Page 17 of Naughty by Nature

With a tip of his imaginary hat he left her to unpack.

Cheyenne sank down to the mattress and looked out at the afternoon sunlight. When she’d woken up this morning she certainly hadn’t planned on ending up here, of all places. Sighing, she shook her head and turned for her bag. She’d get herself unpacked then check on the kids.

* * *

Sheridan pausedat the kitchen island and listened to the chatter the girls made down the hallway. It was a little nostalgic. When they’d found this house, Nora had fallen in love. Yes, it had been too big for them at the time, but they’d planned to fill it somehow, someway, even if it meant adoption.

Instead they’d had one precious daughter, and they’d done their best to spoil the girl rotten. Olivia’d had everything she’d needed growing up, plus more.

Which made her current behavior understandable.

When Nora had died, Olivia had been lost, and he’d been just as lost in trying to connect with her. They’d both been dealing with an incredible amount of grief, but also relief. His wife, the mother of his child, was no longer in pain, and he would always be thankful that it hadn’t gone on any longer.

Seemed wrong to think like that…but it was the honest truth. He’d loved Nora too much to want her to suffer one more second than she’d had to endure.

He opened the door to the fridge, wondering what he could rustle up for dinner. He realized then that he should have gone to the store before the invasion. In desperation, he went out to the deep freeze in the garage and started digging. Frozen pizzas, it was.

Letting Beowulf out of his kennel, Sheridan put the German Shepherd on a leash. The dog looked at him like he was crazy, but it had to be done. He refused to let him run through the house like an idiot possibly knocking people down. Sheridan knew there would be a leery ‘what the heck is going on in my house?’ stage, then a longer acceptance period. Beowulf wasn’t a dog to attack unless on patrol or expressly commanded to do so, but he also wasn’t one of the friendliest dogs ever, either.

Juggling the pizza boxes and the dog leash, he let Beowulf pull him into the kitchen, then growled at him to settle down. The dog did, but he quivered with anxiety or excitement.

Cheyenne’s daughter Savannah, the one with glasses, stood in the dining room when he walked in and Beowulf immediately lunged for her. Fumbling the boxed pizzas, Sheridan grabbed at the leash, but the dog was gone. Sheridan dropped the pizzas and lunged after the dog, but he’d already tackled Savannah to the floor. Sheridan expected to hear screaming, but instead, what he heard were the little girl’s giggles as she tried to fight off the dog’s long-tongued kisses.

Sheridan rocked back on his boot heels in shock, heart thundering. Wulf never reacted to anyone this way anymore. He’d been Nora’s dog.

Savannah pushed her glasses up on her nose and wiped off some of the dog spit, but she was smiling as she ruffled the dog’s fur. “I was helping Dr. Gabby last month when you brought him in for shots. He was sad, so I sat with him and talked to him.”

Sheridan blinked, shocked, then he barked out a laugh. “Well, okay, then.”

Carolyn came out next and patted the dog negligently on the head as she passed. Then she spied the boxes on the floor. “Pizza! I’m starving!”

Sheridan leaned down to pick up the boxes and Cheyenne’s oldest daughter helped him. “I can do this if you want to introduce your dog to Daisy. Grace went out to be with her.”

Sheridan glanced up in alarm. He hadn’t even seen her slip outside! Good thing the alarm wasn’t on right this second.

Glancing at Savannah, he waved a hand toward the door. “Maybe if you’re there the intro will go smoother.”

Nodding her head she took Beowulf’s leash in hand and walked him toward the front of the house. Sheridan glowered. That dog was well trained and did what he was supposed to do when, but since Nora had died he’d been a little detached. This was the most excited he’d seen the dog be in years.

Even when they met the exuberant Daisy, the normally standoffish German Shepherd just lifted his head and let her yip, then tentatively sniffed at her. It was more interest than Sheridan had seen him express for another dog in ages.

It sent a ripple of unease through him. The dog had moped after Nora had died and he never even considered letting the animal go to another home. Olivia loved him and he tolerated Sheridan, so he thought that was enough.

Guilt started to consume him though as he looked at the big guard dog romp in play at the smaller Australian Cattle dog. It was beyond obvious they were going to get along.

He heard the front door open and he looked up to see Cheyenne stepping out onto the porch, arms crossed. For a moment, the world slipped into a time warp and he imagined a shorter, curvier woman with dark hair stepping onto the porch. No, that had been many, many years ago.

His heart ached as he looked at Cheyenne. If he wasn’t careful, things were going to get very dangerous. For him.

“Are they getting along?” she asked, bright auburn hair blowing in the breeze as she joined them in the yard.

He nodded. “Surprisingly well. I think we can let them off the leashes. Wulf looks like he wants to play.”

The girls didn’t need any further encouragement. They let the dogs loose and watched them race around the yard. Wulf ran faster than Sheridan had seen him do in a long time.

In no time, the girls were racing after the dogs. Wulf found one of his old tennis balls that Sheridan hadn’t yet mowed over and started tossing it into the air, waiting for them to grab it. Grace dove for the ball and ended up tripping on her own feet and sprawling in the grass. Cheyenne giggled beside him and he looked over at her.

Damn, she was beautiful. No, that was too weak of a word. Stunning. Just absolutely stunning. Her blue eyes were deep and so clear he could see the striations of darker blue through the iris. Her skin was flawless, without any kind of blemish and he wondered how she stayed so fair in the Texas sun. Most redheads he knew had freckles, but Cheyenne and the girls did not. Grace had a few light freckles, he’d noticed, but they balanced out the mischief in her eyes. Those freckles needed to be there because they suited her.

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