“In a minute you’re going to love me even more.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“You’ll see.” Pressing her up against the tile, he dropped to his knees and, if his mouth hadn’t been otherwise occupied, would’ve grinned from ear to ear when her hands anchored his head in place and she gasped his name.
* * *
Dylan was standing in front of her Christmas tree when Cheyenne, who’d finished getting ready, walked into the living room.
“You don’t have any presents under here,” he said.
“You don’t have any presents under your tree, either,” she told him. “You don’t even have any decorations.”
“We’re guys,” he said as if that explained it all. “I’m fairly sure this isn’t normal for three women, though.”
She thought of the gifts she had yet to wrap. The way Presley had put off shopping, she probably hadn’t bought any. Chances were, she didn’t have the money, but that wasn’t unusual. The more she got involved with drugs, the less she cared about anything else. “We’re not normal women. And this hasn’t been a normal year. Not that we’ve ever had much to give one another. Do you and your brothers exchange gifts?”
“We do. Now that we’re all adults, those gifts just aren’t things that can be wrapped. Even if they are, we pretty much leave them in a bag.”
She shook her head. “You need a woman over there.”
“That’s why I’m taking you home.” He swatted her behind. “For Christmas decorations and pies and present wrapping.”
“I thought it was for sex,” she teased.
“That, too.”
“After what you did in the shower I’ll gladly follow you anywhere.” She gave him a saucy smile. “Besides, you still owe me seventeen questions.”
He grinned, obviously proud of what he’d accomplished a few minutes earlier. But she couldn’t focus on how much she loved the contrast between his tough-guy image and the sensitive heart he guarded so well. She’d just caught sight of the rose and card she’d carried in from the porch earlier. “But first I have to call Joe.”
His jocularity faded. “Right this minute?”
“Yes… Before we go out in public. I wouldn’t want to run into him or…or make him feel as if I’ve made a fool of him.”
“He warned me to stay away from you last night.”
“He did?” She hadn’t thought he’d care enough, not after what she’d revealed to him.
“To be honest, I wanted to warn him off, too. Guys can be territorial.”
So could women. She was feeling rather territorial herself. Stepping up to him, she swept a kiss across his lips. “And, of course, you realized you were getting in his way and immediately backed off.”
With a chuckle at her sarcasm, he put his arms around her and rubbed his cheek against her neck. “I knew the two of you had it wrong.”
“Had what wrong?” she said when he let her go.
His gaze met and held hers. “I knew you belonged with me.”
It was hard to believe she’d once found Dylan less attractive than Joe. Now she felt exactly the opposite. “I just have to figure out a gentle way to break this to him.”
His smile shifted toward the devilish. “I’d be happy to take care of that for you.”
Cheyenne knew he was only joking, but she explained why she felt it was important not to create bad feelings despite that. “He’s someone I’ve always admired, someone who’s looked out for me in the past. He’s also the brother of one of my best friends. I have to be careful.”
He nodded. “Would you like some privacy?”
“Not for my sake, but…I’d want the conversation to be private if I were him, so I’d like to give him that.”
“I’ll go home and make sure someone put the dogs out in the yard. Call me when you’re done.”
She nodded but couldn’t let him leave without a final, lingering kiss.
* * *
Even with Dylan gone, it was hard for Cheyenne to call Joe. She almost dialed Gail’s cell first. She wanted to tell her friend why she was about to do what she was going to do. But she knew Gail would say the same thing as Eve. They’d both try to convince her not to make the “mistake” she was making. They’d say she couldn’t trust a guy like Dylan.
But they didn’t know Dylan. Surely, if they did, they’d see his better qualities—wouldn’t they?
Too tense to sit back, she perched on the edge of the couch and stared into the fireplace, remembering the night Joe had come over and built a fire. She’d been so infatuated with him. She’d thought it was love, but…she’d merely been in love with what he represented.
With a sigh, she scrolled through the call history on her phone. She’d received a slew of calls yesterday—people reacting to the news of her mother’s death. She’d been too busy searching for Presley to do more than quickly sift through the messages.
But being preoccupied with Presley’s situation wasn’t the only reason she’d avoided the people closest to her. She’d been afraid of what she might reveal if she talked to them. She hadn’t come to terms with the evidence that suggested Anita’d had help dying....
Presley had added one more skeleton to the family closet....
“Why?” she asked, appealing to the empty house. But why didn’t matter when dealing with her sister and mother. She had to face the reality and cope with it, because there was no changing them. She’d learned that long ago.
Presley could be anywhere. It was that thought and the need to get the police out searching that made her stop procrastinating and call.
Joe picked up immediately. “There you are. How are…things?”
“Okay. Thanks for the concern. And for the flower and card. That was thoughtful of you.”
“It was nothing. I’ve been worried.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I should’ve called sooner.”
“No problem. Did you find Presley?”
She propped his card up on the mantel. “Not yet.”
“I’m sure she’ll come back when she’s ready.”
“Maybe,” she said, but how could her sister come back after killing Anita?
“It’s a hell of a thing to deal with at Christmas. I can’t believe the timing of this. What can I do to help?”