Have to work. Help yourself to anything you want.
D
His voice wasn’t among those she could hear in the kitchen. Had he already left the house? If so, she wished his brothers had gone with him. It sounded like they were getting ready, but she hated feeling like a prisoner in Dylan’s bedroom.
She dressed, then paced while she waited, careful not to make noise. When her phone went off, she would’ve pressed Ignore. She didn’t want to speak for fear of drawing attention, but caller ID indicated it was Dylan.
“Hello?” she whispered, huddling in the corner with her face turned away from the door.
“You awake?”
“I am now.” The pique in her voice revealed that she wasn’t particularly pleased to have slept so late, which elicted a laugh from Dylan.
“You were dead to the world. I hated to disturb you.”
“You should’ve told me you were leaving!”
“We’ve been up late the past two nights. I felt you could use the sleep.”
She lowered her voice even further. “Your brothers are still here.”
“Don’t worry, they’ll be joining me at the shop soon. Then you can duck out.”
“I’m sure they’ve already seen my car, but it would still be embarrassing to run into them as I tiptoe out of your bedroom.”
“Actually, they haven’t seen your car,” he said.
“Excuse me?”
“That’s why I’m calling. I wanted to tell you that I moved it behind the barn.”
“When?”
“After you fell asleep.”
It bothered him that she didn’t want anyone to know they were seeing each other. He took it as a slight—he’d made that clear when she’d been afraid Presley would see his bike—and she couldn’t blame him. Yet he’d taken her keys off his desk and gone out in the cold to remedy the problem in the middle of the night? “That was nice of you. Really nice. Thank you.”
“Keeping you in my bed was worth it. Have a good day,” he said, and disconnected.
Their time together had been incredible, even better than the hours at her place. She had to admit that much. Practice helped…
“You’re an interesting man, Dylan Amos,” she said as she wandered around his room, which was surprisingly clean and well-organized. There were a few articles of clothing he hadn’t hung up, but no dust, no dirt and everything smelled fresh.
She examined the bits of paper and receipts tacked to his corkboard. Names and numbers of both men and women. Flyers announcing MMA tournaments. A few pictures of him at the lake with his brothers or some buddies. Before and after photos of various cars he must’ve repaired. His GED.
When she saw that, she checked the date on the certificate and realized he’d gotten it only a year ago. She wondered why he’d bothered with it. He’d been running his own business since eighteen, and it seemed to make enough to support them all. They certainly had plenty of toys, from motorcycles to Jet Skis to four-wheel drives, and no one was rushing off to work someplace else.
“Come on, we’re late!” someone shouted. “Old Man Murphy wants his car today. We don’t get it done, Dylan’s gonna pound our asses.”
She smiled at that. Then she saw a framed picture on the opposite nightstand and walked over to have a look. An attractive woman of maybe twenty-five, with long dark hair, held a young Dylan on her lap.
Sobering, Cheyenne picked up the photograph and stared at the faces of mother and son. They looked so much alike. They had the same coloring, the same pouty mouth. She smiled again, thinking about how much she enjoyed kissing that mouth. What would he have been like had his mother lived? And what about his father? Did they have a relationship?
The front door slammed, jarring her out of her thoughts. At last, she was free.
Putting the picture down, she waited until she heard the motors of two different vehicles flare up and grow dim. Then she hurried out to find her own car behind the barn.
* * *
As soon as Cheyenne let herself into the house, Presley came out of her bedroom. “There you are,” she said, sounding put out.
Self-conscious and guilty, Cheyenne crossed to the kitchen. “Hi. Sorry about last night. I would’ve called but I zonked out.”
Her sister trailed after her, stopping at the table when she proceeded to the fridge. “Where? That’s the question.”
Cheyenne wasn’t sure whether or not she’d gone looking for her. She doubted Presley would have checked the Amoses’, even if she did. She’d probably gone in the other direction, past Sophia’s and maybe even the Harmons’. “Over at Eve’s place.”
“I thought Eve was on a cruise.”
She rummaged around as if hunting for something to eat, but she wasn’t particularly hungry, just trying to avoid facing her sister and meeting her gaze. The fact that she and Presley seemed to have switched roles didn’t escape her. “She is.”
“So what were you doing there?”
Cheyenne took out a boiled egg and cracked it, using a paper towel to catch the shell, since she didn’t want to risk clogging up the garbage disposal. “I stopped by to get a dress I lent her, turned on the TV for a few minutes and fell asleep.”
“Oh.” With a yawn, Presley collapsed into a seat. “You really had me going there for a while. I searched all over for you.”
Fortunately, she didn’t ask to see the dress, because it was already hanging in Cheyenne’s closet. “You didn’t bother Sophia, did you?” She added salt to her egg. “She had an early flight to Hawaii.”
“When I couldn’t find you, I called over there, but no one answered. So I drove by and, of course, your car wasn’t parked out front. It wasn’t at Riley’s, either.”
Cheyenne looked up. “You left Mom alone?”
“I had to. I was afraid something had happened to you.”
Breathing a sigh of relief that Presley hadn’t managed to find her, Cheyenne took a seat at the table. There was just one more thing that concerned her.... “You didn’t call the police or anything, did you?”
“No.” Presley frowned, watching her eat. “I don’t like involving the police in our business, so I thought I’d wait a little longer. I was actually wondering if maybe you ran away.” She laughed uncomfortably. “Lord knows I’ve been tempted on occasion.”
“I wouldn’t leave you, Pres.”