by Brenda Novak
“How do I know? I can only see so far down the road.”
“But if you aren’t careful, if you take a wrong turn, you’ll wind up at a dead end.”
“Isn’t that why you have to trust your gut?”
“I think, in this case, it might be smarter to trust your friends.”
Cheyenne saw Dylan’s Jeep coming down the road and jumped to her feet. She knew he could simply be heading home for lunch. He and his brothers went past her place all the time. But he turned in.
“He’s here,” she whispered into the phone.
“Let me talk to him,” Eve said.
Cheyenne lowered her head so Dylan wouldn’t be able to see her face. “No.”
“I’ll be nice.”
“You won’t. You’re too protective of me. You feel my mother’s already shortchanged me and you’re not going to let anyone else do the same.”
“Damn right!”
“See? I’ll talk to you when you get off the boat.” She hung up as Dylan approached.
“Any word on Presley?” he asked.
Putting her phone on the railing next to the ashtray, she shook her head. “What are you doing home this time of day?”
“Work’s over.”
“At noon?”
“We closed up early for Christmas Eve.”
Cheyenne hadn’t realized what day it was; she’d lost track in the haze of recent events. “Oh. Right. I guess it is. Where’re your brothers?”
“They went to grab a bite.”
“And you didn’t go with them?”
He didn’t respond. It was obvious he’d come to see her instead. And that made it even harder to resist her feelings for him.
As he climbed the steps, his eyes shifted to the rose and card she’d left on the table. “A not-so-secret admirer?”
“Joe.”
“Ah, my competition hard at work.”
“He wants to talk to me about you.”
“What will you tell him?” He sat on the steps and stared out at the yard instead of looking at her. “You could blame it all on me if you’ve changed your mind again.” He was referring to her promise from last night.
“I haven’t changed my mind. I’ll tell him the truth.”
Twisting around, he glanced back at her. “Which is…”
“I can’t stop seeing you.”
A crooked grin suddenly curved his lips. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate your honesty.”
“I’m not sure what he’ll say.”
He patted his pocket as if he wanted to smoke, but didn’t pull out a pack of cigarettes. “When is this supposed to occur?”
“I don’t know, but…he invited me over for Christmas.”
Dylan’s smile disappeared. “Are you going?”
“It’ll be hard to have Christmas without Presley,” she said as she sank into her chair.
“Sitting here alone won’t help.”
“I’ve got my mother’s funeral to plan.”
He clasped his knees loosely to his chest. “That can wait, Chey. Presley’s coming back.”
He said it so matter-of-factly; she hoped he was right. “So you’re trying to talk me into going?”
His expression let her know what he thought of that. “I’d rather you came to my place. It’s not like any of us do any baking, but…we buy that big Christmas dinner from Nature’s Way and—” he shrugged “—it’s not too bad.”
She could imagine how unconventional Christmas might be at the Amoses, but she was used to unconventional holidays. It didn’t matter as long as Dylan was there. “I could do some baking. That would give me something to focus on besides my worry.”
“I wouldn’t mind a homemade pie or two.”
“Pumpkin?”
“And pecan. But before you start, let’s go to the police.”
The warm feeling that had come over her at the prospect of sharing Christmas with Dylan vanished. “I tried. They don’t care that she’s gone.”
“They’ll care at some point. We have to push them, get them involved. We need the help.”
We. It felt so good to have some support, especially his support. “Okay. I’ll get showered.”
He looked up at her when she stood, his eyelids half-lowered in predatory interest. “Alone?”
25
She was falling in love. Right in the middle of the worst week of her life. It didn’t make sense that she’d lose her heart to this particular guy when she thought she was already in love with the “ideal” man. But it was Dylan’s smile that put butterflies in her stomach. Dylan’s smell that made her eager to bury her face in his neck. Dylan’s touch that left her feeling warm inside. Maybe she was bucking her own better judgment—not to mention the advice of her best friend, who’d never led her wrong—but her heart simply would not cooperate with the idea of staying away from him.
Neither would her body.
As he stared up at her from his seat on the porch stairs, waiting for her answer, she had to ask herself, Am I really going to give up Joe DeMarco for Dylan Amos?
But she knew the answer.
“Sounds like Santa might be coming to my house, after all,” she said, and he laughed as she pulled him to his feet.
* * *
“What are you smiling at?” Cheyenne murmured above the sound of the water.
They’d barely spoken since they’d undressed and stepped into the shower. They’d been too busy enjoying the sensation of slick, wet skin against slick, wet skin, but when she said this, Dylan moved to shield her face from the spray so they could talk. “I’ve never seen you naked, not in daylight. It makes me feel lucky.”
She blushed, and he nearly drew her into his arms. He loved how honestly delighted she seemed by even the smallest compliment.
“What are you smiling at?” he teased.
“I was remembering about that day in the park.” She shivered as he bent his head to lick a drop of water off the tip of one breast. “I can’t believe you said what you did to me,” she continued. “‘You ever want me to show you what it feels like to have a man in your bed, you know where to find me.’ Don’t you think that was a little bold, Mr. Amos?”
