Home > When Snow Falls (Whiskey Creek #2)(35)

When Snow Falls (Whiskey Creek #2)(35)
Author: Brenda Novak

So why had she given him her virginity? Why not Joe? Dylan couldn’t imagine any available male turning her away. She could easily have chosen another man. But she hadn’t, and he couldn’t regret taking what she’d offered him. There were moments he wanted to believe he wouldn’t waste any more time or energy on a woman who’d counted him out before really giving him a chance, but…he’d make love to her again if only she showed interest. He couldn’t lie to himself about that.

“Fine,” Aaron said.

Mack shrugged. “I’m glad. I’ve been at you for months.”

“Then that’s why,” Dylan grumbled. “For you.”

The volume on the TV went up, the dogs lay down and the MMA fight continued. But as the minutes slipped away with no one coming to the door, Dylan finally asked his brothers what he wanted to know. “Presley coming over later? Or does she have to work?”

“No clue,” Mack responded, eyes glued to the TV. He obviously didn’t care one way or another. Like Dylan, he’d never found Cheyenne’s sister appealing. It was Aaron who liked her. They’d been sleeping together for the past several weeks. Dylan thought they might be drifting toward a relationship. Aaron invited her over often enough, but it could be hard to tell what he was thinking. Aaron had been the most difficult of his brothers to raise. He was always getting into trouble.

“Aaron? You heard from her?” he asked.

Aaron glanced over. “Who?”

“Presley.”

“No. Why?”

“I thought she might be coming over.”

“Haven’t talked to her.”

The fight on TV ended with a knockout. That might’ve been exciting except it happened far too soon to satisfy the eager crowd who’d gathered in the living room.

“That sucks,” Mack complained.

Rod snapped off the TV. “I don’t care if Nero’s had a dozen knockouts. He’s a pu**y. I can’t believe he went down so easy. He had the guy in an arm bar, for hell’s sake, and allowed him to escape.”

“That fight was all hype,” Grady agreed.

Aaron unfolded his long body and rose to his feet. “Forget the fight. The night’s young. Let’s go over to Sexy Sadie’s and see what we can find.”

“You ‘find’ a fight, I’m not coming to save your asses,” Dylan said.

Mack turned toward him. “You staying here?”

Dylan nodded as he petted Kikosan, who’d stuck her snout into his lap. “You’re on your own tonight,” he said, but at twenty-one, Mack was the baby of the family, more like a son than a brother. If he got into trouble, Dylan would go through hell or high water to get him out and everyone knew it. As far as that went, he felt just as strongly about the others, even Aaron, who’d caused him so much grief. “Keep a level head.”

Grady nudged his foot. “Come with us, Dyl.”

“Naw, I’m beat,” he said, but as soon as they were gone, he found the energy to go outside and walk with the dogs to the edge of the clearing, where he could see Cheyenne’s house. He wanted to catch a glimpse of her driveway, see if her Oldsmobile was there, but it wasn’t.

13

It wasn’t quite eleven when Cheyenne started home. She’d spent the evening with Sophia, watching a movie, talking, eating—doing whatever she could to distract herself from thoughts of Joe or Dylan. She got the impression that Sophia was as lonely as she was. At least, she’d welcomed the company. Cheyenne wished she could rely on having Sophia for companionship over the rest of the holidays, but she and her daughter were flying to Hawaii in the morning to meet Skip, who was having his parents join them on Oahu.

“Must be nice.” She imagined warm, sunny beaches as she turned toward the river bottoms. But she wasn’t truly jealous. After several hours in Sophia’s presence she felt more like herself than she had in days, which was why she felt so surprised when she drove past her own driveway.

A half mile farther down the road was Dylan’s place, a brick house with a big yard, two dogs that must be in the house because they weren’t out and several old oak trees draped with the mistletoe that grew naturally in their branches. His lot sloped down to meet the river behind it and included several outbuildings—a shed, a chicken coop, a workshop and a barn. She’d never seen the barn for herself, but she’d heard Presley talk about the gym they’d set up in there.

Cheyenne knew she’d have to deal with Joe at some point. He was the brother of one of her best friends and circulated among the same people she did. It was rude—beyond rude—to ignore his calls. She’d already decided she’d speak to him in the morning, assure him she wasn’t upset and politely decline his offer to go out.

But Dylan was a different story. There were no expectations between them. She could return to her regular life and forget him. He’d given her that option when he left without finishing their conversation. She doubted he’d ever contact her again.

If only she didn’t feel so terrible about the way she’d brushed him off…

Frustrated by her vigilant conscience, which wouldn’t let her rest until she’d apologized, she parked on the road in front of his place.

The house was dark. At first she thought she’d come too late, everyone was asleep. Dylan’s Jeep sat in the garage with his motorcycle parked beside it. She could see both vehicles because the garage door was up. When they were home, they rarely bothered to close it, probably because they came and went so often. But then she noticed that Grady’s SUV was gone and guessed that some, if not all, of the Amoses were out.

What should she do? Forget about seeking any kind of resolution and go home?

No doubt, but she preferred to get this behind her. So she called Dylan’s cell to ask if he’d stop by on his way past her place, or maybe talk to her on the phone.

“Hello?” He sounded groggy when he answered, which told her he hadn’t gone out with his brothers. She’d awakened him.

“It’s me.”

He took a breath she could hear. “That’s the only reason I answered.”

“I thought you were mad at me.”

“That doesn’t mean I haven’t been hoping you’d call.”

His deep voice brought back every sensation she’d experienced when he was in her bed.

“I’m, um…” She fought the sexual awareness flowing through her, along with the intimate memories. She didn’t want to cause herself more problems. “I shouldn’t have called so late. Would you rather we talked tomorrow?”

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