Brendon Read Online Free PDF

off, piling her hair on top of her head and wrapping it with another dry towel. As she passed the small, foggy mirror above the ancient sink, she was grateful she couldn’t see her appearance. She felt like shit and she’d already seen how pitiful she looked. A little water and soap hadn’t helped that much, no matter how much she wished it had.
    Cheyenne pulled on her bra and panties, then slipped into a tank top and shorts before venturing downstairs. She was halfway down when she stopped suddenly, nearly tumbling the rest of the way as her brain registered the sinfully sexy man asleep on the small love seat she’d put in the living room so that she could have something to sit on until she bought furniture.
    Having never owned a house before, Cheyenne didn’t have any furniture. What she’d had prior to the official move had been . . . well, it had been destroyed, to put it simply. And since she’d only been in Coyote Ridge for a few days and because her house was still being remodeled, she hadn’t taken the time to purchase anything. But seriously . . . how in the world had he managed to cram himself on that tiny couch?
    Realizing she still had the towel on her head, she briefly considered running back upstairs and doing something to make herself presentable. Before she could get her feet to respond to the command, intense blue-gray eyes popped open and pinned her in place from across the room.
    “Mornin’,” Brendon said gruffly.
    “Mornin’,” she replied. “I . . . uh . . . I didn’t know you were still here.”
    “I was on my way out,” he said quickly, practically jumping to his feet.
    Cheyenne giggled when he stumbled before grabbing the back of the sofa to keep from going headfirst into the wood floor. She couldn’t help finding humor in the blunder, although her amusement came with a price: a sharp, blinding pain ricocheted behind her eyes.
    Of all the men in all the world, Cheyenne had found herself attracted to the one who wanted nothing to do with her. And when he was around her, he looked . . . well, kind of similar to the way she’d looked when she saw herself in the mirror a short time ago, recoiling with revulsion.
    It wasn’t pretty.
    Remembering that image, Cheyenne snatched the towel from her head, then attempted to finger comb the long, wet strands as they tumbled over her shoulders.
    Brendon smiled, and once again she was mesmerized by how that tiny movement of his facial muscles transformed him from good-looking to downright beautiful.
    “I was just gonna make some coffee,” she told him, still raking her fingers through her damp hair.
    “I’ll start it if you want to go back up and brush your hair.”
    Cheyenne nodded. Apparently she did look as bad as she thought if he was encouraging her to go upstairs and fix herself. But she wasn’t going to argue.

    SURELY HE HAD not just told her to go upstairs and brush her hair, sounding as though she needed to.
    That couldn’t have been him.
    Fucking hell.
    Squeezing his eyes shut as he shook his head in disbelief, Brendon exhaled deeply. He was pathetic.
    Why was it that all his brothers were smooth talkers but when he opened his mouth around this one particular woman, he just sounded like a fucking moron?
    Brendon opened his eyes in time to see Cheyenne bolting back up the stairs, clutching the dark blue towel to her chest as though it was her one and only lifeline. For half a second, he considered going after her. He wanted to tell her she looked so damn pretty just the way she’d been. In fact, she’d looked like she recently crawled out of bed after a night of wild, passionate . . .
    Nope.
    Not fucking going there.
    Forcing his feet to move, Brendon headed to the kitchen to make coffee, as he said he would. At least that way he wouldn’t have to talk to anyone. For a few minutes anyway.
    Those few minutes didn’t last nearly long enough, because as the coffee started to brew, the gurgle and hiss filling the