When Snow Falls (Whiskey Creek #2)(45)
Author: Brenda Novak

Taking a sip of water, she tried to change her focus to the Christmas music on the sound system, but Elvis’s “Blue Christmas” came on and that certainly didn’t improve her mood. She was feeling lonely enough already. So she played a video game on her phone. And when that couldn’t distract her, she got up and went to the restroom, where she stayed as long as she could, trying not to make it obvious that she’d abandoned her table just to escape being in the same room with Dylan.

When she returned, he glanced up at her. Their eyes locked, and she felt such a terrible hunger, she knew she couldn’t stay. Dropping a twenty on the table, she left the soup and coffee the waitress had delivered in her absence and walked out, not even bothering to wait for her change.

* * *

It was all Dylan could do to remain seated. He wanted to go after Cheyenne. He was back to feeling sorry for her, wondering if he’d hoped for too much, demanded too much. She was going through hell right now and couldn’t handle a relationship, especially one that had flared into existence so fast and so unexpectedly. He was the first man she’d ever slept with. She was probably overwhelmed on top of everything else.

He could have some empathy, couldn’t he?

He could, and he did. Those emotions held him hostage. But, empathy or no, he couldn’t chase her down. His brothers would ask too many questions, and he still wasn’t sure which way his relationship with her would go, whether or not he wanted them to discover how he felt.

He sat and he ate, even though he could hardly taste his food. Then, as soon as he got home, he climbed on his bike without telling anyone he was leaving and went to find her.

He knew she wasn’t at her place. He’d checked when they passed by a few minutes earlier. So he headed into town.

It didn’t take long to locate her car. Her Oldsmobile was parked at the bed-and-breakfast where she worked.

Leaving his bike parked near the cemetery railing instead of pulling into the lot, he strode to the front stoop and tried the door.

It was locked. But he could see a light burning inside.

“Chey?” he called as he pounded on the door.

There was no answer.

“I know you’re in there.”

When she didn’t come, he went around to the back. The light he’d spotted in front streamed from a room off the kitchen. “Cheyenne!”

Another light snapped on and she appeared, but she stood well away from the door, as if she couldn’t trust herself to go any closer.

“Are you going to let me in?” he asked.

She covered her eyes with her hands, then dropped them and stepped forward. He heard the bolt slide back before she poked her head out. “What do you want?”

He didn’t move toward her but he told her the truth. “I want you. I think you know that.”

He meant what he’d said on a deeper level than she’d probably taken it. But when tears filled her eyes, he told himself that if only she’d ask, he’d give her more time. She just had to show him…something that would let him believe she might someday look at him the way she looked at Joe. “What do you want, Chey?”

“I don’t know, but…whatever it is, I can’t keep seeing you.”

That wasn’t the answer he’d been hoping for. But it was the one he’d expected.

“I can’t handle the risks of being in a relationship right now,” she added.

He’d had the same thought—that this was bad timing for her—while he was at the restaurant. And yet, he could see how his friendship, attention, maybe even his love, could help her, now more than ever.

How could she miss that they were perfect together? He knew she felt something when she was with him.

She was fighting the attraction. But that was her choice.

“Right. Okay.” Stepping forward, he cupped her face in his hands. He meant only to give her a simple kiss, a tender moment to remember him by. A farewell of sorts. But the touch of their lips caused a sudden change in them both, and they immediately fused together. He doubted he could have made himself pull away even if he’d wanted to.

Fortunately, she didn’t seem any more willing to let go. She wrapped her arms around his neck and, when he lifted her off her feet, wrapped her legs around him, too. Then he carried her inside, and she barely managed to kick the door shut before unbuttoning his jeans.

He was inside her in seconds, without a condom, without anything. They had most of their clothes on. He felt a desperate urge to convince her, to get her to acknowledge that they had a chance at something special.

How could this not lead to more? She affected him like no other woman ever had, made him want to take care of her, protect her.

But he knew he wasn’t going to change her mind. She’d decided against him before he’d even touched her that first time. So he brought her to a quick and powerful climax, somehow gratified that he could do it almost effortlessly, and decided that would be his goodbye.

Fastening his jeans, he left without a word, and this time he told himself he’d never give her the chance to reject him again.

* * *

When Cheyenne saw Eve’s number on her caller ID on Saturday morning, she couldn’t believe it. Eve had said she wouldn’t be able to call until she returned to the States, but there were still four more days of the cruise.

Although relieved and excited—it’d been a rough week without her best friend to help steady her—Cheyenne was also a little worried. Had something gone wrong?

Forgetting about the reason she’d been up late, tossing and turning, she scrambled to hit the talk button. “Hello?”

“Chey?”

“Eve! Where are you?”

“Martinique.”

An island in the Caribbean, one of their stops. “So how are you getting phone service?”

Eve had to be using her cell, or her number wouldn’t have shown up on Cheyenne’s screen.

“I decided to get an international plan.”

“Why would you do that? You’ll be home in a few days.”

“Because I wanted to talk to you.”

Cheyenne sat up. “Is everything okay?”

There was a brief silence. “It is on this end.”

“Everything’s fine here, too,” she said. And what wasn’t okay could wait. She didn’t want to ruin Eve’s trip. “My mother’s still fighting.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“How?” Cheyenne asked in surprise.

“Gail called the ship from L.A. yesterday. Can you believe that? She can track anyone down.”