He chuckled as he turned his attention to her other breast. “It worked, didn’t it?”
“I’m embarrassed to say it was far more effective than it should’ve been.”
“No guts, no glory,” he said. But that wasn’t what he’d been thinking at the time. He’d assumed she’d shut him down no matter what. So he’d acted as if he had nothing to lose.
She laughed as she traced the lion inked on his chest. “What does this represent?”
“My mother was a Leo.” She’d called him her lion cub, since he was also a Leo, but he didn’t add that.
“And this one?”
“The scales of justice.” He tried to kiss her, but she held him off.
“I know that. I want to know why you picked it.”
“I’m not entirely sure. It just…spoke to me. When I got it, I was determined to make things right.”
“For…”
“Myself. My brothers. All of us.”
“And you did.”
“I did what I could.”
She caught his face between her hands. “I’m so happy right now. I’m sick with worry for my sister and yet, when I think of you, I’m happy. Is that crazy?”
He was too distracted to have a serious conversation. He couldn’t wait to make love to her now that she seemed to feel something for him. But what she’d said was important enough to address here and now, so he stemmed the desire threatening to carry him away. “Not at all, because your sister is going to come back soon, and she’ll be fine, so worrying would only ruin your day.” He dropped a quick kiss on her lips. “And you’re about to get lucky. That makes most people happy.”
Closing her eyes, she pressed her cheek to his chest. “I don’t think my happiness has anything to do with getting lucky.”
He slid his hands down her smoo
th back to curl around her bottom. Then he hauled her up against him. “You might be speaking too soon.”
“I know what I’m saying. How I feel comes from being with you, no matter what we’re doing. When we were watching that movie at your place, and I was clear across the room, I couldn’t think of anything except getting closer to you, curling up against you.”
He smoothed her wet hair out of her eyes. Did she really know what she was doing, picking him? He’d never dreamed he’d wind up with her, not over Joe. What if he disappointed her? Or tomorrow she came to her senses? “Joe’s a good guy, Chey. He—”
“He is a good guy,” she interrupted. “He took the news that I’m sleeping with you so graciously. But…”
“But?”
“He isn’t you.” She brought his mouth to hers and kissed him, openmouthed and hungry.
Arousal, hot and thick, pumped through Dylan’s blood. The flat of her stomach brushed against him, making him even harder. “All this enthusiasm from my little virgin?” he murmured against her lips.
“I’ve got a lot more where that came from.” She tried to draw him back for another kiss. Their lovemaking was about to turn from sweet and enjoyable to intense. But before he reached for the condom they’d brought in with them, he wanted to experiment.
“In a minute you’re going to love me even more.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“You’ll see.” Pressing her up against the tile, he dropped to his knees and, if his mouth hadn’t been otherwise occupied, would’ve grinned from ear to ear when her hands anchored his head in place and she gasped his name.
* * *
Dylan was standing in front of her Christmas tree when Cheyenne, who’d finished getting ready, walked into the living room.
“You don’t have any presents under here,” he said.
“You don’t have any presents under your tree, either,” she told him. “You don’t even have any decorations.”
“We’re guys,” he said as if that explained it all. “I’m fairly sure this isn’t normal for three women, though.”
She thought of the gifts she had yet to wrap. The way Presley had put off shopping, she probably hadn’t bought any. Chances were, she didn’t have the money, but that wasn’t unusual. The more she got involved with drugs, the less she cared about anything else. “We’re not normal women. And this hasn’t been a normal year. Not that we’ve ever had much to give one another. Do you and your brothers exchange gifts?”
“We do. Now that we’re all adults, those gifts just aren’t things that can be wrapped. Even if they are, we pretty much leave them in a bag.”
She shook her head. “You need a woman over there.”
“That’s why I’m taking you home.” He swatted her behind. “For Christmas decorations and pies and present wrapping.”
“I thought it was for sex,” she teased.
“That, too.”
“After what you did in the shower I’ll gladly follow you anywhere.” She gave him a saucy smile. “Besides, you still owe me seventeen questions.”
He grinned, obviously proud of what he’d accomplished a few minutes earlier. But she couldn’t focus on how much she loved the contrast between his tough-guy image and the sensitive heart he guarded so well. She’d just caught sight of the rose and card she’d carried in from the porch earlier. “But first I have to call Joe.”
His jocularity faded. “Right this minute?”
“Yes… Before we go out in public. I wouldn’t want to run into him or…or make him feel as if I’ve made a fool of him.”
“He warned me to stay away from you last night.”
“He did?” She hadn’t thought he’d care enough, not after what she’d revealed to him.
“To be honest, I wanted to warn him off, too. Guys can be territorial.”
So could women. She was feeling rather territorial herself. Stepping up to him, she swept a kiss across his lips. “And, of course, you realized you were getting in his way and immediately backed off.”
With a chuckle at her sarcasm, he put his arms around her and rubbed his cheek against her neck. “I knew the two of you had it wrong.”
