Protecting Cheyenne (SEAL of Protection Book 5) Read online

  She’d spent the last three hours in the hospital. She’d given her statement to the police about what had happened, at least what had happened from her viewpoint. The nurses had removed the rest of the tape, which had been more painful than Cheyenne had thought it would be, and had both arms gooped up with lotion and antibiotics and who knew what else.

  The first time Cheyenne had looked in the mirror, she’d been shocked. She was a mess. She was splattered with blood and her hair was hanging limply against her head. Fortunately a nurse gave her a pair of scrubs she could change into and let her brush her hair. Cheyenne supposed she was lucky, but the only thing she could think about was getting home and into a nice hot shower.

  The problem with that was she wasn’t supposed to get her arms wet for the next twenty four hours because of the bandages and the antibiotic mixture they’d smeared on her arms. The nurses had helped as much as they could in trying to get the blood out of her hair, but Cheyenne knew until she had a shower, she wouldn’t feel clean.

  She sighed. Cheyenne hadn’t seen Faulkner since he’d helped her into the ambulance and squeezed her hand. She didn’t expect to see him again really. After all, he was just doing his job. He’d go home and probably shoot the shit with his friends about what a crazy day he’d had, and then continue on with his life, just like she would…except first she had to get home.

  Since her car was still in the grocery store parking lot, Cheyenne had to call a taxi. It really was pathetic that she didn’t have one person she felt comfortable in calling and asking to come get her. There was no way in hell she was calling her mom or sister. They’d never let her live down her bad luck. A shitty day would just get worse if she involved either of them. Eventually she’d call and explain everything that had happened, but it’d have to be on a day she felt better able to deal with them. And that day certainly wasn’t today.

  Cheyenne knew she was a loner. She didn’t really mind, except for times like this. She could’ve called one of her friends from work, but she hated to rely on other people, and besides, they weren’t really the kind of friends that she felt comfortable calling out of the blue to pick her up from the hospital of all places. So, she’d simply called a taxi and now was waiting to go home. Home to her lonely apartment. Cheyenne still had two days before she had to go back to work and she planned on crashing in bed and sleeping for one of those days, then she’d take the longest shower known to man, and then get herself together and back into the routine of her life.

  Cheyenne laughed out loud, making the little old lady sitting in the hospital waiting room look at her disapprovingly. She still had to get some food. She’d been at the grocery store that afternoon for a reason. She had some cans of cream of mushroom soup and salad dressing, and that was about it. Screw it. I’ll order in until I can I get back to the store. Cheyenne knew she’d never shop at the grocery store she’d been held hostage in again, even if it was where she’d first seen Faulkner. And even if it was a popular store for other men in uniform. It wasn’t that she thought she’d be taken hostage again, it was just…she didn’t know. She wasn’t comfortable with the thought of entering the store again.

  The taxi finally arrived outside the automatic doors. Cheyenne made her way outside, verified the car was there for her, and climbed into the backseat that smelled slightly of body odor and cigarette smoke. After giving directions to the taxi driver, Cheyenne put her head back on the seat, deliberately not thinking about how many germs and nasties might be lurking on the headrest, and closed her eyes. She felt weird. The painkillers the doctors had given her were obviously doing their job because she wasn’t in any pain, but they also made her a bit woozy. She probably shouldn’t be driving once she got to her car, but it wasn’t too far to her apartment from the parking lot of the grocery store. She’d be extra cautious. She’d be fine. She always was.

  * * *

  Dude couldn’t stop thinking about Cheyenne. She had to be the bravest person he’d met in a long time. Her actions reminded him a lot of Ice’s. Hell, all of his teammates’ women for that matter. Cheyenne had faced what happened to her with courage and she hadn’t panicked. From the first time Dude had seen her backing away from the officers trying to keep them from harm, to the last look he had of her smiling bravely at him as he left her in the ambulance, she’d been grace personified.

