Cheyenne (The Women of Merryton Book 4)

by Jennifer Peel

  Our breaths were as heavy and deep as the connection between our eyes.

  “Thank you for saving my life.” There. I finally said it. It felt good to get that off my chest. “Now go.”

  “I’m glad I was there.”

  I dropped my keys in his hand as I walked by him. “Leave the keys in the lock on your way out.”

  He grabbed my hand. “You still hate me, right?”

  “I loathe you.” And I did. I hated that he could make me feel so good. That his words could cut me to my center. And most of all, I hated that I could never have him.

  Chapter Seven

  I rested my tired but restless body on the couch. I was already on my second bag of ice and third episode of The Walking Dead. And I still felt Aidan surging through my veins. I touched my lips, remembering how his lips glided against them, how he teased and pulled on them. I was mad at myself for kissing him and furious at him for responding in a most excellent way. The question is, why did he? Why did I?

  And what was up with him hanging out all day at my salon? Abby and Jessie were texting me about it all night. It was big news on the Merryton grapevine. Everyone was sure we’d had a tryst of some sort and he’d spurned me, which is why I refused to see him today. I wished we’d had a tryst—it would have probably been mind-blowing—but he was probably too pure to have one. But FYI, no man would be spurning me again. Paxton was the first and last. It was my own fault for becoming emotionally invested. I had let my guard down.

  At least no one knew Aidan and I had been having earth-shattering make-out sessions. That was another thing. Why did he keep kissing me back? He didn’t seem like the type to randomly kiss women. I had him painted as a one woman at a time kind of guy. Or really a no woman kind of guy. He hadn’t dated anyone I knew of since he arrived a few years ago. Plenty of women had tried. Even I’d tried to test the waters with him. I only found they were ice cold. It was a stark contrast to the heat I felt tonight and at the Christmas party.

  His passion was wasted. That was, unless he had managed to date under the radar. The way he talked about his wife, though, said he wasn’t over her. Mary. I lied when I said I didn’t want to know what happened to her. But I didn’t want to know so I could shout it out. Obviously, I would tell Jessie and Abby. Maybe Rachel and Taylor. I wanted to know because I wanted to know what made him tick.

  I was about ready to shut my phone off. The texts from my best friends were tiring me. Then my mom called. It was eleven here, which made it one in the morning in Florida. I dreaded answering. I knew she was either intoxicated or needed money. Lucky for me it was both.

  “Cheyenne,” she half slurred, half giggled. At least she was a happy drunk.

  “Mom. It’s late.”

  “I know baby, but I miss you.”

  “I miss you too.” I’d been missing the real her for years. She was never the same after my dad walked out on us when I was eleven.

  “I hate to ask,” I don’t think she did, “but could you loan me a few hundred dollars?”

  Loan? If that was the case, she owed me at least fifty thousand.

  I didn’t even ask her anymore what it was for. I knew she was lying half the time. “I’ll wire it to the grocery store near your apartment. And there will be a gift card there so you can buy groceries.” Her credit was so bad she couldn’t have a bank account. I’d flown to Florida last year and talked to the manager that ran the grocery store near her apartment. He made sure she used the gift cards for what they were meant for. At least I knew she was eating.

  “You’re the best, baby. I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” I hung up and stared at my phone. When I was younger, everyone used to tell me how beautiful I was, just like my mother, Devon. Everyone thought that Devon and Eric Fairchild were like Barbie and Ken. We even lived in Barbie’s dream house. I thought we lived a perfect existence, too, until we found out that Ken was playing house with more than one Barbie. I had half-siblings I had never met. The last time I saw my dad was six years ago. He was on wife four or five I think. I’d lost count. But this one wanted to meet me, so I met them in Denver for dinner where they had a layover. It was as superficial as any relationship I had with the men in my life.

