Chapter 9
Cheyenne
“Come on, just a little more, please?”
I looked away, cupping a hand over my mouth to smother my laughter at the irritated glare that Colt sent Tiffany.
“You can’t have anymore,” he said, impatiently. “If you have more, you’ll never wake up again.”
Tiffany shot him a dirty look as she flourished a hand at her leg. Braces and splints held it still and together until surgery tomorrow morning. It was hard to look at it without grimacing.
“You’re shitting me, right? Try having your leg broken and living with it.”
Colt didn’t bat an eyelash as he scrolled through his phone. “I won’t have that problem because I don’t get the brilliant idea to climb bookshelves that aren’t attached to the wall.”
“Are you mocking me?”
“No,” Colt replied, speaking steadily without sparing her a glance. “I just know you’ve already had enough morphine to knock out five horses.”
“Who told you that?” Tiffany asked, glowering up at him. “Why are you even here? The ranch needs you. We can’t both be gone. You need to balance the books and all that.”
Colt looked up from his phone, exasperated. “I know that. We’re just here to check up on you before we head back to Green Point.”
Tiffany flopped back against her pillow with an aggravated huff.
“You know what your problem is? You need to get laid,” she mumbled, eyes rolling back when the machine next to her pumped another dose in. “I know that Cheyenne will gladly help in that department. Cheyenne!”
My cheeks were burning as Colt looked down at Tiffany with a mixture of embarrassment and amusement.
She reached out a hand to me, as she looked up at me pleadingly. “Please, please help him. He won’t be such an ass afterward, I’m sure of it. Do it for all of us.”
I couldn’t bring myself to look at Colt as he sighed loudly. My heart pounded as Tiffany let go of my hand then, finally letting the painkillers take hold.
“You believe that? She can’t handle anything,” Colt said. “Don’t take any of it personally when she’s intoxicated, or apparently, high on morphine.”
“Duly noted,” I replied with a nervous laugh. “I suppose we should head back to the ranch, huh? They said she’ll have surgery tomorrow, right?”
“To put a pin in, yes. Or a rod maybe, I’m not sure. Anyway, she’ll be medicated all night to keep her comfortable.”
I watched as Colt leaned over the hospital bed to brush some of Tiffany’s fair hair. He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, and it warmed my heart to see the affection in his eyes. It also brought back the memory of Colt’s soft lips pressed up against the back of my knuckles and the way he had held my hand the entire time we walked through the hospital parking lot. Tiffany had even made a good-natured jest at seeing our locked hands before I remembered to let go.
Carrying my sweater in my arms, I waited for Colt to talk with the doctors before we left the hospital in companionable silence. I didn’t question it either when Colt held out his hand for my truck keys before hopping behind the steering wheel. We drove back to the ranch in silence.
I chewed on the pad of my thumb nervously as we pulled up to the house. Rick’s truck was already gone, and the horses appeared to be fed and brushed. We were utterly alone, and my heart raced at the thought of spending the night with Colt without the comfort of Tiffany around to interrupt my fantasies.
The evening air was chillier than usual when I walked up to the house with Colt following silently behind. I rubbed at my arms as I glanced up at the darkening sky. Autumn was just around the corner. I could feel it in the air.
“I need to get some wood split,” Colt said. “There’s a fireplace we can light tonight if you want.”
“That sounds great. I can go scare up some dinner, too.”
He smiled at the offer before continuing along to the other side of the house. I dug through the fridge to find a chicken, freshly plucked, and smiled as I pulled it out. A roasted chicken on a cold night sounded good. I spent the next hour preparing for food while listening to the sound of an ax splitting wood outside.
It didn’t matter that we were alone for the first time. Colt was a gentleman. He wouldn’t make a move or take advantage of the time alone. Not with his sister in the hospital with a broken leg.
Still, a part of me wished that he would. I placed the rolls into the oven next to the chicken, the skin golden and crispy now. Too long. It had been too long since I had done anything like this with the opposite sex.
Dexter had been the one to ruin that for me. If he bought flowers, he expected sex. If he took me out to dinner, he expected sex. He expected sex in return for everything, to the point that I felt drained most of the time. The day I had enough of giving into his demands was the day he had posted those photos on the internet with links for our close friends to see, including his good pals.
Bitterness swelled in my chest. It wasn’t fair sometimes. My life back in Portland had been good, but after Dexter, I was stuck in a place I’d never wanted to be to begin with. No matter how much I appreciated and cared for Tiffany and Colt, the barn burning had been hard to deal with. I was still tempted to pack up and drive back to Portland, and admit to everyone that I failed to implement my dream, even after telling them I would prove everyone wrong.
The side door to the kitchen opened. I turned to face Colt and instantly wished that I hadn’t as he closed the door. Sweat dripped off every inch of his well-sculpted chest, toned abs, and those broad shoulders.
