Free Protecting Cheyenne (SEAL of Protection Book 5) by Susan Stoker Page B

bedside. And the one time Dude had actually touched Cheyenne, she’d groaned and rolled toward him, not away from him. It had been harder than Dude had thought to leave her room after that.
    Now here he was, bossing Cheyenne around and generally pushing himself on her. Dude knew he should leave and give her some room, but he honestly didn’t want to.
    “What were your plans for the day, Shy?”
    Cheyenne looked over at Faulkner as he ate. She pushed her plate away and leaned on her elbows. “I hadn’t really thought much about it. I usually just hang out on my days off.”
    “Hell, I didn’t even ask what you do for a living. I’m sorry.”
    Cheyenne shrugged. “It’s okay. It’s not like we’ve really had a chance to chat about our lives. Besides, it’s not that interesting really. I answer the phone when people call 911.”
    Dude lowered the forkful of omelet he’d been about to put in his mouth and looked at Cheyenne incredulously. “What?”
    Feeling nervous and not knowing why Faulkner was being weird, Cheyenne repeated, “I’m a 911 operator.”
    “So you help save people’s lives when they’re in desperate need of someone to help them.”
    It wasn’t a question, but Cheyenne treated it as if it was. “Well, I guess, yeah, but it’s actually boring a lot of the time and we get a lot of calls that aren’t emergencies we have to deal with.”
    “Don’t downplay it, Shy,” Dude scolded. “You help people through some of the worst times in their lives. You’re there for them when they reach out. That’s amazing.”
    Feeling uncomfortable with his praise, Cheyenne just shrugged.
    Dude tilted his head and looked closer at her. He’d been amazed at her occupation. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t imagine her doing it. She’d stayed calm the day before in the face of her own mortality, and now he knew why. She had a lot of practice dealing with her emotions in extreme situations. “How do you deal with the stress of the job?”
    “What?” Cheyenne was startled by Faulkner’s question.
    “I said, how do you deal with the stress of your job?”
    “Uh, I read? I hang out here at home?”
    Faulkner looked at her closely. Cheyenne hadn’t answered his question, she’d pretty much answered in the form of a question. “You don’t deal with it, do you?”
    “It’s not a big deal.”
    “It is a big deal, Shy. Hell, even me and my buddies know we have to let off steam after a mission. You have to let it go somehow.”
    “I know you work with explosives, but what do you do, Faulkner?” Cheyenne asked defensively. She wanted to get the attention off of her and since he brought it up, she’d go with it.
    “I’m a SEAL.”
    Cheyenne looked at him in horror. Oh fucking hell.
    “No, just no, this isn’t right.”
    Dude put his plate away from himself and leaned into Cheyenne. He didn’t like her tone of voice. “What do you mean it isn’t right? What I feel about you is as right as I’ve felt in a long time, Shy.”
    “I mean, you really are a hero. What the hell are you doing here?”
    Dude stood up and crowded Cheyenne until she leaned back against the bar counter. He put his hands on the counter behind her so he was hovering over her and she couldn’t possibly ignore him and what he wanted to say.
    “As far as I’m concerned, you’re the hero, Shy.” Dude ignored Cheyenne as she shook her head in denial and continued. “You help people every day. Every damn day. You’re their lifeline when they need it. They reach out and you’re there.”
    “But I don’t save them. Most of the time they’re already dead or dying, or at least someone they know is.”
    “Shy, Jesus.” Dude watched as Cheyenne began to shake.
    “No really, most of the time I have no idea what happened, what the outcome is, but I watch the news. Sometimes I see. All I do is call the cops and the paramedics, Faulkner. I call people like you to come and do the real saving.”
    Dude felt sick inside. He didn’t