Prelude and Promises

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Prelude and Promises Page 18

by Barbara Baldwin


  Jake frowned as he opened the back door and looked out. Cheyenne could hear the wind rushing past the opening. “I should have known there was a storm brewing,” he said as he forced the door closed again. “It was too dark for seven o’clock, but I never even looked up. I was more concerned about getting us out of there.”

  He came back with the beer and they sat at the table and ate as rain battered the roof and windows. When she caught him staring at her without saying anything, she said, “What is it?”

  “Those men didn’t see me. You said they were staring at you. While I readily admit you’re a damned sight prettier than me, why would they be interested in you?”

  “And looking for something on their phone.”

  Jake’s gaze narrowed. “Or maybe looking at it.” He pulled out his phone and tapped some icons, scrolled, then frowned. He turned it to show her.

  “Oh, God.” Her picture, larger than life, jumped out at her. Below was her title at Donovan Academy of Music. He scrolled down to his own picture.

  “It wouldn’t take a genius to connect us.”

  Cheyenne tried to deny his assumption. “You don’t look anything like your picture on the website. How could they possibly…?”

  “It really doesn’t make any difference who they’re after, if they’re after us at all and we’re not simply being paranoid. We’re in it together, which means you need to stick to me like glue so I can protect you.”

  Cheyenne had been self-sufficient since the age of sixteen, probably even earlier and the thought that she needed protecting should have rankled. Instead, her heart fluttered and warmth spread through her at the idea that Jake cared enough to want to protect her. She jumped as another crack of thunder rattled the window panes.

  “There’s only one thing to do when it’s pouring like this,” Jake said as he collected their trash and bottles.

  “I am not going walking in the rain.” Cheyenne shook her head.

  He came over and pulled her from her chair, circling her waist and gathering her close.

  “Not what I was thinking,” he whispered in her ear as he rubbed his hips against hers and she felt the evidence of what he had in mind.

  “I’m not doing that in the rain either,” she said.

  “It would be like making love in the shower.” He was kissing her neck and behind her ear, all the sensitive spots he could reach. Another boom and light flashed outside the window.

  “Uh-uh. I have no interest in being struck by lightning and found naked on the deck.”

  Her comment made him chuckle and with a sigh he released her. “I guess we’ll have to do this the old fashioned way, on a bear-skin rug in front of a fire.”

  “You have no bear-skin rug,” Cheyenne said, sitting on the small table in front of the sofa as he put kindling and some wadded up paper in the small fireplace and lit a match. He looked over his shoulder, his gaze as hot as the cheery blaze he started.

  “Use your imagination,” he said as he pulled her down with him onto the braided rug.

  It wasn’t long before Jake’s inventiveness far outran anything her imagination could conjure.

  * * *

  Jake loved making love with Cheyenne. He loved the feel of her skin, her womanly scent, the little sighs and breathy gasps that fluttered in the air between them as they explored each other.

  “I adore you,” he whispered against her stomach as he made his way up her body, leaving hot kisses across her hips; in the valley between her breasts, at the curve of her graceful neck.

  “Mmm,” she murmured languidly and he smiled, knowing he had thoroughly exhausted her. He, by contrast, felt energized. He quietly slid away, careful not to disturb her, and closed the door to the bedroom behind him. The storm still raged, rain pouring down the windows in sheets. Music again hummed through him, as it always did when he was with her, and he grabbed the score sheets he kept by the bed and started jotting down the notes. The piano solo was emotional and seductive, the background orchestra portions representing the fury of the storm. The entire piece was almost complete, although he would have to take it to a proper piano to get the full sound.

  And it suddenly struck him that although it was good, in fact probably his best work ever, he could see evidence of his uncle throughout the score. In all honesty he did have much to be grateful for where his uncle was concerned as the man had given him the foundation on which he had built his career. It had only been in later years that he had become impossible. His thoughts were confusing, but he remained firm about the fact that he had not composed any of this for his uncle.