  He didn’t want to leave her, but Dude knew he had to give his statement to the local cops and get back with his CO. He’d spent a good hour going over what had happened inside the store with Cheyenne and what he’d done and seen. Since Dude wasn’t related to Cheyenne, there was no reason, or really any excuse, for him to go with her to the hospital.

  The press had been relentless. Dude knew it was their job, just as it was his job to give a report of what had happened, but this time was different somehow. Each time they asked the police department’s representative probing questions about Cheyenne and where she lived and what she said and what she thought and what she did, Dude just wanted to rail at them and tell them it was none of their damn business and to leave her alone. Cheyenne was a grown woman, she could handle herself…she didn’t need him. But there was something about her that made him want to wrap her in his arms and protect her from the world anyway.

  * * *

  The taxi pulled up in front of the grocery store. “Was it just this morning I was here?” Cheyenne thought ruefully. Seriously, it felt like it’d been days since she’d walked into the store intent on buying enough to fill up her pantry so she’d be good to go for a good long while.

  Cheyenne painfully eased out of the back seat after paying the driver. As the taxi pulled away, she started walking toward her car. She’d parked near the back of the lot that morning, as was her habit, to try to get a little extra exercise. As she approached her car she heard the sound of a vehicle pulling up behind her.

  Feeling extraordinarily cautious after everything that had happened, Cheyenne quickly turned and watched as a huge pickup came to a stop and Faulkner hopped out. Cheyenne looked at him in confusion. What was he doing here? She looked around to see if anyone else was there that he was meeting. There was no one else. The parking lot was deserted, it was only the two of them.

  Dude eyed Cheyenne as he neared. She looked perplexed to see him. She also looked tired…and adorably cute. She was wearing blue scrubs from the hospital, no doubt because her clothes were ruined. They were big on her, and it looked like if she moved the wrong way, the pants would fall right off of her. There were dark smudges under her eyes, which made her black eye even more prominent, and both arms were bandaged from wrist to elbow, and probably beyond, but Dude couldn’t see because of the scrubs she was wearing.

  “Hi again,” Dude said softly as he came to a halt in front of Cheyenne.

  “Um…Hi.” Cheyenne said haltingly. “What are you doing here?”

  Dude laughed and looked her in the eye. “I started thinking about how you probably drove to the store today, and since you were taken to the hospital in the ambulance that somehow you’d have to get back here to get your car. I wanted to meet you at the hospital and see how you were doing and give you a ride, but when I called, they told me you’d already been discharged. I’m sorry I missed you.”

  Cheyenne looked at the man in front of her in confusion. “You called? Why would you do that?” she asked, not thinking about how rude it sounded until it was too late. “I…I...mean,” she stammered, eager to make sure Faulkner didn’t take offense.

  Dude chuckled. “I know what you mean, Shy, and to be honest I’m not sure why…I just wanted to be sure you were okay and to see if I could help you in some way. What did the doctor say?” He gestured at her arms with his chin.

  “Uh, okay, well, I’m okay. They just bandaged my arms to make sure they wouldn’t get infected or anything. They’re covered in some slimy horrible goo that makes me want to scratch. I’m not supposed to get them wet, which is ridiculous because the goo is gross and I feel disgusting after everything tha
t happened today. I don’t have any food in my apartment, which isn’t surprising considering I was in the damn store in the first place this morning. My food is probably still sitting in my cart in the middle of one of the aisles, and I’m hungry, and I don’t know if I can eat anything because the pills they gave me are making me feel really weird.”

  Cheyenne’s words faded in the air around them and she immediately closed her eyes. Holy shit, had all that crap really just spewed out of her mouth? She was mortified.

  “Aw, come here, Shy.” Dude felt his heart melt a bit more at her words. She was adorable. Whatever drugs they’d given her were obviously making her much more talkative than she probably normally was. He’d known a few sailors and marines who reacted the same way to painkillers. They’d talk and talk and talk seemingly without any filter. It was a hell of a lot cuter on Cheyenne.

