Last Chance Rebel (11 page)

It occurred to her then that if Gage was going to be here, if he was going to be in her business, well, then he owed her this. He really did. Whether it was pity or not. It shouldn't matter to her. The only thing that mattered was getting what she wanted. What she needed.

So, he needed to feel like he was giving her something, like he was taking steps toward atoning for his sins, whatever. She needed to put the monster to bed. She needed to start untangling the ways in which this had affected her life.

This seemed like a pretty good start.

“It's fine, Finn,” she said. “I don't need you to punch anyone out today.”

She couldn't tell if the look on his face was brought about by skepticism, or by the fact that she was rejecting him. “Give me a call if you need anything,” he said, backing away from her and Gage.

“He's not your boyfriend, is he?” Gage asked.

“If he were my boyfriend and that's all he did to keep me from leaving with another man, I would break up with him. Let's go.”

She stalked through the bar, doing her best to avoid looking at anyone. By tomorrow, she was going to be the subject of gossip, she just knew it. It was unavoidable. She had burst into the bar wearing an outfit that was advertising her intentions, then danced all up on Finn Donnelly, before leaving with another man.

Oh well. At least she was making a scandal, and the whispers behind their hands wouldn't just be about how poor and sad she was. About how beautiful she would be if she weren't damaged. About how tragic it was that her mother had left her. And how very brave she was to persevere in the face of it. Yeah, she would rather be the subject of this kind of gossip. At least it was interesting.

The night air bit into her skin, the cold coastal mist that settled over her face, sinking right in and chilling her down to her bones. But, she wasn't cold for long.

Gage grabbed hold of her, hauling her into his arms and kissing her, deep and long. She lost herself in it, in him. And she let her mind go blank. Of everything. Let herself forget that any time had passed between the moment he had held her at his house, that first moment his lips had touched hers, and this moment.

She wanted to forget all about Finn. Wanted to forget about what she had almost done. That she had even for one moment entertained the idea of being with another man when Gage was the one who she wanted. It didn't make sense. None of it did. And maybe it was all anger. Anger getting bound up in this hang-up that she had that was so big it was impossible to ignore. Really, it was impossible to separate them from each other.

Because what she hadn't done, and what she had done, were largely dictated by the accident. And so, it was tied up in him.

Her body rebelled at that idea, forcing the thoughts out of her mind. And yeah, maybe it was best she didn't think of it. Maybe it was best that she just pretended that she wanted him. That he was a stranger. And she was just a woman who needed a man very badly. Maybe that was the key. The way to cling to the tiniest sliver of sanity she could find.

If there was any sanity to be found in this.

She shivered, feeling hot all over by the time he released her. “You drunk?” he asked.

“Why?” She answered his question with a question mostly because she couldn't really remember if she was drunk or not. She felt sluggish, a little bit dizzy. But it had nothing to do with the single sip of beer she'd had, and everything to do with the kiss that she'd shared with Gage just now.

“First of all, if you're drunk, you're not driving. Second of all, if you're drunk, we're not doing this. Well, depending on how drunk.”

“I'm not drunk,” she said.

“Then get in my truck.”

CHAPTER TEN

I
F
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AGE
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weren't already reserved in hell, he might be more concerned for his eternal soul. But the fact of the matter was, he was going to burn already. He might as well burn for this.

“I'm not drunk. I can drive.” Rebecca didn't seem quite as intense as she often did. At least, not quite as ready to engage him in battle.

“I'm going to drive you. Your truck will be fine here for the night.”

“Except that everybody's going to know that I left it here. And everybody is going to assume that I went home with someone.”

“Is that such a bad thing?”

He watched her face, studied the nuance of her expression. “I guess not.”

He wanted her—that was true. He had wanted her ever since he'd first backed her up against the wall in her shop. It wasn't right. It wasn't simple. But she was beautiful, and it had been a good while since he'd been with a woman.

Yeah, it was pretty terrible behavior to get involved with the woman he had already made so many terrible mistakes with. But she wanted it. She wanted him. As little sense as that made, it was clear. Made even more clear by the fact that she had gone straight to Ace's bar, as he had suspected she might, to go and pick up someone else.

That was all frustrated longing and anger at being turned down. And he recognized it, because he had been considering doing the same thing. But, he had also been pretty sure that he was going to find her there. And he'd been right.

So, it had worked out better than he'd imagined. Worst case scenario, he'd figured he could get some random woman to go to bed with him. But, that wasn't what he wanted. He wanted Rebecca.

He let that play over in his mind again, slowly, as he watched her climb up inside his pickup truck. He wanted Rebecca Bear.

There was nothing honorable in that. He couldn't even pretend. It was easy to tell himself that he was doing something that she wanted, that it was all a part of his attempt to make things right. But what he felt for her in this moment was completely separate from their history.

