“What are you talking about sweetheart?” her mother’s voice was filled with concern.
“I’ve been running,” her own voice was soft as she turned to the distraught woman. “I’ve been running for ten years now,” soft leathery hands held hers as she explained, “I’m done running,” she vowed.
“Running from what?” brown eyes still watched her wearily, “I don’t understand.”
“From my past,” the eyes watching her went wide. “But I’m done running.”
“Okay,” Bess didn’t know what else to say to the stark white face of her daughter.
“I think I’m going to go to bed now,” Chey stood, still a bit dazed from the realization of her brother’s message.
“Okay,” was once again the only indication she got that her mother had heard her.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” Chey smiled down at her mother before leaving the room.
Her mother woke up the next morning still not completely sure what had transpired the night before, but she poked her head into Chey’s old room to find it empty.
“Cheyanne,” her echo was the only answer she received, panic surged through her. “Cheyanne?” she called again, hoping that maybe her daughter had just not heard her. Still no answer, her eyes searched the room, settling on the open suitcases on the floor and she let out a breath of relief.
She had not left, she hadn’t run.
Cheyanne was not downstairs either, but she had left a not on the old door.
Went out, be back later. Love Chey.
Bess smiled, taking the slip of paper down and turning to the phone. Riley had left last night unexpectedly again and she wanted to know why, so she found herself on the phone with him extending an invitation to breakfast.
“You don’t have to do that,” his warm voice answered her.
“But I want to,” she argued. “No more excuses young man,” the mom voice coming out, “you get yourself over here so I can feed you before you go off to work this morning.”
Well he just did not have any room to argue with her now, “Yes ma’am,” she smiled at the mirth in his voice. “Be there in just a few.”
“I’ll have the eggs ready,” she replied before hanging up on him.
Bess had taken his decision to stay away from Cheyanne for a few days right out of his hands, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be upset about it. No matter how hard he tried to convince himself to stay away from her, he found himself longing to see her smiling face again or her sparkling blue eyes. Her womanly curves concealed beneath a pair of blue jeans that had him panting for air, aw hell. He shifted uncomfortably in the cab of his truck as he pulled into the drive way.
“You could still leave,” he lied. “Yea right,” he answered himself. There was no way in hell he was missing out on the change to see little miss Cheyanne in her disheveled sleepy state, once again he adjusted himself. That was one sight he’d been waiting to see for the last ten years and he’d yet been afforded the pleasure.
Like every other time he stood in front of the door he knocked twice before shouldering it open, reminding himself yet again that it needed to be planed.
“Miss Bess?” he called out into the empty space and held back his voice from calling out to Cheyanne as well.
“Kitchen,” her voice floated through to him and as he moved toward the sound he hoped Cheyanne would be in there, still in her pajamas preferably, helping her mother.
“Good morning lad,” he stopped short as he took in the sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly as Bess turned to him with a warm smile.
“Morning Sheriff,” Bess’ voice came out questioning and he quickly rearranged his features.
“Morning miss Bess,” he smiled brightly, swooping down to kiss her cheek. “Looking lovely as ever,” it was true, the color was back in her cheeks as she smiled up at him.
“Flatterer,” she swatted his shoulder.
“Yes ma’am,” he drawled.
“Go sit down,” she pushed him away, “I’ll have breakfast out in just a minute.”
“Yes ma’am,” he answered again, before removing his hat and slumping into the chair. He sat there for a few minutes, the only sounds in the house coming from the kitchen as Bess made their meal.
“Do I need to go get Cheyanne from her office?” he found himself asking before he could think better of it.
“No,” was the only answer he got and he let out a frustrated sigh.
“Is there a bucket of water I need to be pouring over her head?” he joked, but silently hoped he would get the pleasurable task of waking her.
“She’s gone,” his hand stilled over his head.
“What?” it was a rushed breath of a question as Riley felt his heart start racing. She was gone? How could she have just left? He was surging to his feet to demand details when Bess came into the dining room, plates balancing on her hands.
“She left me a note saying she had gone out,” he couldn’t help the sigh of relief that escaped him. “You okay Riley?” she questioned, knowing look in her eyes and a smile that told him she now knew his secret.
“Yes ma’am,” he lied, his heart was still racing at the thought of Cheyanne leaving once again. She’d just gotten here; she couldn’t leave, not yet. Things needed to be said before she could leave again, things had to be done. He had to sample her mouth before she was allowed to leave, if even then.
“It was very peculiar,” she nodded, setting the plates down, “scared me just a bit,” she smiled to comfort him. “But I’m sure she will be back soon,” and if by some divine chance Cheyanne’s voice floated through to them.
“Momma I’m home!” the slight tension that had built up in his body disappeared at the sound of her husky voice.
“Come here honey,” her mother called out to her and Riley prepared to see her again.
“Morning Riley,” she smiled brightly at him as she approached the table, his breath caught in his throat at being the receiver of her wondrous smile. “Moring momma,” she bent to kiss her mother’s cheek and he found himself wishing he’d gotten a kiss as well, but then quickly shook that off. Her smile had been enough, for now.
“And just where have you been this morning young lady?” her mother teased in a reproachful way.
“Well,” she pulled Riley’s plate to her, “I went early this morning to get some new sheets,” she plopped a bite of egg in her mouth. Her sensual mouth closing over the fork had him hot under the collar all over again wishing it was him her mouth was closing over, “and then I went down to Kent’s to pick out a new bed,” his blood froze.
“You went where?” the words came out in a near shout that had Bess gaping at him, but he didn’t care.
“To the store to get sheets,” she answered, looking at him bewildered, “and then to Kent’s.”
