While she continued to look at the one in her hand, Brendon took her other hand in his, linking their fingers together slowly. Yep, something had definitely changed in the last few minutes and he welcomed the feeling.
“You ready to go?” he asked.
Cheyenne looked back up at him from beneath the bill of her hat. She didn’t say a word, but her nod was the only answer he needed.
“Good. Now let’s get outta here. I’m dangerous in this place. Before you know it, I’ll have a cart full of shit that I don’t need.”
Cheyenne chuckled, her fingers tightening around his. She still wasn’t talking, but there really wasn’t anything to say. What he’d done might not have been the most romantic thing in the world, but something had transpired between them. Something small, yet significant at the same time.
Brendon insisted on paying for the caps, since he’d been the one to suggest them. Once they were through the line and out the door, he motioned for her to change the one on her head. Cheyenne did so without argument and when she had, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was, by far, the most beautiful woman in the world. With no makeup on, wearing the Browning camouflage cap with the hot-pink symbol, a black tank top, denim shorts, and those sexy-as-fuck cowgirl boots, Cheyenne looked more appealing than any woman Brendon had never seen before.
Based on the way she was eyeing him, she could read every single one of his thoughts, too. Reaching for the door handle, he opened the passenger-side door and waited for Cheyenne to climb in, doing his damnedest not to gawk at her cute little ass while she did. Once he had the door closed behind her, he maneuvered around the truck, taking a deep breath before he joined her inside.
“Where to now?” he asked.
“My place?”
He was shocked at the immediate request. Almost as though she’d been thinking about it before he asked.
“What’s there to do there?” he questioned, realizing after it was too late what he’d actually said.
Cheyenne’s soft laughter had him glancing over as he pulled out of the parking lot and hit the road that would take them back to Coyote Ridge.
“I was thinkin’ you could help me sand a few chairs,” she said.
“I could do that.” He didn’t have anything better to do, and honestly, he was hoping to spend some more time with her. He wasn’t quite ready for the day to be over. Once he left her, he’d go back home and sit in front of the television until it was time for bed.
Speaking of home …
“You mind if we stop and pick up Scrap? He’s gonna be pissed if I leave him all day by himself.”
“Don’t mind at all.”
And with that, they were on their way.
chapter NINE
Cheyenne wiped her forehead with the sleeve of the old, tattered denim shirt she’d pulled on over her tank top when they started working outside. Her less-than-fashionable selection hadn’t been due to the mild May temperature, but rather to keep some of the stain off her skin.
Buying a house and working on it were two very different things, Cheyenne had come to see. Cleaning didn’t prove to be much of an issue; however, handiwork really wasn’t her thing. Not that she wasn’t having a good time giving it a whirl. But, as with most things that required a steady hand, she’d learned in recent days that she wasn’t the tidiest person when it came to getting her assortment of dining room chairs back to their original glory. Her shirt now reflected the proof of that statement with the dark brown splotches scattered along the arms and down the front.
“You want somethin’ to drink?” Cheyenne offered Brendon as she pushed to her feet, stretching her sore back muscles.
He was in the process of sanding the last chair. His brilliant idea to grab his power sander had helped them move the project along quite nicely and she had managed to get at least one coat of stain on each of the chairs as he completed sanding them.
“Sure,” he answered, turning off the sander and setting it on a makeshift table he’d set up.
The guy was pretty damned handy to have around, there was no doubt about that.
“Lemonade? Tea? What’s your poison?” she asked as she pulled off her work gloves and headed for the door.
“Whatever’s easiest,” he answered, his gaze trailing down her legs.
Throughout the afternoon, Cheyenne had noticed his attention had continuously strayed to her. How could she not notice? The way his eyes smoldered when he took in the sight of her was some pretty powerful stuff. Granted, she’d been doing the same to him, ogling the way his back muscles flexed and bunched as he worked, admiring the way his tight ass looked in those dark blue jeans. Yep, working in these conditions hadn’t been a hardship at all.