washing cars by hand down at the ferry port as people waited to leave. Over the years he made a ton of money and had just built the auto wash before the island council decided to only allow resident cars on the island.”
“How unfair for him.”
Jake shrugged. “But better for the island. There is less air pollution, we need fewer gas stations which preserves the landscape and fewer accidents for a two man police force to handle. Plus it was the incentive for other businesses to spring up—bicycle rentals and repairs and the rickshaw taxis.”
“So they sacrificed one for the good of many,” she said defensively.
“No one was sacrificed. This isn’t Survivor. Every car owner on the island probably gets their car washed once a week at Hank’s.”
“That hardly makes a living wage.”
“Why are you defending the man? You only met him once.”
She gave him a cheeky grin and said, “I liked him. No one has ever called me a looker before.”
He laughed. “Your ten seconds are up.” With that, he scooped her up and headed for the cottage, his voice dropping to a sexy drawl. “Hank said he had good eyesight. I would say he’s right.”
Chapter 15
Cheyenne woke to the smell of coffee. When she wandered out of the bedroom, Jake’s gaze immediately found hers and he smiled as though he had just gotten his favorite toy for Christmas. She returned the smile with a grin. She had definitely gotten an early Christmas present, actually more than one and she blushed in memory.
“Where did you get that shirt, by the way?”
Cheyenne looked down. “Trevor bought it for me.”
“And you complained about the hats I picked out?”
She took the cup of coffee he handed her. “Neither of you have any fashion sense, but if you recall, all I had was that black dress.”
“In which you looked totally sexy, by the way. You’ll have to wear it again sometime.” He paused as he scooped scrambled eggs onto a couple of blue speckled tin plates. “So I can get you out of it again.” He had handed her a plate and she almost dropped it at his suggestion. “Don’t you dare drop that. It was the last of the eggs and until Lindsay gets here, we’re going to be living on beer.”
As though by magic, or telepathy, there was a knock at the door. Jake, bare chested and sexily indecent, went to answer it as Cheyenne raced back into the bedroom for her shorts. When she immerged, Lindsay was pulling in her suitcase and Jake followed her with two bags of groceries. Cheyenne started to speak but never got a chance.
“Girl, you are the talk of the town!” Making herself perfectly at home, Lindsay went to the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee.
Cheyenne collapsed into a chair. “Why?” she asked weakly although she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
“Are you going to eat those?” She pointed to the plate of eggs.
Cheyenne’s stomach was too full of butterflies to think about putting eggs in it. She pushed the plate toward Lindsay.
“What’s going on?” Jake asked, head in the fridge as he deposited milk, more eggs, meat and beer and shut the door.
“Well, first everybody knows you two have been seeing one another, but now we have Trevor Sycamore buying you clothes,” Lindsay pointed at her with the fork, “and Trevor is in a relationship with Charlotte.”
“But Charlotte knew why he was doing that,” Cheyenne tried to defend herself.
“Yes, but that doesn’t put the brakes on the gossip wheels. Especially when I get your clothes and check you out of the Inn with Mrs. Godfrey.”
“You checked me out?” she asked but her gaze was on Jake. He gave her an innocent grin. “Wait. You didn’t tell Mrs. Godfrey where I was, did you?”
“No, but that’s why there’s so much gossip. You, me, Charlotte, Trevor, Jake—it’s a kinky little five-some so everyone is speculating.”
Cheyenne covered her face with her hands.
“Everyone?” The last thing in the world Cheyenne had ever wanted was gossip, even knowing it would most likely never reach Chicago.
“This is Lockabee,” Jake and Lindsay said in unison.
Cheyenne didn’t have time to stew before Jake asked, “Is there any talk about those strangers who were following us?”
“How would she know about that?” Cheyenne asked.
Lindsay and Jake both looked at her.
“Never mind.”
“I didn’t hear anything but you might call Sheriff Franklin.”
“We should go into town,” Jake said.