“You went in there alone?” his eyes narrowed at her and she had the audacity to glare back.
“Yes I went in there alone,” she spat. “I’m not an invalid that needs an escort everywhere I go.”
“You do when your destination is Kent’s,” he yelled back at her, trying to scare her in to admitting she was wrong.
“And why is that?” she challenged. “I’m a grown woman,” she stood, trying to intimidate him.
“You know why,” he countered, going to his full height, relishing in the fact that she had to now look up at him.
“I have no idea what you are talking about,” her eyes warned him; she wanted her mother to have no part in this.
“May I speak with you in the other room?” his tone did not leave much room for argument, but she did anyway.
“No,” she leveled him with her eyes, “I’m done discussing the matter,” she tried to turn away from him at that, but he grabbed her arm and drug her in the other room. “Get your hands off of me,” she demanded, but he refused and not just because her skin was so soft under his fingers he thought he might never be able to let go.
“Quit squirming,” he barked.
“Let me go,” her voice was icy.
“Not until we’ve finished our discussion,” he turned to her and almost died, she looked that furious.
“We have finished discussing it,” she tugged once again on her captured arm. “I don’t have to clear my every move with you,” he dropped her arm.
“We are not finished discussing it,” he glared down at her, his blood pumping loudly in his ears.
“Yes, we have,” her voice put an end to the matter, but he was not about to drop it.
“Cheyanne do not test me right now,” he warned.
“It is none of your business what I do in my spare time,” she countered, trying to breach the subject.
“Well I’m making it my business,” he invaded her space, hoping to have her finally back down.
“You don’t get a say,” she stepped forward, her chest brushing his. “It’s my life and I will do what I want.”
“Not when it puts you in danger,” he urged with his eyes for her to understand the torment he’d experienced when she mentioned Kent’s.
“I was not in danger,” was her flippant reply.
“Explain to me how being in the same room with the man who raped you is not dangerous,” his voice was low, but it had the same cutting effect, or so he thought.
“I was in a store in broad daylight,” she scoffed, prickling him ever more. “What was he going to do? Throw me down right there on one of the tester beds and have his wicked way with me?” the imaged of her with anyone else did not sit well in his stomach, his anger surged on.
“He could have,” was his idiotic reply.
“Ha,” she had the nerve to scoff again.
“Cheyanne,” he watched her shiver at his growl and just like that his argument faltered, his anger turned to something else entirely. “He could have taken you without anyone else knowing,” her blue eyes flared again and her beautiful mouth opened to tear him a new one, but he silenced her with his own.
She should have known it was coming, her body had been very aware that his narrowed eyes had turned their attention to her lips. Still Chey found herself stunned as his mouth came in contact with hers.
She jerked at the immediate contact, but at his soft urging her body molded into his, his hands circling her waist. Slowly the fire that had built in her belly fanned out as his mouthed moved leisurely over hers. That hard line that had been his lips only moments ago was more pleasing against her than she could have ever imagined as he tugged gently, trying to coax a response out of her, but all should could manage was to cling to him.
His artful tongue darted out, licking at the seam of her mouth until she dutiful opened it under his ministrations. She’d wondered for years what his mouth would taste like, but nothing could have prepared her for the explosion of flavor she received. He was sweet yet tangy, her tongue darted out, seeking the source of the sweetness she could not explain, she shuddered as he responded in kind, pulling her ever closer, and his hands roaming over her sides.
She sighed as he pulled back slightly.
“Still want to argue with me,” he said thickly, the flames in her system roared as his hooded eyes watched her.
“No,” she managed to strangle out before his mouth was on her again.
He was more demanding now, his hands burrowing themselves in her hair to angle her head so that he could plunder its sweet depth. Her own hands worked their way slowly up his chest, fingers brushing over his uniform until they were clasped around his neck, trying to get him closer. His tongue continued to twine with hers as her knees melted under her, unable to keep her up any longer under his hot mouth.
“Chey?” her teeth coming in contact with his lip as she jerked back.
Heat rose to her cheeks, but she couldn’t help but smile as Riley watched her, his eyes still clouded with passion. She took great pleasure in that look.
“Yes momma,” she was aware that her voice was breathy, but her mother seemed not to notice.
“If you and Riley are done arguing breakfast is getting cold,” he shook his head in a silent chuckle.
“I think we’re about done,” she answered, her own laughter bubbling up.
“Alright.”
Her own eyes roved over him, hands following the lines to straighten his shirt, but his own hands settled on her hips possessively.
“I told you,” he whispered before smiling smugly down at her.
“What?” she shook her head, brow furrowing in confusion.
“He could have easily taken you without alerting anyone else,” the flamed died immediately, replaced by a burning desire to slap him
He’d kissed her to prove a point.
“Well yes,” she said nonchalantly, “because his seduction would have been just as unpleasing,” she smiled sweetly up at him before trying to turn away.
“Do not compare me to that dog,” he demanded, his grip bruising.
“You are the one who compared yourself to him,” she wretched her arm away, managing to glare at him, “I am simply agreeing.”
She could feel his hot glare on her back, but she did not dare turn back to him. How could she after spouting such a terrible lie, likening his kiss to that of Michael Kent was practically a felony. He should arrest her, but that thought just brought more heat to her core, handcuffed and at his disposal. She shuddered before entering the dining room, smile plastered on her face for her mother’s sake.
Already dreading the moment Riley would walk back through the doorway, she picked up the fork and poked at her eggs. Only moments later the front door slammed, Bess’ head shooting up.
“What is wrong with him now?” she asked out loud and Chey suppressed the answer.