  It seemed fitting since it was my dad who had taught me to be that way. I remember the nights I heard my mom beg my dad to stay, to choose her. She promised to forgive him if only he would choose her. I naively thought he would because of me. Wasn’t I his angel? I even begged him to stay. He only hugged me and told me someday I would understand and I would always be his number one girl. He was half right. I did come to understand. I came to see that men took what they wanted from you, including your looks, confidence, and money in the case of some of the losers my mom had married and dated. Some didn’t settle until they took your soul.

  I promised myself I would never be a man’s number one girl again. I was going to be my own number one. My lapse in judgement last year only proved to me that I had been right all along.

  I wasn’t going to live for men the way my mother did. Following them around, believing all the lies they told her. That’s how she ended up in Florida. Who knows where I would have ended up if it wasn’t for Jessie and her family. My senior year, my mom married loser number two and he got a job in Maryland. I refused to move or live with him. He gave me the creeps. It was one of the times my dad did right by me. He made it so I could move in with the Ryans, Jessie’s parents, and finish my senior year. Heaven forbid he would have asked me to come live with him. He was in New Mexico at the time. Not that I would have, but he didn’t even offer. He just sent money. That was his idea of taking care of me.

  Jessie and Abby were my family now. And I took care of myself.

  Maybe that’s why Aidan haunted me. When I had my accident, it was the first time in a very, very long time I needed someone. He witnessed me at my most vulnerable moment. And he did exactly what I needed him to do; he didn’t say a word. He was just there. I felt protected. I’ve never felt that way before. At least not since I was a little girl, but my dad made sure to obliterate that. Even when Aidan and I kissed at Christmas before the accident ever happened, I felt in his kiss that he was different from anyone I had ever been with.

  Perhaps that’s what made me hate him. Because there was a chance he was different, but he didn’t want someone like me. He even admitted tonight he didn’t want to like me. But his kiss said he did. His kiss said he wanted me.

  I had been watching him, and although he kept to himself he always seemed to be helping other people. He did it in a way that went unnoticed, like he didn’t want the thanks. For example, I bet no one knew he bought the playground equipment for the church. And ever since he moved to town some anonymous person had done some pretty amazing things for some needy families during Christmas. I had feeling it was him. The Wright family—with seven kids—all got new bikes last year, and their December mortgage was paid for. The year before that, the Haskills’ roof was replaced and a load of presents magically appeared on their doorstep.

  He even offered to pay for the new kitchen at his brother’s church. I hated that he was decent. Or at least appeared to be. Everyone besides me in this town loved him. And though quiet, he seemed to like everyone but me.

  I could be done with him now. I said my thanks and told him exactly how I felt about him. And I got one more amazing kiss out of it, which wasn’t the best idea. It only made me want more. But from here on out, I was back to my no men policy, even if it sucked. They were all undeserving of even a piece of me, certainly not all of me. Or was he?

  ~*~

  Aidan and I were still the talk of the town the next day. It got so bad that I had to yell that the next person that mentioned him in my salon was going to get fired or maimed. It was then that Nathan Bates walked through the door. That caused a collective giggle. What was up? I thought I had made it clear that I wanted nothing to do with his holy ways or his church or his brother, for that matter. And his wife told me tha
t to save money, she cut his hair. It answered the question of why his hair was always uneven.

  I was getting ready to leave for lunch. I needed to run to the bank to wire the money to my mom and grab something to eat before my next appointment arrived in forty-five minutes.

  Nathan had a permanent smile plastered on his face. It was annoying and unnatural. If he was here for a haircut, he was going to have to see someone else. I had done my good deeds for the week. I had cut his wife’s hair and my friends’ children’s hair all for free. I probably wouldn’t have charged Aidan either, but only because he saved my life.

  I did my best to ignore that Nathan was there. I walked me and my high heels toward the exit. I had to hustle.

  “Cheyenne, I was hoping I would catch you here.”

  That was a good bet figuring I owned the place.

  “I’m headed out. Check with Jade to see if someone else can squeeze you in.”

