Page 30 of His Loyal Rebel

Chapter 12

Twyla

Twyla put the last pie in the showcase and closed the glass window. The majority of customers coming in tonight leaned toward purchasing apple pie. She'd already stocked the case twice, and she still had two hours left on her shift.

"Welcome back." Amy, the lead waitress, stopped beside her, carrying new price tags. "Did you get away and enjoy your time off?"

"I went camping." She smiled when Amy's brows lifted in surprise. "It was...quiet."

She couldn't tell anywhere where she'd gone or why. But she wasn't lying. She'd answered Amy's question

"It must've helped. You're working your tail off tonight." Amy set the cards on top of the case.

"I want to thank you again for letting me have the week off on such short notice." She held back, needing Amy to understand she wouldn't take advantage of her employment. "I've already told Lynette and Brandy I'd cover their shifts whenever they want time off."

"As long as you ladies work things out between you, it's fine with me if you rearrange your schedules on this shift. It's hard enough to find employees who stay past their three-month probation stage." Amy brushed off her hands. "You've worked here for years and never took time off."

She smiled and went to clear the tables. At eighteen years old, she'd walked into Mama Jean's Pie Shoppe and asked for a job. That was seven years ago.

During that time, she'd made dumb decisions. Buying a car that was worth a quarter of what she got the loan for, renting too big of an apartment that she couldn't afford, and getting behind on bills because she couldn't keep up with her expenses. And moving in with Big.

Her job was her saving grace.

As long as she worked, she had enough money to survive if she limited herself. Maybe not to the level she wished for, but her bills were paid, and now she had a rental house.

She exhaled and put the napkin holder toward the back of the booth. Tomorrow morning, she needed to figure out how to contact her sister and figure out the rent cost. Once next month's expenses were covered, she could relax.

Yesterday, Whip had let her leave the cabin—informing her there were Tarkio members planted around Missoula and would see her going to the house. She hadn't seen anyone on a motorcycle, wearing a leather vest, but she had no doubt they were there. She had no reason not to trust Whip.

Her stomach fluttered. Away from Whip, she was constantly reminded of him.

The good.

The bad.

The really good and really bad.

God, he was stubborn and set in his ways. He wouldn't even argue with her because he believed he'd already won—and he had. She'd stayed with him for six full days.

He snored.

He left his beer cans around the cabin wherever he pleased.

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