Don't Tell Me You Love Me (Destiny Bay Romances~The Ranchers Book 6) (2 page)

He shrugged and his wide mouth twisted. “Hey, what’s wrong with a little lust for old time’s sake?” His gaze swept over her, from her thick, tousled hair to her pointed, tooled boots. “I’m sure Frank won’t mind. He knows how close you and I have been in the past.”

She stopped the retort that rose in her throat. Bickering wouldn’t get them anywhere. Sighing, she opted for the truth. “That’s just it, Johnny. All that is in the past. It’s gone forever.”

“Forever?”
 

He stepped closer now and reached for her, taking up a handful of her thick chocolate hair and crushing it between his fingers. His silver gaze caught hers and held.
 

A lump rose in her throat. For a moment, she couldn’t get speech around it. There had been something in his voice when he’d said the word, forever--something that vibrated and touched something deep within her. She couldn’t let him affect her. His emotional state was none of her business. She took a deep, deep breath and finally managed to grate out a warning.

“Stay away from me,” she said, pulling back and pushing his hand away.
 

His lean, handsome face took on a slow, lopsided grin. “That wasn’t what you were saying a few minutes ago.”

She met his gaze and stared at him. How could he be so much the same—and yet so different? “You’re despicable,” she said, though she said it lightly, almost as an afterthought.

“I do my best.” Immediately, he made an impatient movement, as though he regretted the words, wanted to take them back, and when he spoke again, his voice was calm, normal, almost friendly.
 

“Look, Cheyenne, I didn’t come to fight with you. I want us to be able to deal with each other like normal adults.” He shrugged. “About the kiss…I guess I shouldn’t have done that.” He made a gesture with his open hand. “It just came naturally. Chasing you across the chaparral like that made me think about the old days.” He smiled and his eyes softened. “Remember that time we raced to the beach through Los Olivos Canyon?”

She shook her head, not because she didn’t remember, but because she couldn’t let herself think about things like that. “That was then,” she said softly. “This is now.”

He nodded, as though accepting her way of viewing things. “We used to love each other,” he said, like a man singing half forgotten words to an old, beloved song.
 

She had to fight the instinct that swept over her—the urge to go to him, to take him in her arms. It would have been so natural. She’d done it so often in the past. “That was before you betrayed me and my family,” she reminded him, reminding herself at the same time. “You’re the one who killed that love.”

An expression of pain flashed across his handsome face. He hesitated, then began, “I know you think I caused your father’s heart attack, Cheyenne….”

She was shaking her head so hard her hair was sweeping the air around her shoulders. “It wasn’t only that. What you did to my father was only the last straw, Johnny. There was so much more. You know there was.”

He stood silently and she turned, calling to her horse. Flamethrower lifted his head and looked at her. She wanted nothing so much as to swing up on his back and ride away and never look back. But she couldn’t leave yet. She turned back to face him.
 

“Okay, Johnny. I know you never do anything just for the hell of it. Why did you really come? What do you want?”
 

He stood in the moonlight, his weight balanced, his arms at his side. “You do know me too well, Cheyenne,” he told her softly. “So I’ll level with you. I came for my son.”

Her heart stopped in her throat and she felt the world begin to spin wildly around them. This was something she had never anticipated. “You….what?”

“Zachary. Isn’t that his name? My son. I’m his father. You’re marrying Frank. I won’t have Frank act like a dad to him. I want him with me.”

Shock quivered through her. “Oh Johnny, no.” She shook her head, one hand to her throat. She couldn’t believe he could mean it. She’d never dreamed he might want Zachary. It didn’t seem possible. “You can’t do this.”

“Oh yeah?” He smiled that old Johnny smile, the one that had once made her love him so hard she couldn’t breathe when she thought about it. “You just watch me.”
 

She stared at him. This would have been her worst nightmare if she’d ever imagined it as a possibility. But she hadn’t. Johnny had never shown any interest in seeing Zachary, much less in being a real father to him. He’d been gone so long. Why now?

“I’ll fight you,” she warned, her mouth dry as cotton.
 

“Good,” he replied. “That ought to be interesting.”