“Had what wrong?” she said when he let her go.
His gaze met and held hers. “I knew you belonged with me.”
It was hard to believe she’d once found Dylan less attractive than Joe. Now she felt exactly the opposite. “I just have to figure out a gentle way to break this to him.”
His smile shifted toward the devilish. “I’d be happy to take care of that for you.”
Cheyenne knew he was only joking, but she explained why she felt it was important not to create bad feelings despite that. “He’s someone I’ve always admired, someone who’s looked out for me in the past. He’s also the brother of one of my best friends. I have to be careful.”
He nodded. “Would you like some privacy?”
“Not for my sake, but…I’d want the conversation to be private if I were him, so I’d like to give him that.”
“I’ll go home and make sure someone put the dogs out in the yard. Call me when you’re done.”
She nodded but couldn’t let him leave without a final, lingering kiss.
* * *
Even with Dylan gone, it was hard for Cheyenne to call Joe. She almost dialed Gail’s cell first. She wanted to tell her friend why she was about to do what she was going to do. But she knew Gail would say the same thing as Eve. They’d both try to convince her not to make the “mistake” she was making. They’d say she couldn’t trust a guy like Dylan.
But they didn’t know Dylan. Surely, if they did, they’d see his better qualities—wouldn’t they?
Too tense to sit back, she perched on the edge of the couch and stared into the fireplace, remembering the night Joe had come over and built a fire. She’d been so infatuated with him. She’d thought it was love, but…she’d merely been in love with what he represented.
With a sigh, she scrolled through the call history on her phone. She’d received a slew of calls yesterday—people reacting to the news of her mother’s death. She’d been too busy searching for Presley to do more than quickly sift through the messages.
But being preoccupied with Presley’s situation wasn’t the only reason she’d avoided the people closest to her. She’d been afraid of what she might reveal if she talked to them. She hadn’t come to terms with the evidence that suggested Anita’d had help dying....
Presley had added one more skeleton to the family closet....
“Why?” she asked, appealing to the empty house. But why didn’t matter when dealing with her sister and mother. She had to face the reality and cope with it, because there was no changing them. She’d learned that long ago.
Presley could be anywhere. It was that thought and the need to get the police out searching that made her stop procrastinating and call.
Joe picked up immediately. “There you are. How are…things?”
“Okay. Thanks for the concern. And for the flower and card. That was thoughtful of you.”
“It was nothing. I’ve been worried.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I should’ve called sooner.”
“No problem. Did you find Presley?”
She propped his card up on the mantel. “Not yet.”
“I’m sure she’ll come back when she’s ready.”
“Maybe,” she said, but how could her sister come back after killing Anita?
“It’s a hell of a thing to deal with at Christmas. I can’t believe the timing of this. What can I do to help?”
“Nothing. I’ve looked everywhere. I’m counting on the police to get involved. At this point, they’re my only hope.”
“That’s tough. Waiting must be so hard.” He paused. “Is there any chance you’re coming for dinner tomorrow? I told the girls you might. They’re excited to meet you.”
He’d mentioned her to Josephine and Summer? “I would love to meet them, too, but—” she straightened
her spine “—I’m going to be at Dylan’s, Joe.”
Silence. Then, “Does that mean what I think it does?”
Was it a mistake to make this decision now? Probably. But she couldn’t deny what she felt. “Yes.”
“You’re officially seeing him.”
“I’m afraid so.”
She thought he might give her all the reasons she shouldn’t, but he didn’t.
“Dylan and I have had a professional relationship for years.”
Here we go… She bit her lip. “And?”
“I’ve always liked him.”
“That’s a generous thing to say. I hope…I hope there’re no hard feelings.”
“I feel like I missed out, Chey. I’m not going to lie. But there are no hard feelings.”
Suddenly deflated from all the stress, the worry and the secret she was carrying, she rested her head on the couch. “I’ve always thought so much of you, Joe.” She smiled as she fingered the rose he’d left for her. “It’s nice to know you’re everything I ever imagined.”
“I’m here if you need me,” he said. “Merry Christmas.”
* * *
“I can’t believe we’re at sea when all hell is breaking loose at home.” Eve smacked herself on the forehead. “I knew I shouldn’t have gone.”
As usual, Callie and the others had joined her for morning brunch, but they’d eaten so much over the course of the past ten days that no one was very interested in food. Mostly, they nursed their coffees while talking, the same as they did every Friday in Whiskey Creek when they congregated at Black Gold Coffee. Except that Cheyenne wasn’t there. Eve was feeling her absence more acutely today than ever.
“You can’t blame yourself for taking a trip you planned for two years,” Callie said. “I mean…I feel guilty, too, but…we were well past the refund period by the time we realized that Cheyenne’s mother would likely die while we were gone.”
“Anita lasted so long,” Noah said. “I guess I figured she’d last a little longer. Or somehow go back into remission.”
Baxter combed his fingers through his thick, wavy hair. “What could we have done even if we’d stayed? What could anyone do?”
Eve speared him with a look. “I hope you’re kidding.”