Either way, he was trying to figure out whether that mattered as he made his way back to the living room. She was there. That was the important thing, right?
“Shouldn’t you be on tour?” he asked, keeping his tone devoid of accusation.
“Quick break,” she said in that soft Texas drawl that he loved.
No, he didn’t fucking love it. It was nice. That’s all.
Good fucking grief.
“So you thought you’d head this way for your break?”
“Travis called me.”
Those three words had a spike of anger lancing his insides, but Brendon bit his tongue to keep from saying something he shouldn’t. He had no idea what it was about this woman or why he had to be a jackass whenever she was around, but he couldn’t help himself.
“And what? You thought you’d come pay the poor fucked-up guy a visit?” he asked, mentally slapping himself for letting the words past his lips. “Ignore me, Cheyenne. You really shouldn’t have come,” he told her, walking back toward the door.
He was fully prepared to let her out when Braydon came through the front door, nearly knocking Brendon over.
“Hey,” Braydon said as he came to an abrupt halt just inside the door. He glanced at Brendon, then slid his gaze over to Cheyenne, who was looking at Brendon as though he’d lost his mind.
He had. She should know that by now.
“Hey, Braydon,” Cheyenne responded in kind. “How are you?”
“Good,” Braydon offered, glancing back and forth between Brendon and Cheyenne like he’d never seen two people in the same room together before.
“She just stopped by,” Brendon said automatically, somewhat defensively. “Travis asked her to stop by,” he went on to clarify, “to make sure I wasn’t doing anything stupid, I’m sure. But she was just about to leave.” Yeah, that heated rage was boiling in his gut once again and Brendon couldn’t seem to douse it no matter how hard he tried.
“I wasn’t leaving,” Cheyenne told Braydon, not bothering to look at Brendon. “I just stopped by to talk.”
“About?” Brendon asked as Braydon continued to watch them with interest.
“To see how you’re doing,” she said simply.
“I’m great. That all? Here, I’ll show you the door.”
“Stop being a dick,” Braydon muttered beneath his breath.
“Fuck off,” Brendon retorted.
“How’s the tour going?” Braydon asked in that friendly way that he used on women about the time Brendon was going to make an ass out of himself. Brendon watched as his twin made his way over to the chair opposite where Cheyenne was now sitting.
Great. Now his brother was going to stay, which meant there was zero chance that Brendon could get Cheyenne out of his house before he caused any more of a rift between them. As it was, he was surprised she wanted anything to do with him; he didn’t give a shit how sorry Travis managed to make her feel for him.
“Good. So far. A little hectic, to be honest. I only thought I had some excited fans. You should see the women who go crazy for Dalton and Cooper,” Cheyenne said with a chuckle.
Brendon watched the interaction between Braydon and Cheyenne. It seemed easy, like they were old friends just hanging out and chatting. Why the hell couldn’t it be that easy for him?
“How’s Jessie?” Cheyenne asked Braydon.
“She’s doing good. Really good, actually.”
“Did she mention that I’ve hired Kylie to restore my old house?”
“No, she didn’t. Your house in Nashville?” Braydon inquired.
“No,” Cheyenne said, glancing over her shoulder to look at Brendon before turning her attention back to Braydon. “I bought a house here.”
Brendon was surprised he was still standing. The room seemed to be spinning, yet he had no idea why.
“Here? As in Coyote Ridge?” Braydon asked.
“Yeah. It’s an old Victorian, and although it’s a horrendous shade of blue, I think it’ll make an amazing house once she’s done.”
“Holy fuck,” Brendon muttered, his hand on the wall. He hoped like hell he didn’t look as bad as he felt.
“You bought the blue house on Jackson Road?” Braydon asked suspiciously.
“I did,” she answered tentatively.
Brendon had no choice but to sit down. It was that or fall over. He knew if one of them asked him a question, he wouldn’t be able to answer, so he calmly lowered himself onto the couch beside Cheyenne. He made sure there was a good distance between them, but that was the closest place and he suddenly felt as though his legs were made of spaghetti.