She stared at him, hardly believing she could ever have loved him. Then she turned blindly, reaching for her horse. She had to get away from him, get to someplace where she could think. Swinging up on Flamethrower’s back, she made a clicking sound that he knew well, and soon she had him trotting toward home. She didn’t look back.
 

Johnny watched her go, swearing softly to himself. He’d made a mess out of it. He hadn’t meant to threaten her that way. He hadn’t even meant it when he’d said he wanted to take their son. Something in him had wanted to hurt her, and he’d instinctively found the thing that would wound her. He’d forgotten that hurting her would only hurt him, too.
 

Lifting his head, he cast a string of obscenities into the cool air and kicked the dirt with his boot. He’d handled this all wrong. After all those days and nights dreaming about what he would do, what he would say, when he finally had Cheyenne in his sites again—he’d messed up. What was he doing here, anyway? Maybe he shouldn’t have come.
 

But he knew that was a useless thought. He’d been driven to come back. He couldn’t have resisted if he’d tried. Cheyenne was always going to be a part of his life, one way or another. Two years overseas had taught him that. She was in his blood, in his soul, and there was no way he was ever going to eliminate her. The question was, would
she
find a way to eliminate
him
? He knew damn well she would try.

Chapter Two

Johnny Cameron could hear the music from where he leaned against the car, but he didn’t want to go in. Colored lights were strung along the driveway up to the entryway. Cars were arriving. People were piling out, laughing, heading in to the party. He knew he would have to join them eventually. But still he waited, watching the house, remembering.
 

Cheyenne would be inside, greeting every friend. Frank would be at her side, beaming. He had what he’d always wanted. Lucky bastard.
 

He felt sick when the picture of the two of them together flashed through his head. He had to close his eyes until the nausea passed. There had been a time when they had been so much in love, he’d never thought another man would ever touch her. He still couldn’t stand the thought of it.
 

It seemed like he’d grown up watching Cheyenne Carrington. He remembered when she was a little girl in short skirts and yellow leggings and huge brown eyes that seemed to see into his soul. He’d come to their ranch with his daddy when he had carpentry work to do for the Carringtons. He’d held out nails for his father while his gaze followed Cheyenne around the yard. Looking back now, he could swear she’d played to his attention, posing and making little girl pirouettes to show off. But at the time, he hadn’t analyzed what she was doing. He’d just watched, mesmerized. He’d never seen another girl like her. She was his secret princess.
 

He remembered when she was in high school, almost fifteen, and coming into her womanhood. That was when he’d first begun to realize that those feelings he had for her were laced with something more than friendship. He ached whenever he saw her. He tried to cover it up with a sneer, and a careless attitude. He teased her, made fun of her, then turned away as though he just didn’t give a damn. But all the time, his heart had been thumping. He lived for a smile from her, though he would have died before he let her know it. He’d never thought he’d have a chance with her. She was out of reach. She was everyone’s princess by then.
 

That all changed at the Spring Dance. He was doing his usual thing, hanging out with the bad boys at the fringes of the dance, cracking jokes and looking for trouble. Meanwhile, he’d been watching Cheyenne out of the corner of his eye, dying every time another boy danced with her, but not yet brave enough to ask her himself, when the call came for Lady’s Choice. That was the first time he’d felt the special thing they had between them, the words that whispered in his ear, telling him what she was thinking. He’d turned to look at her, disbelief at what he was hearing in his heart. But it seemed to be true. She was walking straight for him---like a queen, her head so high, like a warrior. She never looked to right or left. The other boys, more eligible boys, boys who ran for class office and won athletic awards and academic prizes all fell away as she marched purposefully toward him. A hush fell over the whole room as she stopped before him and held out her hand. His heart was hammering so hard, he thought he was going to pass out. But he took her hand, and went with her to the dance floor. He looked down into her soft brown eyes and took her into his arms, and he never let her go again.
 

From that day on, they were together. Always. Until the end.
 

“Johnny Cameron. As I live and breathe.”

The voice jolted him out of his reverie. He turned and looked at the woman walking toward him. Her black hair was cut elfin style, short and close to her head, making her huge gray eyes look incredibly wicked and knowing. She was wrapped in a tropical sarong sort of thing, and gold bangles clanged from her wrists half way up to her elbows. Despite all that, she looked like home to him.
 