  “I’m not here for a haircut. I wanted to talk to you.” That was too bad on both accounts. He could use a good haircut, and I didn’t want to talk to him.

  “Like I said, I have some errands to run.”

  I wasn’t deterring him. “I promise it will be brief. Maybe I could walk with you or buy you lunch?”

  What? He was the second to last person I wanted to be seen with. “I don’t have long. I have to head to the bank and—”

  “No problem. It’s a beautiful day. We can walk together.”

  He was dense like his brother and not taking the hint. But the longer he was there, the more stares and buzz he was generating. “Fine, preacher man. Talk and walk fast.”

  He laughed and opened the door for me.

  I threw on my shades in the blinding August sun. “What did you want to talk about?”

  “Aidan.”

  “Bzzzz. Try again.”

  He laughed some more. “Okay. Let’s try, thank you for helping Kristen. She hasn’t felt this good in a long time.”

  “I’m glad.” I hoped that was it. People passing by on the sidewalk were starting to stare at us. I knew it would only lead to more rumors that something existed between Aidan and myself, or worse, that I was becoming religious. I shuddered in the warm air at the thought. If God really did exist, he was no friend of mine.

  “You really have a way with hair.”

  “That’s my job.” We were one block from the bank.

  The preacher man kept up my furious pace that was doing my leg no favors. “Kristen mentioned something about you having some fundraising ideas.”

  I snorted. “Believe me, you don’t want my ideas.”

  “Why not?”

  “Nate—can I call you that?”

  “Sure.”

  “Okay, Nate. Here’s the deal. I don’t do church. I don’t do church fundraisers. I don’t even do nice things. I’ve done things that would probably singe your hair and make you pray for mercy on my soul. And where I know my ideas could raise all the money you need for your kitchen, it wouldn’t be in a way you were comfortable with. Why don’t you ask Jessie or Abby? They love this kind of stuff.”

  He was silent, which gave me the false hope that I had made him see reason and he would never bother me again. I so wrong. The bank was in sight. I thought I was saved. No pun intended.

  “What if I told you that God told me he wanted you to be the one to head this up?” That escalated quickly. I thought he wanted ideas.

  I stopped dead in my tracks and stared straight at the delusional, smiling man. How could he say that with a straight face? “Well, normally I would laugh in your face, but you and your wife seem like nice people and you’ve been through a lot lately, so I won’t. And this probably won’t surprise you, but I don’t believe in God. I think you might want to get a mental health evaluation if you’re hearing things.”

  He tilted his head. A thoughtful smile replaced his happy one. “Have you ever believed in God?”

  “That’s a personal question.”

  “The most.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Good luck with your fundraiser.” I picked up the pace and left the pastor in the dust. Who did he think he was, asking me about God or telling me that God talked to him about me? If God couldn’t answer a little girl’s prayer to make her daddy stay, then I couldn’t believe there was one. If dads weren’t more important than kitchens to God, I didn’t want to know him even if he was real.

  Chapter Eight

  I was trying to think of a good excuse not to go to the party at the Turners. I was serious about the ridiculousness of a one-year anniversary party. Pin a rose on your nose, you made it a year. Big deal. They were masking it as an end of summer party, but we all knew. Everyone was talking about what they should get them. I wouldn’t be throwing down any cash on a present. The only reason I was going was because I had been absent from all social gatherings since the accident, and that had everyone’s panties in a wad out of concern for my wellbeing. They could get over themselves. I was fine. I was going tonight to prove that point.

  I knew it meant seeing Aidan, who thankfully I had managed to avoid the past week and a half along with anyone from his family. It didn’t mean I hadn’t thought about him. It was hard not to when Abby and Jessie asked me every day if I’d seen him. I was going to ignore him tonight. Rachel and Andrew’s house was huge, so it would be easy. They lived out on the lake. I used to live out there too when I was growing up. That’s where the dream house was. It was on the other side of the lake from the Turners. Now the Gephardt’s owned my old home. It was never the same after my dad moved out. I didn’t dwell on it. What good would it do?