  He had told himself he wouldn’t enter a competition again and the fact was he hadn’t composed even a single phrase since his mother had died. But Cheyenne had inspired him, invigorated him and made him want to compose.

  He smiled. Okay, so he wanted to impress her. In doing so, he would also be doing what his uncle wanted, although Jake didn’t plan on telling him. He put another sequence of chords on the score and set it aside as the bedroom door creaked open.

  “Why didn’t you wake me?” Cheyenne stretched her arms over her head and Jake reacted immediately. Her breasts rose, the tips peaking as she stood in all her naked glory, a picture of beauty framed by the rough wood of the door.

  “Come here,” he growled, swinging his legs onto the bed and leaning against the headboard.

  Her hips swayed as she sauntered slowly to the end of the bed. Like a wild cat on the prowl, she slowly crawled over him, stopping to kiss his knees. He sucked in a breath. He had done the same to her, never realizing how erotic the action was. She looked up at him through her hair and grinned before continuing her explorations, each kiss higher and higher.

  “Cat.” He threaded his fingers through her hair, watching, anticipating her next move but he still wasn’t prepared for the shock when she bit his hip. He jerked and heat shot through him. Pure sensation flooded his brain and it took extreme effort to hold still. That lasted for no more than an eight count as she continued her explorations.

  “Stop.” He circled her arms and lifted her up to kiss her pouting lips. His hands cupped her breasts, thumb and forefinger pinching her nipples until they pebbled. all the while tongues dueled and moans echoed the thunder still rumbling outside.

  “Jake.” She pulled back, gasping. “You make me ache.” She rubbed against his belly, her fanny pressing back against his erection. Her breasts bobbed and he couldn’t resist sucking one into his mouth.

  “Now.”

  He grinned at her command which reminded him so much of the unyielding Miss Tucker. But it was the intrepid, sultry Cat whose hot sheath was slowly taking him in. Her blue gaze enticed him, her sexy sigh seduced him as she ground against him. And then she stopped.

  He released her breast and raised his head to watch her eyes close. Pink tongue peeked between lush lips, nostrils flared as her inner muscles squeezed him once, then again.

  When she opened her eyes and found him watching her, she smiled almost shyly. “You are so very fine, Jake Smith,” she said as she ran her fingers through his hair and clasped them behind his head. Pulling him forward she kissed him and he savored the taste of her.

  And then she began to move. Cymbals crashed and drums rolled in a rhythm that was indefinable and yet intuitive. He spread his hands across her bottom and her knees clinched him tighter. The tempo sped up and she jerked her head back, gasping. He sucked her neck, the sensitive curve of her breast, and still she rocked against him until as one, they exploded. For every spasm of his orgasm, she squeezed him tighter in her own release. When they finally drifted back to earth, she collapsed against his chest. His arms fell to the side, too weak to even hold her.

  After long minutes where all he heard was their harsh breathing, he felt her shudder against him.

  “Are you all right?” he managed to say.

  She shook her head slightly but he was sure he heard a sound. He lifted her off his chest so he could see her face and she burst into a fit o
f giggles.

  “Should I be offended?”

  She shook her head again, pressing her lips together but her mirth still showed in her glittering gaze. When she finally managed to contain herself, she bent forward and quickly kissed him.

  “Did you hear music?” she asked. “I swore I heard music at the very moment…”

  She didn’t need to finish. If he hadn’t already loved her, he would have fallen at that moment, knowing their hearts were so in tune with each other.

  * * *

  Cheyenne work the next morning to Jake’s voice in the outer room. She quickly pulled on his tee shirt and peeked out the bedroom door, assuring herself he was on the phone and not taking to a visitor. He walked out the back door as she poured a cup of coffee and hung up just as she joined him on the porch.

  “That was Trevor. He wanted to know if I was still alive and kicking.” He took her cup and sipped the coffee.

  “And then some,” she replied as he pulled her close with his other arm and kissed her.

  “Oh, yeah.” He started to kiss her again but his phone rang. “It’s Franklin.” He pushed the call button and put it on speaker. “What’s up, Sheriff?”

