Chapter 10
Colt
I could hear the sound of Cheyenne’s footsteps dashing up the staircase and into the safety of the guest room. Not that I blamed her for wanting to run. A sudden rush—an impulse—had come over me. It had all started with the way Cheyenne had looked at me with that feminine approval.
It took all of my restraint to avoid rushing up there to convince her to come back down. This wasn’t who I was, but I was bursting at the seams for this woman. I wanted her—badly. I didn’t know how much more I could possibly take with all this alone time. Tiffany would be in the hospital for another couple of days, and then she would have to stay near the hospital to do physical therapy.
We were going to be alone for almost a week. An entire damned week of wondering what it would be like to see Cheyenne without any clothes on whenever I heard her turn on the shower. My entire body was going to be blue by the end of this week. I could already feel it.
Grabbing a glass of water, I swallowed the icy liquid, trying to calm the fire within. It took a few minutes before I regained control over my body again, enough control to feel confident enough to go up the stairs and knock on the door of the guest bedroom.
“Cheyenne?” I called out, listening to her footsteps halt. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“You didn’t make me uncomfortable, Colt. That’s the problem.”
“How is that a problem?”
Footsteps approached the door, but she didn’t open it. I leaned against the wood to hear her response.
“Because I told myself a long time ago that I couldn’t be with anyone,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I don’t even know you, but you’re so kind and compassionate to help me out like this. I don’t want to lose that from you, or Tiffany.”
“You wouldn’t lose either one of us,” I said, frowning. “I know we don’t know each other, but if you give me the chance—”
“I don’t have the time, Colt. The sanctuary was burned down. I have to rebuild, even though I don’t want to. I want to go back to Portland, to be honest with you.”
I could hear the tears in her voice now. An indescribable panic filled my chest when I thought of Cheyenne leaving Green Point.
“You can’t run away from everything that goes wrong in your life,” I said, resting a hand on the door. “You know, I did that too when things went to shit here at the ranch. I wanted to run away when my parents were gone, to go back to the city and get back to my old life.”
Cheyenne was quiet for a moment.
“Why didn’t you?” Her voice was quiet, her emotions just under the surface.
“Because I wasn’t achieving a damn thing by running,” I said, resolutely. “I knew that the more I ran from everything here, the worse it would be when I had to come back. You can rebuild the barn, Cheyenne. You can keep the sanctuary going. I’ll help you do that dinner thing you talked about downstairs if that will keep you here.”
I grimaced at the last part. Whatever it took to keep Cheyenne in Green Point, I would do it. Even if it involved me bringing a woman into my house for a pointless dinner.
The door opened. I caught myself on the door frame as Cheyenne swept a cautious gaze up and down my body.
“We can’t be involved romantically,” she said. “At least, for now. Not until I get the sanctuary back up and running.”
“Cowboy honor.” I mock saluted her which earned a smile in response. “I’m sorry for what happened downstairs. It’s hard when I want to be close to you.”
Her smile wavered a bit. “I know. It’s hard for me too, but it’s for the better that it stays this way. It would hurt me to lose you, or Tiffany if something happened between us that didn’t end well.”
“I don’t treat anyone badly afterward. Just so you know.”
“Bill Coates tells a different story,” Cheyenne said, arching a playful eyebrow at me. “I heard that you two are sworn enemies. Not that I blame you, given what happened to the both of us.”
“I never said that I was a good guy, but I’m decent.”
Cheyenne giggled as she pushed the door open fully. I caught sight of her duffle bag on the floor, her clothes half-packed on the floor next to it.
“You are a good guy,” she said. “Trust me. I have a good sense of good men versus bad ones.”
I leaned into the doorframe with my shoulder as she went to the bag. Relief went through me when she pulled out a stack of clothes. “I imagine a shitty experience taught you that in Portland. That’s what I’m guessing, at least.”
“You guessed right.” She set a stack of shirts on the bed, turning to look at me with a small smile. “Thank you for coming up here to apologize, and I’m really sorry for running out on you.”
“You get spooked easily. Duly noted.”
She chewed on her bottom lip, and it took all my self-control to not focus on what it would be like to nibble there. Clenching my hands into fists, I straightened up to nod at her stiffly.
“I better get some sleep. We’ll have to have that fire some other time.”
“I’ll hold you to it.”
I shut the door behind me as I retreated down the hallway to my bedroom. Collapsing on the bed, I stared up at the ceiling with a long sigh. I needed either a strong drink or another long hot shower while imagining my hand was Cheyenne’s. Sleep wouldn’t come easily, even if I downed a bottle of whiskey. Every inch of me was taut with desire. It only worsened because she hadn’t run because she felt uncomfortable. She had run because it was tempting for her too.
It was clear that even if Cheyenne shared the same physical yearning I felt, she’d fight it to the end. She’d be fighting until she felt comfortable enough to act on those feelings. The barn was symbolic in her head as a timeline on when she could act on those feelings.
One wrong step, and I’d ruin any sort of chance of winning over Cheyenne’s trust. I just didn’t know how much more I could possibly take trying to be at her side as a friend, rather than what I really wanted to be.