  Besides, I was a better person for it. My eyes were opened. I had been saved from a lot of heartbreak, as far as I was concerned.

  I chose a killer denim miniskirt for the party. Not too killer since children were invited, which meant I wouldn’t be staying long. I loved my friends’ kids, but that was as far as I went, and even that was questionable at times. I was going to make my appearance and then go home to research and book a vacation to a tropical destination over the holidays. It was going to be my first solo trip, and a test of my will power. There was nothing better than having a fling in a foreign country. Everything about it was hotter. Not sure why, but man was I going to miss it.

  The party started at three, but I had to work until five, so I was late, which was okay. They were making their Jet Skis and boat available for waterskiing. No, thank you. The only water I did now was my shower. And dinner wasn’t until six. That’s when I was showing up. My motto was to never turn down food prepared by other people. Come to think of it, I really only ate food prepared by other people. I was good with washing fruits and vegetables and eating them raw. Scooping ice cream and buying that premade cookie dough and eating it out of the tub was doable. I had tried baking it once and my smoke alarms said don’t try that again. I managed to pour milk for cereal, but it wasn’t my favorite. But it was life sustaining, so sometimes when I was too tired to stop for takeout I went with it. These were as far as my domestic skills went. I even had a cleaning lady. She was worth every penny.

  She had more to do now that I was at home more often. Have I mentioned how much I missed men?

  There were cars everywhere when I showed up at Rachel and Andrew’s place. Did they invite the whole town? It wouldn’t have surprised me if they had. Andrew loved big parties. Rachel not so much, but she put up with them. Again, who needed a man? They’re only trouble. My friends called it compromising. I called it a good reason to stay single. Why should anybody have to do anything they didn’t want to just because they were married? And look at Rachel, she was miserable being pregnant with twins. The last thing I’m sure she wanted was to throw a big party. No doubt Andrew said he would handle all the preparations. He was a fantastic cook, even better than Jessie, but no one would ever say that.

  I could smell something delicious on the grill when I got out of my Mustang. I had parked out of the way so no one would block me in. I was ditching t
his gig as soon as I made an appearance and ate.

  I looked around for Aidan’s Land Cruiser, and as would luck would have it, I didn’t see it. Maybe he had come earlier or he knew I would be here so he wanted to avoid me as much as I wanted to avoid him. Either way it was a win.

  It was just starting to cool down. Fall wasn’t too far off; you could feel it in the air. Even the Aspen trees were looking more golden than green. The scent of the pine trees that dotted the landscape melded with the barbecue, making my nose happy. Their home was worthy of a retired major league pitcher’s bankroll. Rachel had scored in more ways than one. Andrew called it a log cabin, but it was a mansion, let’s be real. My favorite part of the home was the huge deck in the back. And from the noise, I was guessing that was where most people were. I saw a few kids and adults still out on the lake, but like I said, the temperature was starting to drop. It did that up here in the mountains at night even in the summer months. It was a perk.

  My favorite eight-year-old was to me first. Isabelle was still in her swimming suit and wet. I hugged her anyway. “Do you want to go on the Jet Ski with me?”

  “Not today, cuteness.” Or ever. I wasn’t sure water and I would ever be friends again. It was why I wasn’t going to do a cruise like I normally did in the winter.

  “Please?”

  “I didn’t bring my swimsuit.”

  Her pouty lip came out. She did it so well. It drove Abby nuts, but it was going to work for her someday. But on that someday I would tell her to stay away from boys.

  She ran back to the lake when her dad, Shane, called to her. I was glad to see he was watching after her. That always seemed to fall on Abby’s shoulders. And it irked me when he would agree to “babysit” his kids. I never understood why Abby put up with that crap. I didn’t care that he was a doctor and brought home a paycheck. Abby worked harder than anyone I knew. And Shane always made it sound like he was being magnanimous when he watched the kids or cleaned the kitchen. It was like he wanted a parade for the act.