When Snow Falls (14 page)

He
could’ve called
her.

She tried to justify her behavior that way, but…considering
she’d
pushed
him
away, he really couldn’t be the one to call, and she knew it.

“Shit,” she breathed, and tapped herself on the forehead with her phone. What was going on with her? Had she ever been more lost or confused?

Not since before coming to Whiskey Creek…

She told herself not to call him back. But she knew she wouldn’t be able to relax until she’d made at least one more attempt to soothe any feelings she might’ve hurt—so she tried again.

“What?”
he said.

He’d answered at the last second, right before the call could transfer to voice mail. “I’m sorry, Dylan. I’m
really
sorry,” she said, and hung up so he couldn’t beat her to it. Maybe if she didn’t act as if she expected his forgiveness, or anything else, he wouldn’t think so badly of her and they’d both be able to move on.

After checking to make sure that Presley would stay with Anita for another hour, she left her car at the B and B and walked a block south to Just Like Mom’s for a bite to eat. She wasn’t hungry. The anger she’d heard in Dylan’s voice seemed to be ricocheting through her head. She felt sick inside. But she ordered a bowl of chicken noodle soup and some coffee. She didn’t care that it was too late for caffeine. She wouldn’t be able to sleep, anyway. Ironically, it’d been even harder to wind down on the nights she’d made herself stay away from Dylan than on the nights she’d seen him. It required that much effort to fight the impulse to return.

She’d become instantly addicted—that was the only way to describe it. She was acting like Presley, always searching for her next hit.

But when he’d handed her that key, as if he assumed what they were doing would continue, it had scared her to death. She couldn’t get involved with anyone like him on a regular basis. As soon as Anita died, Cheyenne was moving out of the river bottoms, away from the Amoses and the memories of her past. She’d rent a cute little house in town, maybe even one with a white picket fence, and forget it all—her dreams of the blonde woman, the nightmare of being raised by Anita and the fantasy of Dylan.

So fate seemed almost too cruel when Dylan and his brothers filed into the restaurant. Especially when he did a double take on seeing her by herself in the corner booth.

16

A
fter that initial moment of shock, Dylan ignored her. It made Cheyenne feel even worse, but she wasn’t sure how else she expected him to behave.
She
was the one who’d let him know that their relationship wasn’t something she wanted to take public. So he was treating her the way he’d treated her before—as if they were basically strangers.

That didn’t make it any easier to sit and wait for her food when he was right across the restaurant, however. She told herself not to look over, but every few seconds her eyes naturally gravitated toward him.

With that scar on his face, his crooked nose, which had probably been broken in a fight, and the wary air he carried like a battle shield, she knew most people would consider him the least attractive of the Amos boys. They were all tall, strong and dark-haired, with rugged features and expressive mouths, if not perfectly straight teeth. But they were also reckless, undisciplined and unpredictable. As far as she was concerned, that made them emotionally undependable, too.

Tonight Dylan had on a pair of holey jeans and a distressed leather jacket, which he took off because the restaurant was so warm. At that point, Cheyenne couldn’t help admiring the way his Amos Auto Body T-shirt stretched across his chest. It reminded her how well the rest of him was put together. Maybe other people wouldn’t find him as attractive as his brothers, but she found him more so. There was something about the way he smiled, the way there seemed to be all kinds of things going on in his head, far more than ever passed his lips....

It could even be his attitude that attracted her. He acted as if the whole world could go to hell, that he’d do exactly as he damn well pleased. Sometimes she felt like ignoring public opinion, too. But she’d always been too scared of ending up friendless—and possibly worse off than she was now.

The waitress brought her a basket of crackers and said she’d be right back with the soup. But Cheyenne was hardly listening. Just looking at Dylan made her throat go dry, because she knew what that mouth, those hands, felt like. And she wanted more.

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.”

“But…
why
would she? She couldn’t call when you got back?”

“No. She needed to reach me.”

“Because…”

“She had something to tell me about Joe.”

Cheyenne tightened her grip on the phone. “That’s good, then, right? He must’ve spoken to her about you.”

“He did, but it wasn’t what I was hoping he’d say.”

“What do you mean?” Cheyenne could hear the uncertainty in her own voice.

“Chey, stop pretending,” Eve said. “I know, okay? I know he wants to date you. And I know you turned him down because of me.”

Stunned at being so suddenly exposed, she tried to come up with something that would soften Joe’s rejection. “He just doesn’t realize how great you are.”