  “I got to Brenda’s but those men had left. Seems they didn’t like her service.” The sheriff laughed. “I didn’t see them on the street but she gave me a description and I took prints off their water glasses. Trouble is, I don’t have the software to run them here, so will have to get them to Seattle and that’ll take awhile. Even so, they haven’t done anything wrong at this point.”

  “I know,” Jake said. “We have no idea if it’s just a coincidence or if they’re after something.”

  “Well, all we can do is keep an eye out. Oh, and by the way, I’ve been checking and they’re not renting Max’s car. That’s one less way we have of tracking them so you be careful out there.”

  “Will do.” Jake disconnected with a sigh.

  “Now what?” Cheyenne asked.

  He hugged her. “Nothing to do but wait until he hears something. Like I told him, we don’t even know for sure what they’re up to. Maybe they were simply admiring a pretty face.”

  Cheyenne didn’t believe him, and from the look on his face, he didn’t believe his own words.

  “We’ll just have to lay low for a few days.”

  Cheyenne found Jake’s idea of lying low in a secluded cottage by a bay meant swimming naked in the moonlight and making love under the stars. They took long walks in the forest, one day ending up at the Ranger station where Cheyenne played with the puppies and the guys drank beer and told her outrageous stories of their fishing exploits. Yet her favorite memory of those days was when they cuddled in a blanket one morning to watch the sun rise over crystal water. Neither spoke of the time slipping away.

  On the third day of their self-imposed solitude, the sheriff called again.

  “It seems those two have been spotted around town asking about Joseph Donovan,” he said, static through the speaker making it hard for her to understand most of what he said. She did clearly hear Joseph Donovan and her heart skipped a beat.

  “Asking who?” Jake replied.

  “Well, so far I’ve heard from Brenda Kay, Lindsay, Mrs. Gilbert at the Laundromat, and McNally down at the harbor.”

  “Crap,” Jake swore.

  Cheyenne had to wonder if everyone on the island knew who Jake really was. If so, it was the worst and best kept secret at the same time.

  “You know what, Sheriff? Maybe we should let them catch me,” Jake said, a gleam in his eye.

  “No,” she whispered fiercely.

  “Absolutely not,” the sheriff replied at the same time.

  He caught her hand and held her still when she tried to storm off the deck. His gaze locked with hers as he continued talking to the sheriff. “Look. We know they’re looking for me, but they don’t know we know, so we bait them.”

  Cheyenne vehemently shook her head, her eyes tearing. She mentally cursed the Sheriff when he agreed with what Jake was suggesting.

  “That might work, if you try it in a public place where I can keep an eye on you and have my deputy as backup. What are you thinking?”

  “I need to visit Dr. Stephens and get my stitches out.” He looked at his watch. “Give us two hours and then we’ll be at the Gold Pelican.”

  Chapter 17

  Cheyenne argued with him all the way to town, but he refused to listen.

  “I can’t live looking over my shoulder all the time.” He tried to sound patient. “If my uncle didn’t send them, they’re after something else. Either way, I need to find out.”

  “But there are two of them.”

  “And Cam, the sheriff and a deputy will have my back.”

  She pursed her lips and turned to look out the window, ignoring him the rest of the trip.

  Jake knew she didn’t understand his need to be independent. And to tell the truth he was a little worried, even if he felt he was capable of taking care of himself. He had always had security while on tour so the paparazzi never got close. And he had the feeling these guys weren’t looking to take photographs or they wouldn’t be acting so suspicious.

  He exited the doctor’s office with a simple elastic wrap, his hand none the worse although the scar was still somewhat pink and tender. When Cheyenne walked away without a word, he quickly caught up and hooked an arm around her waist. Although stiff as a board, she did stop.

  “Hey.” He stepped in front of her and lifted her chin with a finger. Her gaze flitted here and there. “Look at me.” With a sigh, she finally met his gaze.

  “Can’t you trust me?” His question went far beyond an encounter at the bar and he knew she realized it.

