Brendon (5 page)

“Not since Saturday night. Why? Everything okay?”

“Oh, yeah,” she answered, waving her hand, “Just curious.”

Everything was perfectly fine. Especially if Brendon had respected her request and hadn’t decided to talk to Travis about what she’d told him. As much as Cheyenne feared her lunatic stalker returning, she honestly believed she was safe in Coyote Ridge. And she’d seen firsthand just how overprotective the Walkers were. She figured if Travis got wind of the problem, he’d have someone camped out on her sofa, and that was the last thing she needed or wanted.

“I heard he stayed the night,” Kylie said, her words spoken with caution as she took another sip of her lemonade.

“He did. He was a true gentleman,” Cheyenne assured her. “He held my hair while I puked my guts up and then he tucked me back into bed. He left shortly after I woke up.”

Kylie nodded as though she understood what Cheyenne was telling her, but Cheyenne could see the questions in Kylie’s cornflower blue eyes.

“What’re you thinkin’?” Cheyenne asked, grinning.

“Nothin’.”

“Right. Well, I can promise that nothin’ happened. That man does his absolute best to stay far away from me.”

“Not because he wants to,” Kylie said with an answering smirk.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Girl, it’s apparent to everyone but him just how much he likes you.”

“You’ll have to amend that to include me. If that’s the case, it’s not easy to tell. When we’re in the same room together, it looks like he’s tryin’ to figure out an escape route. That or he’s glarin’ at me like he wants to kill me with his eyes.”

“Undress you, maybe. Kill you, no.”

Cheyenne laughed. “I sincerely doubt that.”

“I don’t,” Kylie told her honestly. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you when he thinks no one’s watchin’. I’ve never seen him look at another woman like that. I think he’s just confused about what that means for him.”

“I heard he’s doin’ better since the accident.”

Kylie nodded, taking another sip of her drink before placing both hands on the glass. “He’s been . . . different. For a long time now. Ever since my sister walked into their lives, disrupting the balance between him and Braydon, he’s seemed out of sorts.”

“I know that was hard on him.” Cheyenne had seen firsthand the devastation Brendon went through as he tried to deal with the fallout of that . . . she wasn’t sure
relationship
was the right word, but she didn’t know any other way to describe it. “But Braydon and Jessie seem happy.”

“I guess,” Kylie answered solemnly.

“Oh no. Don’t tell me there’s trouble in paradise.”

“Nothin’ more than usual. It means my sister’s a nutcase,” Kylie said on an exhale. “I think she’s worried about moving things forward with Braydon while Brendon is still so mixed up.”

“He seems happy for them now.” At least from what Cheyenne had seen.

“You know that until Jessie came along, neither of them had been in a separate relationship, right?”

Cheyenne cocked an eyebrow, curious as to where Kylie was going with this. She was well aware of Brendon’s past, the fact that he was only interested in women who would willingly be shared with his twin, but she still wanted to hear what Kylie had to say.

“Granted, I’m not sure what they’d done with women could be considered a relationship,” Kylie added.

“The sharing thing?” Cheyenne questioned. She’d known that the twins had shared their women and she’d found herself in Brendon’s crosshairs in the beginning. Although she’d been immensely attracted to him—and still was—Cheyenne had made it painfully clear that she had no intention of being shared between them. That wasn’t her thing.

Not that she really had a thing. Since she’d been with only two men in her entire life, both of which hadn’t been something she would’ve considered lasting relationships—although both had ended amicably—Cheyenne wasn’t even sure what her thing could possibly be. Meeting the Walkers, hearing the stories of their sexual encounters . . . It made her see an entirely different side to intimate relationships. Enough that she’d been curious, but not enough to be shared between two men.

“Yeah. That obviously came to a halt over a year ago. If Brendon’s been with a woman since Jessie, I don’t know about it.”

Cheyenne did, but she wasn’t going to tell Kylie that. One of Cheyenne’s heated arguments with Brendon had been about him and some chick he hooked up with. He had tried to assure her that he wasn’t pining after her. If he’d been with any women since the redhead he bragged to her about when he was drunk, she didn’t know. Thankfully, he hadn’t decided to throw any more in her face after that one conversation.

Not that she’d ever thought he was pining away for her, but that was the way things had always been between them. Very passionate. Very volatile.

Until Saturday.

Admittedly, she’d seen an entirely different side to Brendon and it didn’t help her confusion where he was concerned.

“But Saturday night went well between you, didn’t it?” Kylie asked, voicing the same thought Cheyenne had just had.

