Page 16 of Naughty by Nature

Chapter 6

Sheridan stayedvigilant as they drove to his house. There was a tension in the cab of the vehicle that was hard to ignore. Cheyenne worried at her pretty pink fingernails and he thought they would be bloody by the time they reached their destination. Her eyes darted around, looking for her ex-husband, and he wanted to turn her to him and ease her fears.

Being on alert, though, was probably smart. He glanced at his cell phone, mounted on a fixture on the windshield. No little green light blinked, telling him he had a message to look at. There were people all over town looking for this yahoo, but somehow he’d escaped notice. Surely someone had seen the man?

Sheridan deliberately took a circuitous route to his house, looping around several times in an effort to confuse anybody following him. Cheyenne and the girls didn’t seem to mind, though. When they finally pulled into his driveway, she looked at him in surprise. “I forgot you’d moved out here,” she laughed.

‘Loveland’, as the letters on the fence used to proclaim, had been the subject of speculation for many years. It was a large property surrounded by a tall wrought-iron fence. The house, just barely visible through the stands of trees, used to be bright blue, but Sheridan had painted it something earthy brown, basically camouflaging it. The property had always had a mystique about it, because the previous owner had been so eccentric.

Roger Ferrer had been an artist, supposedly. Sheridan thought he’d merely been eccentric and lonely.

“Let’s leave the dog in the crate out here for a minute. My dog is running around somewhere. Let me grab him and put him in the kennel.”

She nodded and waited with the girls as he disappeared into the house. Within a few minutes he returned and waved them inside.

Cheyenne wasn’t sure what she expected when she walked into Sheridan’s house, but it wasn’t the spacious home she was seeing now. Wide open from the living room to the dining room to the kitchen, it was a beautiful expanse of hardwood floors and beautiful furniture. One wall of the dining room was glass, broken by two sets of French doors. It was a stunning home, decorated in earthy colors with black iron accents. It also seemed incredibly comfortable and comforting.

“My sister-in-law was an interior designer in Houston,” he told her as he hung his hat by the door. “As a gift to us when we moved up here, she completely renovated the house. Made my life easier. The guy that lived here before had terrible taste.”

“It’s beautiful,” she murmured, running her hand over the back of the overstuffed couch. “I’m sure your wife loved it.”

He gave her a sad smile. “She never got to see it, actually.”

Cheyenne’s heart could have broken for the big, solemn man then. No person should have to lose a partner like that.

Cancer was a terrible, terrible disease.

“Olivia?” he called.

There was no answer.

Giving her an apologetic look, Sheridan held a hand out for them to head down a hallway.

“I hope the girls don’t mind sharing.”

“They’ll be fine with it.”

Sheridan led her into a medium sized room with a set of twin beds in it. The beds were made with pretty pink quilts on top. “Oh, this will be perfect for them. They’ll love it.”

Sheridan gave her a smile. “Good! We set this up for my brother’s kids when they come to visit from Indiana. It has a shared bathroom with the guest room next door.”

He led her through a smallish bathroom to another room. This one had a queen-sized bed in it, with a lilac and sage green quilt and white furniture. “This can be your room while you’re here.”

Cheyenne felt a sense of calm come over her. What a beautiful space. “This is wonderful. I can’t tell you how relieved I am that we don’t have to stay in our house right now. I’m not going to lie, seeing those prints rattled me.”

He’d leaned against the bathroom doorjamb and crossed his arms over his heavy chest. Her eyes drifted over the thickly bunched muscles, and suddenly, she couldn’t look away. Sheridan was built like a man that could take care of a woman, no matter what she, or life, threw at him.

But she wasn’t looking for a man like that, she reminded herself.

Clenching her jaw she turned away, hefting her bag to the mattress.

“We can get an air mattress for the third girl,” he told her softly.

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” she told him honestly. “Two of them will end up in bed together anyway.”

And they would. Actually, all three might end up together, because when they weren’t fighting like cats and dogs, they were the best of friends. Savannah liked to read to her sisters at night.

“Well, I’ll let you settle in then. When you’re ready, come out and I’ll introduce you to BeoWulf. And I’ll see if I can find Olivia.”

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