“But he realizes how great
you
are. And if you’re interested in him, too, I don’t want to stand in the way.”

How should she react? Should she continue to deny her feelings? Or finally tell the truth? She didn’t want to hurt Eve. “I’m sorry.”

“For…”

“For not telling you a long time ago.”

There was a slight pause. “So it’s true? You like him?”

She fell back on the pillows. “I wish I didn’t.”

“I can’t believe you sat there and encouraged me, even lent me your best dress to go out with him!”

“He’d never shown any interest in me. I figured you’d have a much better shot.”

“Why? That’s crazy! You obviously have no idea of your own appeal.”

“I don’t want to lose our friendship.”

“Silly, you won’t lose our friendship. You won’t lose anything. Go out with him. No need for us both to be deprived.” Eve attempted a laugh, but Cheyenne heard the strain in her voice and felt bad about it. She could tell this wasn’t easy.

“You’re being very generous, but I don’t think I could—”

“Go out with him, Chey!” Eve interrupted, her voice more strident. “Don’t miss this chance to see if someone as wonderful as Joe might be the right man for you.”

“That’d be too weird,” she argued. “You and I…we wouldn’t be able to talk about him. And I’d feel like a slimeball if we ever ran into you.”

“We’ll get over that stuff, work around it.”

“What if we don’t? What if it changes our relationship?”

“If you think Joe means more to me than you do, you have no idea how much I care about you.”

That statement brought tears to Cheyenne’s eyes. “That helps.”

“It’s true.”

Cheyenne swallowed around the lump in her throat. “I have something to tell you.”

“What’s that?”

As the memory of Dylan pressing her against the wall last night came back to her yet again, Cheyenne curled onto her side. “I’ve been seeing Dylan Amos.”

Eve’s response was fast, loud and immediate. “You can’t be serious!”

She covered her head. “I’m afraid so.”

“What do you mean, you’ve been
seeing
him?”

“In truth—” she lowered her voice on the off chance that Presley was awake “—I’ve been sleeping with him.”

This met with shocked silence. “I’ve only been gone a week,” Eve said when she finally responded. “When did that happen?”

“The first time?”

A gasp. “How many times have you been with him?”

Cheyenne pressed her palm to one eye. “Four nights out of six.”

“God, that scares me to death! Are you using protection?”

“Yes.” Except for once, but she didn’t add that. She’d already counted the days, knew it wasn’t a dangerous time of the month.

“I can’t
believe
it.”

Cheyenne had expected Eve to be shocked. She’d complained about her sister hanging out with the Amoses for too long to get any other reaction. But now that she knew Dylan better, she also felt somewhat defensive of him. “He’s not as bad as you think.”

“Cheyenne, he’s not what you’re looking for. Don’t you remember him getting into fights all the time at school? Being kicked out? Being hauled off to jail for disorderly conduct or setting off illegal fireworks or resisting arrest?”

“Of course, but…he was a lot younger then. I get the impression he’s settled down.”

“Funny, I don’t get the same impression. He looks like he’s part of a biker gang.”

Cheyenne liked the way he looked—tattoos, scar and all. She figured that was part of the reason she couldn’t seem to refuse him. “You don’t think he’s handsome?”

“I think he’s dangerous. How did you two hook up in the first place?”

Scooting lower in the bed, Cheyenne pulled a pillow to her chest. “I ran into him in the park last Sunday.”

There was some noise in the background. It sounded as if Baxter or Noah was asking Eve for details on their conversation. “Wait till I get off,” she said.

“Don’t tell anyone!” Cheyenne cried. “What happened with Dylan is between us.”

“Of course. I’ll make up something. But now I’m even more convinced you should go out with Joe. He’s the kind of guy you need, Chey, not—” she lowered her voice “—not Dylan. Dylan will chew you up and spit you out.”

Cheyenne couldn’t remember when she’d seen Dylan with a woman. But until last weekend, she hadn’t paid that much attention to him, other than to lump him in with Aaron, who was so bad for Presley. “Dylan actually seems sort of…sensitive,” she admitted.

“Come on, don’t get mixed up with him. You’ve never wanted your sister to go over there. There has to be a reason. Maybe Joe can help you get out of this.”

Eve did seem to be relieved by that idea. But…what if Dylan’s reputation wasn’t the sum total of who he was? What if he’d changed?

Thinking of the desire that had left her helpless when they’d had sex at the inn, Cheyenne massaged her forehead. “But it’ll feel disloyal being with Joe, knowing you like him, too. I can’t do it.”