This was just about him, about her. About her being a woman he wanted with a particular kind of fire. Strange, because he wasn't usually one for difficult hookups. He didn't do relationships—he tended to gravitate toward women with empty heads and full bras who just wanted what he did. A little bit of mindless sex, an easy orgasm. That was all he was good for.

Rebecca wasn't that. She never could be. She was challenging, she was angry and she wasn't after his body simply because she thought he was hot. There was something else happening here, and he knew it. But he also didn't want to press.

He had too much on his plate as it was. But this was the kind of distraction that he needed. Actually, fighting with Rebecca in general was a welcome distraction. Otherwise, all he was left with was his family. Family that had become a group of strangers.

Yeah, he'd rather fight with Rebecca any day of the week.

He let out a long sigh as she closed the door, then he got into the truck, starting up the engine and putting it in Reverse.

Rebecca was quiet as they drove onto the highway, quiet as they continued on down the road.

He didn't like this. This pause before the action. It gave him too much time to think. He was afraid it might be giving her too much time to think. He should want her to change her mind, to turn back. Because he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this wasn't going to end well. Still, he was looking forward to the getting there.

He was that simple. Apparently.

It was a bit of a drive from town up to the lake and the silence began to expand until it was bigger than the cab of the truck. Talking to Rebecca would be a mistake, though. It inevitably was. They didn't have much of anything to say to each other that didn't end in a fight. He was much more fond of the way they interacted physically than the way they interacted verbally.

“What changed your mind?” It was Rebecca who broke the silence.

“My dick.” He gritted his teeth, tightening his hold on the steering wheel. If that put her off because it was crass, it was probably for the best.

“I'm not sure if I should be flattered by that or not.”

“Not,” he said. “In fact, you should probably let that offend you real good. You should probably go ahead and run the other way.”

“There you go getting cold feet again,” she said, shaking her head. She planted her boot-clad foot up on the dash of the truck and his body turned to granite.

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. She was bathed in the pale moonlight shining through the windshield, casting her skin in an otherworldly glow. He could see a tempting expanse of side, revealed from where her boot ended just at her knee, and ending at the short hem of her dress, which had ridden up thanks to the position she was sitting in.

“Me? I don't have cold feet. Honey, I've had more hookups than I can count. In fact, I purposely stopped counting at a certain point because I gotta say, it's not something I'm particularly proud of. This is just one more. But, I am giving you a chance to back out.”

She was silent for a moment, and he snuck another glance, took in the mutinous set of her jaw. “Thanks for letting me know,” she said, her tone casual. “I'll make sure I don't fall in love with you.”

“I don't think there's any danger of you falling in love with me, but you might get addicted to me.”

She laughed. “Wow, that's quite an ego you have there.”

“My ego isn't the most impressive thing I've got, honey. That may be a problem for you.” He hated himself right now. Hated the cocky, stupid words coming out of his mouth. He was trying to put her off, even while he hoped that she wouldn't ask to be taken home.

He couldn't do a damn thing he set his mind to. Not when it came to making decisions that were better for other people, rather than for himself. He had made it a point to do one thing. To stay away from Rebecca. To try and fix some of her circumstances rather than breaking her down even more.

He held his jaw so tight it hurt. Yeah, he was doing a stellar job.

“Don't worry about my feelings,” she said. “Just this once, okay?”

She sounded so much softer than he'd ever heard her sound, and he wasn't sure he liked it. It was easier when she fought him. Easier when she threw herself against him and he could just kind of take it. Take all that anger and let her pour it into him. He was comfortable with that. Part of him even liked it. This... This meant he had to maybe do something. Reach out, comfort her.

He didn't know how to do that. He could be her punching bag forever and a day. But anything else? Yeah, that was a little bit beyond him.

But, she wasn't asking for anything much. He might not be able to offer comfort, but he could make her come. He figured that was good enough.

Actually, maybe he was the one being stupid thinking of sex as something that would damage her. Clearly, she had no issue going out and getting it if she wanted it. She was a strong woman. Who knew what she wanted? Maybe it would be best for both of them. Break a little bit of tension.

Because God knew there was tension.

“I won't worry about it,” he said.

He turned the truck off the main highway and onto the narrower, windier road that led up to his place.

He pulled into the driveway, his body filled with tension as he turned the engine off and turned to face Rebecca. She was staring straight ahead, through the windshield still, her posture stiff.

“Rebecca,” he said, “are you having second thoughts?”

He hated himself for asking that question, mostly because he was afraid that she would say that she was having second thoughts and she wanted to go home instead of to his bed. But, this was the last time he was going to ask. After this, he wasn't going to be able to stop. If he touched her again, it was over. That meant he had to take this moment, this pause, to make absolutely certain.

She didn't say anything. Instead, she reached across the space between them and wrapped her arms around his neck, launching herself at him as she claimed his lips with her own. He grabbed hold of the back of her head, lacing his fingers through her hair and holding her tight as he staked his claim on her mouth. He tasted her, deep and long, and he let himself forget everything except how much he wanted her. Let his body drain completely of all the tension that he'd been carrying inside from the moment he'd come back to town.

