By the time he was drawing back, Cheyenne was ready to climb his body. Based on the mischievous gleam in his eyes, he knew that as well.
“What was that for?” she asked, her words coming out in a harsh whisper.
“Just because,” he replied, a slow grin forming on his lips.
She studied him for a moment and followed with, “I like ‘just because.’ ”
His grin lit up his face, his eyes sparkling, and once again, she found herself mesmerized by how incredibly handsome he was. He didn’t give her much time to admire him though before he was taking her hand and pulling her toward the front door. She had to stop him on the way so she could retrieve her own ball cap and the sunglasses she wore when she went out in public, along with her cell phone. Fixing the cap atop her head and pulling her ponytail through the back hole, she tried not to dwell on the fact that he was still staring at her.
“We’re gonna have to get you a real hat if you’re gonna be wearin’ ’em round these parts,” Brendon informed her after she had locked her front door and followed him across the yard.
Now that it was on her head, Cheyenne tried to remember which hat she’d grabbed from her closet earlier. She had an assortment in various colors—pink, purple, yellow—and all boringly plain. Sporting the hat, although familiar, wasn’t a fashion statement, that much was for sure. No, her reason for wearing ball caps and sunglasses was more to disguise herself than anything else. No matter where she went, someone usually recognized her and as much as she loved her fans, her privacy was pertinent at this point.
“Oh, yeah?” she responded to his statement when he climbed into the driver’s side.
“Yep. We’ll take care of that after we eat.”
“Will we, now?” Cheyenne grinned at the gorgeous man throwing the gearshift in Reverse and glancing over his shoulder as he backed out of her driveway.
Okay, so she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen a man look so freaking sexy while driving a truck, but Brendon did. Oh, he so did.
Cheyenne figured that he would’ve taken her to Mama’s Diner for breakfast, so she was somewhat surprised when he headed out of Coyote Ridge. A few minutes later, they were pulling into an IHOP restaurant in a neighboring town.
“Nice choice,” she told him after they’d both climbed out of the truck and met up at the rear.
“Think so? I figured it’d be less conspicuous than somewhere in town. This way, there’s less of a chance that someone recognizes you.”
“I appreciate that.” And she really did. Going out in public wasn’t her favorite thing to do, but living as a shut-in wasn’t an option either, so there were times she had to deal with the repercussions of being noticed.
Once the waitress had seated them and offered menus, Cheyenne pulled off her sunglasses and replaced them with a pair of fake reading glasses. When she looked up at Brendon, she noticed he was watching her with a big-ass grin on his face.
“Nice touch,” he said, leaning forward so only she could hear him. “I’m thinkin’ I like this look on you.”
Cheyenne knew what she looked like. She had zero makeup on, her hair was pulled into a ponytail that stuck out through the hole in the back of her hat, and she had on a pair of glasses with thick black rims. She didn’t look like herself, but again, that was the point.
“Thanks,” she said. “I’ll have to remember that.”
“Me too,” he mumbled as he studied his menu.
Once the waiter came and went, delivering coffee and taking their order, Cheyenne opted to see what his response would be to the question she’d been curious about earlier.
“So, how is it you got my phone number?” She couldn’t hide the amusement in her tone, nor could she conceal her smile when he appeared sheepish.
“Don’t recall,” he answered simply, but she could tell he was lying by the smirk on his lips.
“Well, if it’s any consolation, I’m kinda glad you got it.”
“Yeah?”
“Of course. If not, how else would I have ended up at this fine establishment having breakfast with you?”
“Or goin’ to get a replacement for that pitiful hat afterward. Don’t forget that part.”
“How could I?”
“I was thinkin’ maybe we could take my mother’s horses out tomorrow, if you want,” Brendon offered, his eyes meeting hers tentatively.
“I’d love that,” she told him. “My cousins have a working dude ranch not too terribly far from here. Half an hour, maybe. Last time I rode was when I stayed with them as a teenager.”