  Her lip quivered and her eyes glistened with unshed tears. The fact that she cared so much about him made his heart lighter, even if she wouldn’t say the words he needed.

  “I swear if you get hurt again,” she finally said, “I will leave you to rot where you fall.” Her eyes narrowed when he burst into laughter. “Don’t tempt me to hurt you myself.”

  “God, you’re adorable,” he said, just before he kissed her. As soon as this was over, he would tell her how he felt, how much she had changed his life and they could talk about the future.

  They arrived at the Gold Pelican at the height of the lunch crowd. Cheyenne watched as Jake made a production of loudly greeting Cam and everyone else he knew before finding a stool at the bar for her. He hooked a foot on the rail and stood beside her.

  “Couple of beers, Cam,” he said, casually looking around while the bartender got their order. He turned back and nuzzled her ear as though in affection, yet his words were anything but loveable. “The sheriff is in a bright floral shirt and sunglasses near the front door,” he whispered. “His deputy is the guy toward the back with a camera around his neck and geek glasses.”

  Cheyenne felt a little better knowing law enforcement was nearby, until Cam came back with their beers.

  “Don’t look now, but I think your two suspects have arrived. Mutt and Jeff and casually dressed like Men in Black?”

  Jake nodded but acted nonchalant as he took a sip of beer and grabbed a handful of nuts from a nearby bowl. Cheyenne knew she would throw up if she drank her beer, so attempted a fake sip. The mere smell nearly did her in.

  “I want this to be over,” she hissed between clinched teeth. Jake put a hand on her back, rubbed, then let it slide up to squeeze her neck in a caress. “We know they’re here, can’t the sheriff arrest them now?”

  “They haven’t done anything,” Jake replied. “Unless you want to start another fight, this time with them…” He grinned when she elbowed him in the ribs.

  “Please don’t,” Cam said in passing. “I just got the last mess straightened out.” He looked directly at Jake. “The bill’s in the mail.”

  Jake downed the rest of his beer and took hers. “Got you covered,” he said.

  Cheyenne turned toward him. “That was not your fault. That man, Johnn
y Blaine, should be paying for it.”

  Cam snorted. “Ha. Getting money out of him would be like going fishing for Moby Dick.” Under his breath, he added, “Mutt and Jeff have settled at a table by the piano. I’d say the next move is yours.”

  Jake moved away from the bar. “Darling, excuse me a minute.”

  Cheyenne didn’t have time to savor his endearment. She grabbed his arm to stall him, but he simply gave her hand a squeeze and turned away. Her stomach dropped as she watched him saunter towards the restrooms at the back of the bar. She held her breath, watching for the two men to make a move. Several minutes passed and nothing happened. She turned back to thank Cam for the lemonade he had placed in front of her.

  “Shit, not again.” The words had barely left his mouth when Cheyenne heard a crash and several curses.

  She swiveled to see the two men standing by an overturned table, shouting at some other nearby people. Those men in turn started swinging and a brawl erupted. She saw the deputy wade into the throng, then the sheriff rushed past her.

  “Do something!” she cried at Cam.

  “I think they have it in hand,” he replied, nodding toward the back.

  Cheyenne scanned the subdued crowd looking for Jake but she couldn’t spot him. The sheriff and deputy were lining people up against the wall, shouting to be heard over the claims of who started the fight.

  “Oh, dear God!” She reached across the bar to grab Cam’s sleeve. “Those men are gone and I don’t see Jake!”

  “Sonofabitch.” Cam rushed to the end of the bar, shouted for the sheriff and disappeared down the hall.

  Cheyenne followed, determined to breach the men’s restroom if necessary to find Jake. She was half way down the hall when Cam emerged from the men’s room and rushed toward the back exit. He slammed open the emergency door and took a step into the alley, Cheyenne nearly running into his back as he stopped and looked both ways.

  The alley was empty.

  “Damn him! I told him this wouldn’t work,” she cried as she punched the bartender in the arm with her fist.

 

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