There was no room for it. He was too filled with her. With how much he wanted her. How much he needed her. Ironic, that it was Rebecca who was finally making him feel at home. Like something other than a puzzle piece shoved into the wrong puzzle, trying to fit when he belonged anywhere else.

Rebecca tasted like home. Like the ocean and the pine trees, like regret and a raw, aching need that he knew would never go away no matter how many places he went to, no matter how long he stayed. He would always miss Copper Ridge as it was when he was younger. As it could be in a memory only, or in a strange moment that seemed to stand outside of time. A heartbeat that existed outside her body, when things still seemed simple and beautiful.

Before everything had been ruined by reality. Before he had ruined it for himself. For himself, for his family, for Rebecca.

This was like a little slice of that feeling. That feeling that had been lost to him for so many years. The sun filtering through the trees, a glimmer on the waves and a sense of endless possibility that had long since been drained out of him.

He growled, changing the momentum of the kiss, pressing her against the passenger door of the truck. He stripped his jacket off, flinging it to the side, wrapping his arms around her and pressing her breasts firmly against his chest as he settled between her thighs. The gearshift dug into his ribs, but he didn't care. He kept on kissing her. She slipped her hands up around his neck, then let her fingertips drift to his face, holding him steady as she returned his kiss with all the ferocity that he poured out into her.

He slid one hand down her back, all the way down to the curve of her ass, urging her to press herself against him, to arch the cradle of her thighs against his cock. He growled, swearing into her mouth as that gentle pressure of her body on him sent a lightning bolt of sensation straight through him.

He shoved his other hand up underneath her dress, his fingertips skimming over soft skin, resting his palm on her hip, teasing her by pushing one finger, then another, beneath the elastic waistband of her panties.

She gasped, wrenching her mouth away from his. “Inside?”

“Maybe in a minute,” he said, kissing her again, sliding his tongue against hers and groaning at the slick friction.

“Please?”

He looked down at her, trying to catch his breath, trying to get a hold of his racing heart. He was tempted to tell her he didn't have a second to waste. That he had a condom in his wallet and he needed to use it now.

“Sure,” he said, his voice a rasp of need.

He released his hold on her, pressing his hands against the bench seat of the truck and pushing himself up. He was shaking. Dammit, he couldn't remember the last time that had happened. Probably not since he was a sixteen-year-old virgin making out in his truck for the first time.

He opened up the driver side, getting out on unsteady legs before making his way around to the passenger side. He opened the door slowly, and Rebecca tilted partway out, still lying down in the seat, looking up at him from her strange position.

In spite of himself, he laughed. “Are you coming?”

“Oh, I hope so,” she said, rolling to the side, ending up on her knees on the floorboard of the truck, before sliding out onto the ground.

He reached down, grabbing hold of her hand and tugging her up, then against him. He kissed her nose, and she giggled. Which was basically the last sound he had ever expected to come out of her. “You're sure you're not drunk?”

“Just... I'm so turned on. We have to go inside.”

A rush of air escaped his body, and he swept her up into his arms, grabbing her like he was a villain in an old movie, which he basically was. Then, he strode across the driveway, up the steps and into the house.

He continued on through the living area, and up the stairs, heading straight to his bedroom. He set her down, right in front of the bed, and when he looked at her face, her eyes were huge, glittering.

“Full-service,” he said, leaning forward, kissing her lightly on the lips, then again on the chin, and down her neck. “I aim to please.”

“I—I...” She seemed completely incapable of speech. Which was fine with him. If she could still talk, he wasn't doing his job. He didn't want conversation. Not now.

“Quiet,” he said, biting her lower lip. She complied. Then, he returned to the business of making love to her mouth, taking her deeper and deeper with each pass of his lips over hers.

He continued to kiss her until she went limp, pliant. He imagined this was as docile as Rebecca Bear got.

“Turn the...” She let out a long breath. “Turn the lights off?”

Her words were like a punch to the gut. Because, whatever her reasons were for turning the lights off, it reminded him of her scars. And it reminded him of the fact that when he saw her naked, he would be confronted with the full extent of her injuries. Injuries he had caused. He felt like he was a bastard complying, but he did anyway. Mostly because he wasn't sure he wanted to confront all that right now. He wasn't sure he ever did.

That made him an ass. Or, maybe he did it because he was an ass. Because it was easier to shroud them both in darkness and pretend there was nothing hard or impossible between them.

Her scars would spoil the illusion, not because they would turn him off. That wasn't the problem. They would spoil the illusion that they were just a man and a woman looking for a way to pass the time. Looking for a way to blow off a little steam. Her scars carried all their history. Those years that they'd spent never talking to each other, never seeing each other and yet living with each other. Her every step weighted down by him, no matter that he had never spent a minute in her company.