  Without waiting for her to move, Dude took a step toward her and pulled her into his arms. He relaxed as Cheyenne melted into him. He’d been half afraid she’d rebuff his attempt to soothe her. Dude heard her sniff once, then felt her bury her nose into his neck. Her breath was warm against his skin and Dude tilted his head just a bit until he was touching her with his cheek.

  “You smell good.”

  Dude smiled. That wasn’t what he thought she’d say. She was constantly surprising him.

  “Thanks.” Dude stood in the dark parking lot holding an amazing woman and realized he didn’t want to let her go. “Can I take you home?”

  “I need my car.”

  “I don’t think you should be driving. I don’t know you all that well, but I imagine if you were in your right mind you never would have told me all of that other stuff. Am I right?” He felt her nod reluctantly against him and smiled. “Okay then. I’ll take you home. I’ll arrange for your car to get to your apartment.” Dude knew he could call any of his teammates to come and get it and drive it home for her.

  Cheyenne was too tired to argue or even protest. It felt so good to be taken care of, she couldn’t remember a time when someone had offered, or who she allowed, to take care of her. At that moment Cheyenne would’ve probably agreed to anything Faulkner said.

  She startled when he spoke again, “I gotta hear you say it’s okay, Shy.”

  Cheyenne forced herself to look up at the man holding her. She looked into his eyes and saw nothing but sincerity. “Okay, but if you’re really a serial killer can you please kill me quickly? I’ve had a really bad day.” Her words came out softly, but with one hundred percent honesty.

  Dude laughed out loud and brought his hand to Cheyenne’s cheek. “Painkillers really loosen your tongue, don’t they?” He asked rhetorically. “Don’t worry, Shy, I promise I’ll get you home in one piece. You’re safe with me.”

  “I feel safe with you. I don’t know why or how, but I do. Thank you, Faulkner. Seriously. I know you probably have better things to do than lug my ass around. But I appreciate it. I do. Really.”

  Dude pulled back and kept a hand around Cheyenne’s waist, and steered her toward his truck. “I know you do, hon. Come on, let’s get you home. We don’t want you turning into a pumpkin. Do you have your keys?”

  “Yeah, my purse was delivered to me at the hospital by one of the cops when he came to get my statement. I have no idea how they found it in the chaos of the store, I sure as hell couldn’t have just slung it over my shoulder and pranced out of the store with you.”

  Dude nodded, glad he wouldn’t have to pick the lock to her apartment to get her inside. He would’ve done it, but it wasn’t exactly the first impression he wanted to leave Cheyenne with. He opened his passenger door and helped her sit, then reached over and buckled her in. Dude closed the door and made his way around to the driver’s side. He settled into the seat and looked over at Cheyenne. Her head was resting against the headrest and she was turned toward him.

  “What is it, hon?”

  “You’re hot. I’m assuming you know this.” Cheyenne sounded like she was imparting some deep dark secret to him.

  “Shy…” He didn’t disagree, but he didn’t agree either. She was extremely charming all drugged up. Dude shuddered to think about her actually driving in this condition.

  “Seriously, you are. I don’t know why you’re here though. Did you lose a bet or something? Are your buddies around somewhere ready to bust out and laugh?”

  “What?” Dude was getting pissed. Cheyenne couldn’t mean what it sounded like she meant.

  “Yeah, no one who looks like you has ever taken a second look at me before. I’m just me. You’re…well…you’re sex on a stick.”

  Dude didn’t even smile at her words. She had to be kidding him. “Hon…”

  “No, really. I know I’m not a troll. I’m passable, I actually think I’ve got great calves, and I like my arms…at least I did before I had the hair completely ripped off of them. Let me tell you, I don’t think duct tape is gonna become the new fashion fad anytime soon. But I’m not the kind of woman you probably are with all the time. I bet chicks throw themselves at you. When you go out to the bar I bet you always leave with someone right? Oh shit! I bet you hang out with a gang of hotties don’t you? Jesus, You leave a wake of devastation behind you wherever you go, don’t you?”

