“Just because you hear it doesn’t make it true,” he broke in. “The people who spend so much time talking about me don’t even know me. And I won’t live my life trying to please them. Whiskey Creek’s fine, upstanding citizens would never accept me even if I did.”
“You’re the one who made the offer in the park!” she snapped, finally rallying. “It wasn’t as if I propositioned you.”
“Thanks for the reminder. It’s always good to know I can blame myself when I do something stupid.”
She felt like he’d just slapped her. “Why do you have to blame anyone? We had fun, didn’t we? Can’t we leave it at that? I mean, we barely know each other—”
“We’ve known each other for seventeen years, Cheyenne.”
“We’ve never hung out together! So this can’t really matter that much!”
Suddenly, he was the implacable, indifferent man she’d seen around town wearing a sardonic half grin as his gaze trailed after her. “It doesn’t. It doesn’t matter at all. Call up Joe tomorrow and see if he can satisfy you any better. Maybe you’ll decide this actually sucked.”
“I already said it was good. I—”
“Who’s there?” Her mother, voice ragged with weakness and pain, interrupted. “Presley? Cheyenne? Where are you? I’ve yanked out…my damn catheter.”
Dylan waved her out of the room. “Go take care of her.”
Cheyenne felt she had no choice but to do exactly that. She couldn’t leave Anita lying in a bed soaked with urine. “Wait here…so we can talk, okay? Let’s not end the night like this.”
“If you wanted to end it better, maybe you should’ve held out for someone who was on your list of possibilities.”
She swallowed hard. “I—I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything.”
“Don’t go away mad.” This wasn’t the memory she wanted to carry with her from her first time. Everything had gone so well, until now. Somehow, she’d miscalculated, had no idea she’d been on his list of possibilities.
“Just…hold on, okay?” She could convince him to be her friend, if only he’d give her the opportunity, she thought as she hurried to fix Anita’s problem. But she heard his motorcycle roar to life while she was still in her mother’s room and knew, as the sound dimmed, that he hadn’t bothered to wait.
* * *
“You’re quiet today.” Riley bent to get a better look at her face. “You okay?”
Cheyenne glanced up from the computer in her small office off the inn’s kitchen. “I’m fine, why?”
She’d come to research some recipes and create a whole new menu for when they opened in January. The printer would take a week, maybe longer over the holidays, so she wanted to get the process started. But in the four hours she’d been at the B and B, she’d accomplished nothing. While Riley and his son made a racket enlarging the bathroom on the second floor, she’d been replaying every second of her time with Dylan.
Even now, hours after the big event, she couldn’t help blushing at the memory of the words he’d whispered, telling her how beautiful she was, how good she felt, how much he wanted her. Then there was the memory of his strong hands on her thighs as he guided her movements the second time they’d made love. That was when she’d really relaxed and begun to enjoy herself.
She wasn’t sure whether to be embarrassed or relieved that she’d finally dispensed with her virginity, mortified or grateful that she’d chosen Dylan to be the one. Allowing him to remove her clothes, and removing his, was completely out of character for her. She felt she should regret it. And yet…regret played no part in her reactions. At least not yet.
Why? He wasn’t the man of her dreams, but once she’d led him into her bedroom, she never considered backing out. She couldn’t have, even if she’d tried. She’d been too caught up in what he was doing to her—and what she wanted to do to him.
Was it normal to desire a stranger like that? Someone she wouldn’t ordinarily date?
She’d never found Dylan particularly handsome. She went for the uncomplicated type, the all-American athlete, like Joe. But she had to admit that Dylan was…raw and edgy and quite magnetic.
Riley clicked his tongue. “There you go again.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re staring off into space.”
She forced a laugh. “I’m sorry. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
“I don’t want you to be sorry. I want you to be okay. I promised Eve I’d look after you.”
Chey folded her arms. It was a protective gesture designed to create a buffer between her and someone who knew her well enough to be able to tell when she was lying. “And you’re doing your job.”
He wiped the demolition dust from his arms as he responded. “No, something’s wrong. I can tell. We’ve been friends almost since you moved to town, remember?”
She glanced at his son, Jacob, who’d come up behind him and seemed to be awaiting her answer as if he was one of her close friends, too. Even if she’d been tempted to tell Riley about Dylan, to see if he thought she’d screwed up as badly as she told herself she had, she couldn’t say in front of a young teen that she’d had sex with Dylan Amos. Since Riley had asked her what was wrong in his son’s presence, he obviously had no clue how private the real problem was. But then, he knew she wasn’t seeing anyone, so he had no reason to suspect it might deal with her sex life.
“I didn’t get much sleep,” she mumbled.
He frowned in sympathy. “Your mother’s getting worse, isn’t she?”
With a sigh, Cheyenne rubbed her eyes. Anyone would think she’d be completely preoccupied with her mother’s situation. Instead, she’d chosen last night to invite a man she barely knew into her bed. “That’s part of it.” Only one part, and not the biggest…
“You don’t have to stay here today. I’ve got the architectural drawings. We know what we’re doing. If we run into a problem, I can call you.”
“I realize that. But…I have things to do.” She looked around the six-by-eight office, with its wainscoting and custom cabinetry. This place was her refuge; she didn’t want to be at home.
“Dad, can I have a soda?” Jacob asked.