“Lysette Carrington. As beautiful as ever.”

“So it is you. I heard you were back in town.” She came right up and reached for him. He hugged her and accepted a kiss that landed on his cheek, but might have made his mouth if he’d let it. ”It’s been almost two years, hasn’t it?” she said as she settled back down beside him.
 

He nodded. “Two long years,” he said softly, almost to himself.
 

She made a face and dug into the little jeweled bag she wore at her wrist. “Here, light my cigarette,” she ordered, handing him a gold lighter.
 

He did as she asked, but added a comment. “You know you shouldn’t smoke.”

She inhaled and let the smoke back out before she answered. “Haven’t you ever noticed? I do a lot of things I shouldn’t do.” She smiled at him wickedly as she accepted the lighter back and popped it into her little purse. “Life is more fun that way.”

“Same old Lysette,” he murmured, his eyes shining with amusement. It was good to see her. “How are you?”

“Lonesome.”

He crooked an eyebrow. “Now why would a beautiful woman like you be lonesome?”

“Because you’ve been gone so long.” She said it in an unabashedly flirtatious tone, looking up at him from under lowered lashes that swept her cheeks like silky dark wings.
 

He laughed softly. “You always could make a man feel like he mattered,” he admitted. “But you can’t convince me you thought about me more than once in the past six months.”

“Johnny, Johnny, don’t be so cynical. You know I’ve always had a yen for you.”

“Darling, you’ve always had a yen for whatever man takes your fancy of the moment. I hardly feel like I’m all alone.”

She shrugged her lovely naked shoulders. “You were always Cheyenne’s before. Now she’s getting married.” A worried look passed like a cloud over her pretty face. ”You do know about that, don’t you?”

He nodded, his face impassive.
 

She cocked her head to the side, studying him. “And that’s why you’ve come back, right?”

He turned to look into her face. “And what makes you so sure of that?”

“Look at the timing.” She sighed, noting the rebellious look around his sensual mouth. “Oh well, it doesn’t matter. I don’t mind being second best. As long as I’m in the ‘best’ category.”

He had to laugh again. Lysette was a troublemaker in a lot of ways, but she always had brightened the space she occupied. “You’re not in any category at all.”
 

“I’ll have to work on that, then, won’t I?”
 

“Lysette, you’re in a place all your own and you know it.”

She looked pleased and started to move closer, but he cut her off with a quick question. “Are you on your way into the party?” he asked, looking toward the gaily lighted house.
 

She hesitated, then nodded.

He straightened and looked down at her. If he was going to do this thing, he might as well get it over with. “Need an escort?”

“Why not? I’ve already dumped the jerk I came with.”

He turned toward the house, steeling himself. “That wasn’t a very nice thing to do,” he murmured, his attention already on what was to come.

“I’m not a very nice girl. Never have been, never plan to be.” She linked her arm through his and leaned close as they walked toward the entryway together. “You keep that in mind when nights get cold and lonely, Johnny Cameron. For a good time, you just call me.”

He covered her hand with his own. “Don’t sell yourself short, Lysette,” he said quietly. He would have said more, but the front door of the house opened at that moment and a wave of talk and laughter rolled out. He knew it was only moments before he would see Cheyenne again. Everything else fell away. She was all he could think about. With a mixture of anticipation and dread, he mounted the stairs.

Cheyenne was laughing. She’d been laughing for what seemed like hours. Her face hurt, she’d been laughing so relentlessly.
 

“Maybe,” she thought as she turned to greet some old friends, her smile wide and open as ever—“Maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much if only there really was something funny to laugh at.”

Frank was at her side, helping her to greet their many friends as each came over to wish the happy couple well. His steel gray hair was short and neat, his suit impeccably tailored. There was a square quality to his physical appearance, all straight lines and honest right angles. He was smiling benignly as he listened to a friend talk about the vacation to Lake Tahoe he’d just returned from. A picture of the perfect husband. He was a tower of strength. Most people looked to him for counsel, or to help them think things through rationally. He was a calming influence on everyone. A real brick of a man.