My throat clenched as lust bubbled in my veins. I couldn’t look away no matter how many times I told myself to. I followed a single sweat drop as it trailed down his toned stomach, disappearing into a trail of hair that disappeared below the waistband of his jeans.
I tore my eyes away to look up at Colt’s face and found his eyes focused on me. A smirk tugged at his lips, and not just any smirk. One filled with the pride of a man who knows he is appreciated.
“Dinner is just about done,” I squeaked out, turning away to hide my burning cheeks. “You, um, you’ve just got time to shower.”
“I suppose I should.”
He stopped briefly to look in the oven before continuing past me. Adjusting the shirt that was tossed over his shoulder, Colt gave me one last burning look before disappearing around the corner. I held my breath until I heard the water turn on above.
What are you doing, Cheyenne? Gawking at him like he’s some piece of candy?
Humiliation filled me. At one point, I had told my mother that Colt was like one of the cowboys you saw on the cheesy romance novels at the grocery store. He was physically fit and strong from years of ranching. Nothing would ever take that away—even years in an office in the city apparently.
I pulled out the chicken to slice it up and set the moist and tender pieces on a platter. Colt appeared ten minutes later, right as I set the hot rolls on another platter. This time, thankfully, he was wearing a normal white t-shirt and a pair of sweats.
“This smells great,” he said, grabbing a plate without pause. “I’m starving. I didn’t expect a trip to the hospital would take the entire day.”
I waited for him to dish up his plate before I joined him at the dining table. My appetite was replaced by something else entirely, but the first bite of chicken brought back my hunger. I heard Colt breathe in sharply before sitting back in his chair, chewing thoughtfully as he did.
“You’re a good cook,” he said. “I never expected that for some reason.”
“You’re a better one, at least from what I’ve tasted at the restaurant,” I said. “The Iron Stallion has some of the best food on this side of Oregon. In my opinion, anyway.”
Colt chuckled lightly at that.
“I actually have a cook who does all the cooking. I just supplied my mother’s recipes after swearing him to secrecy for the rest of his life.”
“You’re a fraud then,” I said, grinning when he looked at me with arched eyebrows. “I was led to believe you were doing all the cooking.”
“I help with the prep work. That counts for something.”
“That counts for nothing unless you’re doing all the meals that come out of that kitchen of yours.”
“Don’t tell anyone in Green Point,” Colt replied, winking roguishly at me. “They might get a little disappointed if they knew truth about me being a fraud and all.”
“I’m sure the women would be.” I sat up suddenly when an idea struck me. “I have a suggestion because I know that Tiffany talked to you about using your restaurant for a fundraiser.”
“Right,” Colt said slowly. “I really don’t mind doing it at my restaurant. It’s not a big deal for me to give up a night of business to such a great cause.”
I waved his words away.
“It is though. Every female that I’ve talked to is interested in you, so—”
“Everyone?” he repeated skeptically.
“Every single one,” I assured him. “Anyway, what about a silent auction? The highest bidders get to have a private dinner right here with you. I can figure out the details once the insurance adjuster comes out, and we can figure how much it’ll cost to rebuild the barn and—”
“Whoa. Hold on a minute.” Colt held up his hand, frowning at me. He leaned forward in his chair. “Why can’t we do this at the restaurant?”
I looked around at the spacious dining room with hardwood floors, expensive paintings, and the high arching windows that overlooked the forest.
“This place is beautiful. It’s romantic. You might get lucky and laid. Hey, I’m just trying to honor your sister’s request here.”
“My sister said you,” Colt said with a piercing look that sent shivers up my spine. “I’ll do whatever it takes to help, but sex is off the table with the other women.”
A small part of me danced at that. He only wanted to have sex with me. I stomped down on that victorious thought before I could let the excitement settle further. No men, Cheyenne. Just horses.
“Whatever you are comfortable with,” I managed to say, reaching for my water glass. “Thank you for doing all this for me. I can leave if you—”
“Cheyenne, stop it. If I didn’t want you here, I would tell you. Listen, I want you to stay.”
My heart raced when the pitch in Colt’s voice lowered. This was a bad idea, coming back here alone with the frail expectation that nothing would happen. I pushed my plate away, my appetite gone again, then rose from the table on wobbly legs.
“I—uh—”
Colt stood up as well. I wanted to believe it was a habit of his. Whenever I rose from the table, or a seated position, he stood up too. This time, however, I could see from the darkening color in his irises that he had every intention of coming around the kitchen table.
Run. Run.
“Cheyenne—” He took a step forward, one hand extended towards me. I was tempted to reach out, and feel those strong hands cradling mine again, but I knew what would happen. I knew that letting his hand touch mine would lead to more, and I just couldn’t allow that to happen.
“I have to go,” I said, backing away from the table. “I’m sorry, Colt. Coming here tonight, uh—it was a bad idea.”
I turned on my heel before he could say anything and darted up to the guest room. I had to get out before he convinced me to stay.