“Seemed to, yeah. Then again, we didn’t talk much. He stayed the night, but I was three sheets to the wind.”

“Between you and me, that was way out of character for Brendon.”

“How so?”

“You’re a woman, he’s a man. I didn’t even think he had a nurturing gene in his entire body. When it comes to women, Braydon has always been the one who takes care of them. Not to mention, Braydon always did his best to make them feel better when Brendon was ready to move on.”

“I believe it,” Cheyenne agreed.

“Well, I can tell you that things seem to be lookin’ up for Brendon these days. He’s not so . . . intense.”

Oh, Cheyenne wouldn’t agree with her there. Brendon was just as intense as always, just maybe not so confrontational. She happened to like this side of him, yet she had no idea what—if anything—to do about that.

“Well, I better get. Gage is at home with Kate and Travis is in meetings at AI. I promised Gage I wouldn’t be gone long.”

“How is she?” Cheyenne asked, referring to Kylie’s six-month-old daughter.

“Perfect.” Kylie’s proud grin lit up her entire face. “She’s so animated now. She gives her daddies a run for their money.”

“I bet she does. Wait till she’s walkin’. They won’t know what to do with themselves.”

“I don’t think they know what to do now.” Kylie laughed. “Anyway, Bill will be by in a bit to get those rooms taken care of. Or the floors anyway. We’ll be out of your hair before you know it.”

Cheyenne didn’t tell Kylie that she couldn’t wait for that day. She didn’t need to.

“Make sure you call if you need anything,” Kylie said, getting to her feet.

“Oh, I will.”

Kylie offered Cheyenne a hug and then disappeared as quickly as she’d appeared, leaving Cheyenne staring after her with a million questions now running through her head.

And not a single one of them pertained to the renovations taking place on her house.

chapter
FIVE

B
y the time Friday night came around, Brendon had given up on trying to talk to Travis. Seemed some higher power was working against him, snubbing every attempt he made. He’d even made an effort to stop by Alluring Indulgence Resort twice during the week only to find out that Travis was in a meeting. Both times.

Apparently his brothers were in the process of working out a summer schedule for their BDSM classes and Travis had been talking to Xander and Mercedes Boone, the power couple from Dallas who were investors in the resort, during their weeklong visit. Evidently it was a big deal to get this program nailed down soon, so Brendon hadn’t had a chance to meet up with his oldest brother.

Brendon was only partially tempted to stop by Travis’s house that night to talk to him but figured he’d get farther if he took on this issue with Cheyenne on his own. After all, she had requested that he not tell Travis, and despite his need to get someone’s expert advice, Brendon was a little relieved that he hadn’t revealed the secret as of yet.

The last thing he wanted to do was violate Cheyenne’s trust when it seemed as though they might be making progress.

Plus, by taking on the task himself, it gave him an excuse to see her.

He wasn’t sure how she’d feel about that last part, but he was going to find out in a few minutes. Pulling into her driveway, he noticed her truck—an impressive red four-door Chevy that rivaled his in size—was parked near the garage. Shutting off the headlights and the engine, Brendon climbed out.

“Slummin’ tonight?”

Brendon smiled in the twilight as he glanced up at the front porch to see Cheyenne sitting in a white wooden rocking chair, her bare feet up on the matching white railing.

“Somethin’ like that,” he responded, praying he’d injected the right amount of humor in his tone so that she knew he was joking. Based on his history with her, he had to wonder what was going to come out of his mouth and how it was going to sound when it did.

“Can I get you somethin’ to drink? I’ve got a few beers left or I made lemonade.”

Well, that was a good sign. At least she didn’t sound offended.

“Lemonade sounds great,” he told her.

“Sit.” Cheyenne nodded toward an empty rocking chair as she got to her feet. “I’ll be right back.”

Brendon sat, keeping his gaze from sliding to Cheyenne as she passed him on her way into the house.

A few minutes later she returned with two glasses. She handed one to him before resuming her position in the chair, her feet once more going up to the railing, small, pink-tipped toes curling around the edge. He did his best not to look at her smooth, tan legs but failed.

Christ.
The woman took his fucking breath away.

But he wasn’t going to think about that now. Nor was he going to think about the fact that they were alone together, her house was empty, and he really, really fucking wished they were in her bed.

Naked.

Instead, he sipped his lemonade and silently surveyed the area, admiring the quiet of the evening.

“I remember back when Sawyer was in high school, he TP’d this place.”

“Your brother TP’d the sheriff’s house?” Cheyenne laughed.

