“Grams said you hadn’t been by in a while,” Frankie said with a nasty smirk. “Too good for the rest of us now, huh, Chey?”
Brendon growled at her side, but Cheyenne put her hand on his arm. This was the way things went with them. Her father would pretend to somewhat give a shit, her mother would fill the silence with nasty condescension, and then finally, they would get down to the true reason they were there. Cheyenne had learned to wait for the latter.
“Well, we’ve got some things to do today,” Brendon informed them.
“Exactly who are you?” Paul asked, his eyes narrowing on Brendon’s face.
“He’s my boyfriend,” Cheyenne informed her father, doing her best to keep her tone flat and even.
“Oh, how cute is that? She’s picked up another leech. They seem to come out of the woodwork where our little Cheyenne is concerned. How long will this one hang around?” her mother asked. Her eyes moved to Brendon’s as she said, “They don’t usually get to stay long.”
“Longer than you will,” Brendon said readily.
Frankie’s face scrunched in distaste as she glared at Brendon.
“Look,” Cheyenne said with a sigh, hopping down from the bar stool. “We really do have things to do today. Could we just fast-forward to the part where you tell me what you need?”
“We need a place to stay,” Paul said quickly.
“Sorry, I don’t have room.”
Frankie’s eyes cased the room dramatically. “Not enough room? Looks like the mansion you’ve taken up residence in has plenty of room.”
“Actually, it doesn’t,” Cheyenne told them bluntly, ignoring the comment about her house being a mansion. Three thousand square feet definitely didn’t qualify her place as anything remotely close. Even if she had forty extra bedrooms, she wouldn’t let her parents stay for a minute. She’d learned her lesson the one time she’d done that. When she woke up to find her television missing, she’d promised herself not to fall for their tricks again. “I’m remodelin’ and things aren’t finished yet.”
“I’m sure you’ve got a spare room for us. We won’t stay long. Just a coupla months until we get back on our feet,” her father said softly as though he’d made the decision and that was final.
“A coupla months?” Cheyenne exclaimed. “What the hell did you do with all the money you stole from Grams?”
Okay, so she’d lost her cool a little sooner than she anticipated. She’d known that her parents had blown through her grandmother’s money long ago, but she’d never called them on it.
Shit.
Paul’s eyes met hers. “Your grandmother didn’t have anything of value. Not to mention, we’ve been helpin’ out with her expenses at the nursin’ home.”
Cheyenne’s hands balled into fists. “I’ve been takin’ care of Grams,” she said through clenched teeth. “Me. Only me!”
“It costs money for us to go visit her,” Frankie added, as though that actually made a bit of fucking sense.
“Oh, Lord.” Cheyenne turned to look at Brendon before walking right out of the kitchen and onto the back porch. Scrap followed close behind her, clearly needing some fresh air as well.
She damn sure didn’t blame the dog for wanting to get the hell out of there. She was ready to bolt, too.
WITHIN THIRTY SECONDS of meeting Cheyenne’s parents, Brendon had gone on the defensive. He’d even known what to expect and he’d had a hard time dealing with them. Now as the two of them stared around the kitchen as though they were trying to identify what wasn’t bolted down and how long it would take to get it to their car, Brendon wanted nothing more than to show them the door.
But these were Cheyenne’s parents. He could tell she didn’t have much of a relationship with them, but that didn’t give him the right to interfere. Clearly, Cheyenne had managed to deal with them all these years and still become the phenomenal woman that she was, so she had to be doing something right.
“We heard there was someone stalkin’ her,” Paul said, his eyes assessing Brendon carefully. “Care to tell us what’s goin’ on?”
“Where’d you hear that?” Brendon asked, pretending not to know what he was talking about. He knew for a fact that the information hadn’t been leaked to the media. Not yet anyway. He figured any time now word would get out, it always did, but they’d managed to keep a handle on who knew up to this point.
“We … uh …” Paul glanced over at Frankie then turned back to Brendon. “On the news, I think.”