"Presley."

"No. Why?"

"I thought she might be coming over."

"Haven't talked to her."

The fight on TV ended with a knockout. That might've been exciting except it happened far too soon to satisfy the eager crowd who'd gathered in the living room.

"That sucks," Mack complained.

Rod snapped off the TV. "I don't care if Nero's had a dozen knockouts. He's a pussy. I can't believe he went down so easy. He had the guy in an arm bar, for hell's sake, and allowed him to escape."

"That fight was all hype," Grady agreed.

Aaron unfolded his long body and rose to his feet. "Forget the fight. The night's young. Let's go over to Sexy Sadie's and see what we can find."

"You *find' a fight, I'm not coming to save your asses," Dylan said.

Mack turned toward him. "You staying here?"

Dylan nodded as he petted Kikosan, who'd stuck her snout into his lap. "You're on your own tonight," he said, but at twenty-one, Mack was the baby of the family, more like a son than a brother. If he got into trouble, Dylan would go through hell or high water to get him out and everyone knew it. As far as that went, he felt just as strongly about the others, even Aaron, who'd caused him so much grief. "Keep a level head."

Grady nudged his foot. "Come with us, Dyl."

"Naw, I'm beat," he said, but as soon as they were gone, he found the energy to go outside and walk with the dogs to the edge of the clearing, where he could see Cheyenne's house. He wanted to catch a glimpse of her driveway, see if her Oldsmobile was there, but it wasn't.

13.

It wasn't quite eleven when Cheyenne started home. She'd spent the evening with Sophia, watching a movie, talking, eating-doing whatever she could to distract herself from thoughts of Joe or Dylan. She got the impression that Sophia was as lonely as she was. At least, she'd welcomed the company. Cheyenne wished she could rely on having Sophia for companionship over the rest of the holidays, but she and her daughter were flying to Hawaii in the morning to meet Skip, who was having his parents join them on Oahu.

"Must be nice." She imagined warm, sunny beaches as she turned toward the river bottoms. But she wasn't truly jealous. After several hours in Sophia's presence she felt more like herself than she had in days, which was why she felt so surprised when she drove past her own driveway.

A half mile farther down the road was Dylan's place, a brick house with a big yard, two dogs that must be in the house because they weren't out and several old oak trees draped with the mistletoe that grew naturally in their branches. His lot sloped down to meet the river behind it and included several outbuildings-a shed, a chicken coop, a workshop and a barn. She'd never seen the barn for herself, but she'd heard Presley talk about the gym they'd set up in there.

Cheyenne knew she'd have to deal with Joe at some point. He was the brother of one of her best friends and circulated among the same people she did. It was rude-beyond rude-to ignore his calls. She'd already decided she'd speak to him in the morning, assure him she wasn't upset and politely decline his offer to go out.

But Dylan was a different story. There were no expectations between them. She could return to her regular life and forget him. He'd given her that option when he left without finishing their conversation. She doubted he'd ever contact her again.

If only she didn't feel so terrible about the way she'd brushed him off...

Frustrated by her vigilant conscience, which wouldn't let her rest until she'd apologized, she parked on the road in front of his place.

The house was dark. At first she thought she'd come too late, everyone was asleep. Dylan's Jeep sat in the garage with his motorcycle parked beside it. She could see both vehicles because the garage door was up. When they were home, they rarely bothered to close it, probably because they came and went so often. But then she noticed that Grady's SUV was gone and guessed that some, if not all, of the Amoses were out.

What should she do? Forget about seeking any kind of resolution and go home?

No doubt, but she preferred to get this behind her. So she called Dylan's cell to ask if he'd stop by on his way past her place, or maybe talk to her on the phone.

"Hello?" He sounded groggy when he answered, which told her he hadn't gone out with his brothers. She'd awakened him.

"It's me."

He took a breath she could hear. "That's the only reason I answered."

"I thought you were mad at me."

"That doesn't mean I haven't been hoping you'd call."

His deep voice brought back every sensation she'd experienced when he was in her bed.

"I'm, um..." She fought the sexual awareness flowing through her, along with the intimate memories. She didn't want to cause herself more problems. "I shouldn't have called so late. Would you rather we talked tomorrow?"

There was a brief pause. "That depends."

"On what?" she asked, but she already knew the answer. She could tell by his tone.

"On whether or not you really just want to talk."

She told herself to apologize and be done with it. She should not accept the invitation in his voice. But the words stuck in her throat. Desire had come out of nowhere and easily overtaken remorse. "I'm sitting in front of your house."

"Does that mean what I think it does?"

Leaning her head against the headrest, she closed her eyes. "Yes."

"I'll meet you at the door," he said, and hung up.

He was waiting for her when she reached the stoop. Wearing nothing but a hastily donned pair of jeans that were neither zipped nor buttoned, he held back the dogs so she could come in, and she realized in an instant that she found him even more attractive tonight than she had before.

How had she missed his appeal? His face was so much more intriguing than other men's, so rugged....

"I told myself I was coming to apologize about last night," she whispered as she slipped past the dogs.

"But..."

"I could've done that earlier, on the phone. I didn't need to come traipsing over here after eleven."

He shut the door. "This isn't about the *I'm sorry' part of last night."

