I’d witnessed first-hand people engaging in all stages and styles of mating rituals. After all the years I’d worked behind the bar I’d come to the conclusion that people truly were just animals. Sure, we acted civilized, but the truth was one single look could reveal our most base, animalistic desires that people tried to hide behind polite conversation.
“There’s coffee, but all I could find was decaf.” I heard the gruff quality in my voice.
“Yeah, I’ve been trying to cut down on caffeine.” Cheyenne began walking toward the table and her breasts jiggled beneath the thin cotton of her tank top.
I jerked my head back around and saw that I’d burnt the bacon. “Shit.”
With a fork, I pulled the charred pieces out of the pan and turned the heat off beneath it. I’d made enough food to feed an army. I’d always loved to cook and whenever I had the chance to cook for someone, I had a tendency to go overboard.
Behind me, I heard the chair scrape against the floor and the creak of Cheyenne lowering down into it. From the sound, I knew that Cheyenne had selected the chair on the far side of the table. That was how much time I’d spent in this house.
I knew the sounds that the furniture made.
After I’d gotten out of the Marines, I’d lived here with Billy for about six months. It was just another example of how he’d always been there for me. And yet, here I was looking at his sister’s nipples.
Guilt crept up my spine as I rinsed out the pan I’d used to make breakfast and set it in the dish rack beside the sink to dry.
“Hmm,” Cheyenne moaned as she bit into the bacon. I watched as she swallowed the bite and held in a groan of my own.
Marshmallow hopped up on the chair next to Cheyenne and meowed loudly.
“Oh shit. I need to feed—” she started to stand up.
“I fed them,” I interrupted her.
She froze halfway out of her chair. “You did?”
I nodded and dried off my hands, I’d also cleaned out the litter boxes because I doubted she’d feel like scooping poop after the night she’d had.
Tears formed in her eyes as she lowered back down. “Thank you.”
It was clear that it meant a lot to her that I’d fed the cats. It didn’t surprise me. Cheyenne was used to doing things for other people. I didn’t think she was used to having things done for her. Which was strange considering she’d been raised in a home that employed full-time staff. She should have been spoiled, but it was obvious that she wasn’t.
Every time I saw her reaction to anyone doing anything kind for her, it just made me want to do more for her. I wanted to be the person that took care of her. I wanted to be the one that took her home and tucked her in every night, not just last night. I wanted to be the one to make breakfast for her and coffee that was basically coffee-flavored sugar water. I wanted to be the one to feed her cats and change their litter boxes.
But my relationship with Cheyenne was like walking a tight rope with no safety net. One wrong move and I would end up falling to a very ugly demise.
“And thank you for bringing me home last night and staying and taking care of me. You didn’t have to do that.”
I did. There was no way that I could’ve left her alone last night. If I had gone home, I just would’ve tossed and turned all night and not gotten any sleep. As it was, I’d gone up to check on her every hour or so and cat napped in between.
Literally. I’d napped with cats lying on me.
“I just wanted to make sure that you were okay.”
The way that she was looking at me, like I was her hero, made me want to put on a cape and save the world. But I knew that I wasn’t the man that she thought I was. Just like I knew that I needed to get the hell out of here, no matter how much I wished I could stay.
I didn’t deserve her adoration, or anyone else’s. No matter how much I wished I did.
I finished drying off my hands and grabbed my keys off the counter.
“You’re leaving?” Her huge blue eyes were filled with disappointment that I hated to be the cause of.
“I’ve got a delivery.” It was the truth, every first Monday of the month we had our paper product delivery. But the other half of that “truth” was that Ray, who worked at and lived above Southern Comfort, had told me he could take care of it yesterday at the wedding.
“Oh right.” She nodded. “Well, um, thanks again.”
“Anytime.” I walked out without looking back and as soon as I shut the front door behind me my phone buzzed in my pocket.