“I’d take you but I have some passengers waiting for a ride back to town from East Bay.” Lindsay finished her coffee and stood.
“I’ll drive,” Jake said.
Her brows rose. “I didn’t see your car outside. Going to take the boat?”
“Damn. I forgot it’s at Trevor’s. I’ll have to get him to come pick us up.”
Jake went into the bedroom and came out with some cash which he pressed into Lindsay’s hand. “Thanks for getting the groceries.”
“And my clothes,” Cheyenne added. “You did get my computer, too, didn’t you?”
“Everything’s present and accounted for. Mrs. Godfrey said she had your credit card on file so you’re good with her.”
Jake saw Lindsay out and Cheyenne dug through her bag. Pulling out a cord, she plugged in her phone, which had died yesterday. She hadn’t been able to charge it with Jake’s charger.
“What are you doing?” he asked when he came back.
“Seeing if I still have a job.” She looked at him. “I haven’t checked in or been on line in days.”
He didn’t say anything but his look spoke volumes. Neither of them wanted to mention the inevitable; time was running out.
“I’m taking a shower.”
As soon as the battery showed any life, Cheyenne checked her messages. To her surprise there were none. Was Mr. Donovan so mad at her for not checking in that he wasn’t even bothering to call? She booted up her computer and once again, nothing was new since the last time she had worked.
She quickly punched in the number she needed, but instead of Mr. Donovan, a female answered whose voice she didn’t recognize.
“Mr. Donovan, please.”
“I’m sorry, he can’t come to the phone.”
Cheyenne paused, then took the plunge. “This is his executive assistant, Cheyenne Tucker.”
“Oh.” The voice was startled, then hesitant. “Miss Tucker, do you have news?” There was coughing and grumbling in the background.
“Well, no,” she replied, “but I—”
“Goodbye.” The call disconnected.
Cheyenne stared at the phone in her hand. Had that been Mr. Donovan she heard in the background? Why wouldn’t he have spoken to her?
She looked toward the bathroom where she still heard the sound of water. Knowing there was nothing she could do for the moment, she quietly opened the door. Steam rushed to meet her.
“One thing about it, this place has a huge hot water heater.” Jake poked his head around the curtain. “But it doesn’t hurt to con
serve.”
Shaking off the foreboding she had felt over her phone call, she stripped quickly and stepped into the tub under the spray. She turned her back and rubbed against Jake’s soapy chest and he brought his hands up to cup her breasts. Her senses were immediately overwhelmed.
He turned her toward him, bending to capture a breast in his mouth. His hands slid down her belly and his long fingers sought her center. She in turn circled him, squeezing as her hand slid down the length of him and back up.
“Love me,” he whispered as he lifted her leg and she guided him to her.
And she suddenly realized that she did love him. She loved him because he saw her and accepted her for who she was. His tender lovemaking left her aching. She didn’t care if he lived like a beach bum on a little island in the middle of nowhere; she wanted to be there with him.
As he took her to the crest and they crashed over together, she knew that for now, her secret would remain locked in her heart. There were things that needed to be resolved and she only hoped they could be, before it was too late.
Their love play continued even after their initial thirst was quenched. He lathered his hands and washed her, lingering on her sensitive breasts. She soaped his hair and kissed him while scrubbing until bubbles got in her eyes. Laughing they stood under the spray until the water ran cold, then toweled off and raced for the bed.
Much later, he caressed her midriff before planting a kiss on her belly button.
“You’ve become my muse,” he said. “I dream of you. Of your smile and your hair, your graceful walk and your long legs.” As he spoke, he kissed his way down one of the aforementioned limbs, tickled her toes with his tongue, then kissed his way back up.
“You are the melody I hear in my head every waking moment.”
She didn’t know what to say to his elegant words but he didn’t seem to need a response. His head rested on her chest, the hand caressing her stomach finally stilled. As he slept, tears silently seeped from her eyes as she whispered, “I love you, Jake Smith, with my heart and soul. I just pray to God it will be enough.”
* * *
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