“Trust me, he’s done worse. We all have.” They were a mischievous bunch, always had been. He’d heard plenty of times growing up that the Walker brothers managed to keep the town on their toes. As far as they’d been concerned, that was a high honor.

“What’re you doin’ out here?” he asked, leaning back in the chair and trying to get comfortable.

It wasn’t the chair’s fault that his body was tense though. That would all be due to the woman sitting less than three feet away from him, looking as relaxed as he’d ever seen her. He could smell strawberries lingering on the breeze and knew if he sniffed her hair he’d find the source of the sweetness.

“They finished the floors earlier today and the odor’s pretty strong. I opened all the windows downstairs hopin’ it’d help. Figured I’d sit out here for a while instead of gettin’ high inside.”

“Wise choice,” he told her as he peered out at the road when an old, beat-up Ford passed by the house, driving suspiciously slow on the tree-lined street. “I’ve seen you under the influence.”

“After that last time, I don’t think I’ll ever drink again,” Cheyenne said, laughing. “Thanks, by the way. For, you know . . . takin’ care of me that night.”

“Not a problem.” He wasn’t about to tell her that he hadn’t minded it, but that was what he was thinking.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, the sounds of the evening settling around them. Crickets chirping, a few birds chattering in the large oak trees that stood guard in Cheyenne’s front yard, a dog barking in the distance. Pretty soon, the nights would be suffocating. Once the temperatures soared into the hundreds during the day, the evenings would be in the eighties and sitting on the porch to relax would be futile. But this was nice.

“I take it the house is comin’ along,” Brendon stated, still not looking at Cheyenne.

“Yep,” she answered readily.

When he heard amusement in her tone, he had no choice but to glance over. He noticed she was looking at him, smiling into the dark.

“What?” he questioned.

“Nothin’. Can’t a girl smile? You know, just because.”

“No,” he answered testily, hating that he got so defensive around her but unable to help himself.

“Brendon, why’re you here?” Cheyenne’s tone turned serious.

“Wanted to check on you.” Directing his attention back to the yard, he hated admitting as much, but he didn’t know what else to say.

“On me? Why? Don’t you have somethin’ better to do on a Friday night?”

“Not really, no.” He didn’t bother answering her first question of why. Hell, he didn’t even know what that answer was. He was there because he wanted to be. It was as simple and as complex as that.

“Kylie came by Monday,” Cheyenne said after a few minutes of silence.

“To check on the house?”

“Yeah. That’s all she talked about.”

Brendon turned his head, once more looking her way. “Huh?”

“You didn’t tell Travis about my stalker.”

Brendon shook his head. “Not yet.”

“Yet?”
Cheyenne’s tone remained relatively calm, although he sensed her anger. She didn’t want him telling Travis, but Brendon couldn’t keep that information to himself. He wanted someone watching over her. Hell, he wanted to do it himself, but he knew how well that would go over.

Brendon sighed, feeling her eyes boring into him. “Chey, this is serious.”

“I know how serious it is,” she said defensively, her feet falling to the wood porch floor as she sat upright.

He turned his head to look at her, but didn’t move from his relaxed state. She was sitting on the edge of her seat, her hands wrapped tightly around her glass. Brendon thought she was going to say something else, but then she surprised him when she got to her feet and stomped inside.

For whatever reason, he couldn’t help but smile.

But damn she was cute when she got pissed off.

Too cute.

CHEYENNE KNEW SHE
had no right to get pissed off at Brendon. Especially not for caring about what happened to her. He was sweet, if not a little overbearing.

Still . . . Her irrational reaction couldn’t be helped. After all the shit they’d been through together, the fighting, the arguing, the jealousy . . .

And to think, they’d done nothing more than share a single kiss so very long ago.

He wasn’t supposed to care about her. And maybe he didn’t, but Cheyenne got the distinct impression that he did. Which wasn’t helping her case, since she felt the same about him. Between wanting to slap him and hoping to kiss him again, she could hardly get her thoughts together.

Storming through her house, she stopped in front of the kitchen sink. Depositing her glass on the counter, she stared out into the night through the open window. The backyard was pitch-black, not a single light shining, and a chill slid over her skin. She needed to put some floodlights on the house, something to warn her if someone was outside when they shouldn’t be.

“Chey?”

Her fingers gripped the edge of the counter tightly when Brendon said her name.

“What?” she asked through gritted teeth.

“I know you’re pissed, but you can’t expect me to just let this go. If there’s some crazy bastard out there who’s hell-bent on hurtin’ you, I’m not gonna sit back and simply hope it doesn’t happen.”