"What's it about?" She really wanted to know. She'd never imagined she'd be having an affair with Dylan Amos. That was her sister's territory. Or so she'd thought.

"The other part," he said. "This way."

He turned, but she didn't follow. She remained in his front entryway, with his dogs. "I don't want to use you, Dylan. I'm not that kind of person. I can't understand why, after so many years, I'm suddenly making these choices. But..."

"What?"

"Touching you again, having you touch me..." She met his dark eyes and lowered her voice. "It's all I can think about."

"Then it's fortunate for you that I'm having the same problem." He held out his hand.

This time she didn't hesitate to take it. She was cold after being outside. And she knew, from experience, how warm his body would be.

"What about your brothers?" She glanced apprehensively toward the darker reaches of the house.

"They're gone," he said, and forced his dogs to stay outside his bedroom as they went inside.

Dylan's room smelled slightly of cigarettes, but the scent of his cologne and his...shampoo?...was much stronger.

She wanted to take a minute to look around, to see what Dylan was like in his own space, but he didn't give her a chance. He didn't even turn on the light before pulling her into bed with him.

"Can a person become an addiction?" she whispered as he stripped off her clothes.

"You think you're already addicted to me?" Once they were both naked, he urged her onto her back and threaded their fingers together as he kissed her.

"It feels that way. I couldn't wait to see you again. I've just been passing time all day."

He smiled as his mouth moved lower. "Sex is new for you. Once you find out that any man can give you what you want, the spell will be broken."

She wasn't so sure. But she didn't argue. His mouth had found her breast and his fingers were sliding down. Once they reached their intended target, she couldn't even think, let alone talk.

A weak winter sun struggled to breach the cracks in the blinds as Cheyenne opened her eyes. She rolled over, confused and unable to remember where she was. Then the memories of Dylan and what they'd done last night came pouring back.

She was still in his bed!

Sitting up so fast her head swam, she blinked away the last vestiges of sleep and turned to see if he was wrapped up in the bedding beside her.

He wasn't. Still, she wasn't alone in the house. She could hear the tramp of footsteps, as well as male voices, in what would probably be the hall and kitchen areas.

Pulling the bedding up to her chin, she waited to see if he'd return. She was naked and felt vulnerable because of it, but she didn't want to get up. She was afraid he'd open the door at the wrong moment and one of his brothers would be standing beyond him. Not only that, but somehow, letting him see her in the light of day felt different than in the dark of night.

Was he with his brothers, getting breakfast?

There was a towel draped over the knob of the bathroom door. It hadn't been there before-she would've noticed when she used the bathroom during the night-and dampness in the air told her someone had recently showered. She guessed Dylan was dressed and ready for the day....

Catching a glimpse of herself-eyes wide, face white, hair tangled-she shook her head. She'd made her first mistake worse by coming back for more. And then she'd spent the night with him, which compounded the problem.

She would've left hours ago, but she'd been far too comfortable tucked up against Dylan. She'd kept thinking, "I'll go in a minute," but the next thing she knew, it was morning.

"You're screwing up," she told herself. She was eager to drag on her clothes and rush out, but she wanted to run into Dylan's brothers even less than she wanted to run into him. Mack, Aaron and the others had to be wondering why her car was sitting in front of their house.

Actually, by now they'd probably guessed.

Burning with embarrassment, she leaned over and grabbed her purse from the nightstand so she could check her phone. It was eight-thirty. But the time wasn't all that caught her eye. Between four and six, she'd received numerous calls and text messages from Presley. Her sister had worried when she didn't come home.

Too bad she'd had her phone on vibrate. Otherwise, it might've gotten her up and out of bed.

She almost called Presley back, then decided to wait. Maybe she could tell her sister she'd stayed at Sophia's, but not if Aaron ratted her out.

Deciding she had to make a move, she relinquished the blankets and hopped out of bed to search for her panties. But they weren't on the floor with the rest of her clothes. She found them tacked to the corkboard above Dylan's desk, along with a note.

She was slightly mortified at the sight but had to chuckle at his sense of humor.

Have to work. Help yourself to anything you want.

D.

His voice wasn't among those she could hear in the kitchen. Had he already left the house? If so, she wished his brothers had gone with him. It sounded like they were getting ready, but she hated feeling like a prisoner in Dylan's bedroom.

She dressed, then paced while she waited, careful not to make noise. When her phone went off, she would've pressed Ignore. She didn't want to speak for fear of drawing attention, but caller ID indicated it was Dylan.

"Hello?" she whispered, huddling in the corner with her face turned away from the door.

"You awake?"

"I am now." The pique in her voice revealed that she wasn't particularly pleased to have slept so late, which elicted a laugh from Dylan.

"You were dead to the world. I hated to disturb you."

"You should've told me you were leaving!"

"We've been up late the past two nights. I felt you could use the sleep."

She lowered her voice even further. "Your brothers are still here."

"Don't worry, they'll be joining me at the shop soon. Then you can duck out."

"I'm sure they've already seen my car, but it would still be embarrassing to run into them as I tiptoe out of your bedroom."

"Actually, they haven't seen your car," he said.

"Excuse me?"

"That's why I'm calling. I wanted to tell you that I moved it behind the barn."