  Dude raised his right hand and covered Cheyenne’s mouth lightly. He didn’t know whether to be pissed at her assumptions, or to be flattered. When she stayed silent, and simply looked at him with wide eyes, he told her, “Cheyenne, first, there’s no fucking bet and I’m kinda pissed you’d even accuse me of something like that. I think you’re exquisite. Funny. Cute. Interesting. And there’s nowhere I’d rather be than right here, right now, with you. Second, yes, I have a group of friends and we hang out, but almost all of them are either married or in a serious relationship. We don’t leave a wake of anything behind us, because we only have eyes for our women.” Dude didn’t even stop to think about what he was saying, that he was suddenly including Cheyenne in his thoughts and words.

  “I hope like hell when you wake up in the morning and the pain pills have worn off you’ll remember this conversation and want to hang out with me and my friends. You’re like them more than you know.”

  Dude smiled at the look on Cheyenne’s face. She hadn’t picked her head up off the head rest, but watched him with serious eyes.

  “But you’re perfect…” She mumbled the words around his hand and would’ve said more, but Dude interrupted her.

  “I’m not even close to fucking perfect. I’m kinda a slob, I have a tendency to throw my shit on the floor until it annoys me too badly and I have to put it in the hamper. I have a temper, but I’d never raise my hand to you or any other woman. I’m controlling and like to be in charge. And…” Dude held up his left hand, reminding Cheyenne of his disfigurement. “Enough women have told me this is disgusting, or just plain gross, for me to think I’m anything but perfect.”

  Cheyenne didn’t even think. She brought her hand up to his and grasped it tightly and brought it to her mouth. She kissed each mangled stub of a finger as she spoke. “Those dumb bitches don’t know what they’re talking about. You’re perfect, Faulkner. These little scars don’t mean dick. Wait, yes they do. They mean a lot. They mean you’re a hero. That you’ve suffered helping our country, helping people out of shitty situations. I don’t know what kind of situations, ‘cos if you told me, you’d probably have to kill me, but I don’t really want to know anyway ‘cos I’m kinda a wuss. But if those women rejected you because of your hand, they’re complete morons. Seriously.” Cheyenne closed her eyes, still feeling dizzy, and at the same time wanting to concentrate on the feel of Faulkner’s skin against her own, and brought his hand to her cheek, missing the look of endearment on Dude’s face.

  “Your skin is so soft, except here.” Cheyenne rubbed her face against his scars. “It’s rough and where your fingers were, the skin is raised and bumpy. It feels so good against my skin. It’s like a massager. I can only imagine what it’d feel like…”
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  Cheyenne stopped abruptly and Dude could see her blushing. Was she really going to say what he thought she was? “Go on, Shy, this I want to hear.”

  Cheyenne let go of his hand, but Dude continued to brush his fingers against her cheek.

  “Uh, anyway, those women were idiots.”

  “God, you’re fucking sweet.”

  Cheyenne opened her eyes and saw the intensity in Faulkner’s. She wanted to close her eyes, the cab of the truck was filled with a weird vibe, but she couldn’t.

  They stared at each other for a moment before Dude’s hand left her cheek and went behind her neck. He pulled her toward him and kissed her forehead and stayed close with his lips resting against her for a moment, before pulling away.

  “Let’s get you home, Cinderella, before the clock strikes midnight.”

  “I love that story,” Cheyenne sighed dreamily.

  “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Dude said absently as he started up his truck and headed out of the parking lot.

  Cheyenne giggled at his words and fell silent.

  “Where am I going, Shy?”

  “To my apartment.”

  “Yeah, I got that, but where is that?”

  “Oh. Shit. These are some crazy drugs.”

  “Yeah.” Dude waited a beat, then reminded her of his question.

  “Sorry. I live at Oak Tree Apartments on Copper and Fifth.”

  “I know where that is. Thanks, I’ll get you there. What apartment?”

  Cheyenne turned to him again and teased, “Are you sure you’re not a serial killer?”