Spinning around to face him, she realized he was standing close.

Very, very close.

The difference in their heights was drastic. The top of her head didn’t even reach his shoulder. Hell, she could probably easily fit beneath his armpit, not that she wanted to.

Tilting her head back, she let her eyes peruse his face—his hard, strong jaw, his slightly crooked nose, and the long, black lashes that fringed his beautiful, sexy eyes. When she finally peered into those blue-gray orbs, she saw sheer determination glittering there.

“I don’t want Travis to know,” she insisted, some of her anger defusing. “He’s got a family to take care of.”

“He would want to know,” Brendon refuted.

“Maybe. But that doesn’t make it right. I would never forgive myself if this asshole did somethin’ to them.”

“So that’s what you’re doin’? Protectin’ Travis? Who’s gonna protect you, Cheyenne?”

Cheyenne didn’t answer. Hell, he’d hit her with three questions and she didn’t know how to respond.

Brendon’s eyes narrowed as he stared down at her. “Has this guy hurt you?”

“No,” she answered quickly. “I swear. I’ve never even met him.”

“Do you know who he is?”

Cheyenne tore her eyes away from Brendon’s as she shook her head. “No. The cops don’t have any leads.”

“Is someone pressin’ them to find out? Your agent, maybe? Manager? I don’t know how it all works.”

“My tour manager had people payin’ attention. He put security on me durin’ the shows. My manager, Preston, gave the info to the cops. But no, as of right now, no one’s actively looking into it. At least not that I know of.”

“We need to find out who he is,” Brendon stated adamantly.

“We?” Cheyenne couldn’t believe her ears. Here was a man who couldn’t stand the sight of her and he was telling her that he wanted to help her?

“Yes.
We.
As in me and you. That’s your only other choice here, Chey. We figure this out, or I go to Travis.”

“Sorry, but last time I checked, I was just a singer. I don’t have any skills in findin’ people.”

Brendon chuckled, and Cheyenne forced her gaze back to his face, noticing instantly that the hard line of his jaw was softening somewhat.

“Maybe you don’t, but I know someone who does,” he told her when she looked into his eyes.

“Who? And please don’t say Gage. I told you, I’m not bringin’ them into this.”

“No, not Gage. Just a guy I went to high school with. He works for a security firm up in Dallas. It’s their specialty.”

“What security firm?” she inquired.

“Sniper One.”

Cheyenne’s eyes widened. Everyone knew Sniper 1 Security. Well, everyone in her business anyway. They were a team of hard-core enforcers who did everything from tracking missing people, freeing them if necessary—both civilian and military—to guarding some of the wealthiest people in the world. And plenty in between. Some of Cheyenne’s peers had used the agency a time or two in instances like this.

“And you think your buddy’s willin’ to help me?” Cheyenne questioned disbelievingly.

“Yeah. I do.”

Cheyenne wasn’t sure what to say to that. If Brendon wanted to help locate the stupid man who had destroyed her apartment and ultimately terrorized her for the past year, how was she supposed to say no?

“Okay,” she muttered.

“Okay?” Brendon tilted her chin up with the side of his finger, forcing her to meet his gaze again.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” she bit out.

“Sorry, I’ve never known you to be that easy.”

She wasn’t easy, but then again, Brendon would know that firsthand, wouldn’t he? “Yes. I’m okay with it, especially if it’ll keep everyone safe. I’ll pay whatever they want.”

“I’ll give him a call then.”

Cheyenne nodded in agreement. She wasn’t sure what Brendon wanted her to say at this point. He had appointed himself as her protector, and as confused as she was, she certainly couldn’t deny the strange feeling that had taken up residence in her chest. She couldn’t count the number of times she’d been tempted to ask Travis for help over the course of the last year. Especially when she’d found her apartment trashed, all of her things destroyed. But she’d managed to refrain because she didn’t want to bring him and his family into it. He’d done enough for her already.

But Travis was the only person she’d ever been able to lean on. The only one she really trusted.

“Do your parents know about this?” Brendon questioned.

Ah, hell. Why did he have to go and ask about her parents?

Cheyenne moved out of his reach, refusing to touch the small area of skin that still tingled from his touch.

“My . . . uh . . . parents . . .”
Shit.
She didn’t even know how to explain the situation with her parents. She was hiding as much from them as she was from the stalker. They may not want to hurt her, but they unquestionably wanted something from her. Everything, actually. They wanted every damn thing they could get their greedy little hands on.