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“That’s not true,” she told him.
    “Tell me how the other two women were able to sneak past five armed men and get out while you were being strapped to this bomb?” Dude asked her, already figuring he knew the answer, but wanting to see if Cheyenne would come clean.
    Cheyenne was silent.
    “That’s what I thought,” Dude said after a moment. “You volunteered, didn’t you? Then you created some sort of distraction…” He took the time to slowly reach up and brush her darkening eye gently before turning back to the contraption taped to her belly, and finished his sentence, “…that allowed them to escape out the front door.”
    Cheyenne sighed. Faulkner was pretty smart, but Cheyenne hadn’t been able to simply to be led like a lamb to the slaughter to have the bomb taped on. She’d struggled just enough to make sure the men’s attention was all on her, and before the biggest guy had hit her, she’d caught the other women’s eyes and gestured nonverbally toward the door, hoping they’d understand. They did. They’d snuck out as the men were subduing her. A black eye was worth it to Cheyenne.
    “Just like I told you, I don’t have anyone, they do, it was better this way.” Cheyenne looked at the top of Faulkner’s head as he continued to try to get to the bomb. She watched as sweat trickled down the side of his face. He wiped it off with his shoulder and kept working. Cheyenne wished her hands were free so she could wipe the sweat out of his eyes for him, but that was crazy. No, it was creepy, she’d just met the man for goodness sake.
    Cheyenne couldn’t believe this was “Cooper”…the man she’d daydreamed about for weeks and had followed around this very store once. He was just so gorgeous…she certainly hadn’t dreamed this was how he’d be touching her though. The touch of his hand on her face had been short, but it’d sent shivers shooting down her spine nevertheless.
    Cheyenne looked at Faulkner’s mangled hand to distract herself. She meant what she’d told him. She knew he was a hero, and while his hand wasn’t pleasant to look at, Cheyenne also knew what someone looked like made no difference as to the person they were inside. That hand was pure magic as far as she was concerned. If it was going to get this bomb off of her, she didn’t care what it looked like. He was missing half of his middle three fingers on his left hand, but she noticed it didn’t slow him down at all. He was still able to use what was left of his fingers to maneuver around the bomb. She wondered what it would be like to feel his hands on her…
    Dude worked in silence for a bit longer before Cheyenne told him out of the blue, “I know you, you know.”
    That surprised Dude and he took his attention from the bomb for a second and looked up briefly and met Cheyenne’s eyes before dropping his gaze and concentrating on the device again.
    “Really?” he said. “Have we met?” Dude didn’t know if he would remember her or not. She wasn’t exactly looking her best at that moment, but what he saw, he liked.
    Cheyenne nodded and told him, “I guess we haven’t really met , met, I’ve seen you around.”
    Dude nodded, gritting his teeth, he was getting to a tricky part. “Ah, it is a small town,” he told her absently.
    “It was actually here, we were both shopping, we passed each other in an aisle, and you helped me get a can down from the top shelf. I told you I could probably use the bottom shelf to step up and get it myself, but you insisted, for my own safety, that it was your duty to keep me out of danger….” Cheyenne’s voice trailed off and she mentally smacked her forehead in consternation. She hated her tendency to sometimes ramble. “I know you don’t remember, that’s okay, I’m sure it’s just your nature to help people.” They were both silent as Dude worked and merely nodded to acknowledge her words.
                  Dude took a deep breath. It was now or never.