Page 86 of Rebel Secrets
Wincing, I walked over to give my granddad a hug.“Sorry.I don’t mean to?—”
“Oh, honey, no need to apologize.”He hugged me back.“Just remember your mom loves you.She’s just…” he rolled his eyes, “a little demanding.”
I was about to respond when the door opened, and Rebel walked through.
My mouth dropped open.
“What are you doing here?Why aren’t you at camp?”
He didn’t answer right away.Nodding to Granddad, he walked up to the counter, dressed for camp in track pants and a dark t-shirt with the Devil’s logo that molded lovingly to his chest.My attention stuck on how good he looked in that shirt, and when he got to the counter, he leaned against the counter, his gaze holding mine.
“I need coffee.And a cherry almond scone.”
Words wouldn’t come, my brain trying to make sense out of what he’d said.
“Coffee?You have coffee at the arena.”I shook my head, like I was trying to make the words, out of the corner of my eye, I saw my granddad shake his head and turn to the side, but not before I glimpsed his smile.What was going on?
Then I caught sight of the other customers, all of whom were regulars, staring at us and grinning.If Rebel saw any of this, he either didn’t care or… well, he probably just didn’t care.
Wait, did they know what had happened the night of the wedding?
No.No way.No one knew about that.I hadn’t told anyone, and I know Rebel wouldn’t have told anyone.
Oh my god, maybe someone had seen us at the arena?No, that was even more unlikely?—
“Erin.Coffee.Black, please.”
I refocused on Rebel, eyes narrowed as I tried to figure out what was going on.Did I have something on my face?Was my skirt ripped and my ass was showing?What the hell was going on?
With a huff, I turned to the coffee machines, grabbed an extra-large cup, because that’s all he ever ordered, and filled it to the brim.I reached for a lid, figuring he’d take it and go, but he said, “Don’t bother.I’ll drink it here.”
Okay, now I knew something was up.I set the cup in front of him and crossed my arms over my chest, staring at him like I could get him to tell me what was going on with only the power of my gaze.
He stared back, his lips puckering to blow on the steaming coffee.Damn the man for having lips I wanted to bite—and feel on the inside of my thighs.Heat started at the top of my head and worked its way down my body, right to my core.
Shit, shit, shit.
I absolutely did not need this now.Not when my mom’s Town Car pulled up to the curb outside the bakery.I sucked in air, my desire for Rebel combining with the anxiety of my mom’s visit, making me a complete flaming idiot.
Until Rebel put his hand over the fist I was making with my left hand.I hadn’t even known I was doing it, but the warmth of his grip made me relax, just enough to take a deep breath.
“I’d really like that scone to go with the coffee.”
His soft rumble drew my attention away from the window, where the driver was getting out of the car and walking around to back passenger door.His dark gaze held mine, reminding me of the time we’d spent together lately.Naked.And a little of that anxiety about my mom leached away.
There were so many reasons that shouldn’t be possible.And yet, Rebel made it so.Our secret affair (how that word fit into my life right now was crazy) gave me something else to obsess—no, to focus on.Having Rebel here helped ground me.
I hadn’t even noticed my mom get out of the car, but the door to the bakery opened, the little antique bell tinkling as it did, and my mom walked through.Before I could watch her dissect my pride and joy with her critical mind, I turned to get a plate so I could get Rebel his scone.
Behind me, I heard my granddad say, “Hello, Pammie.How are you, sweetheart?”
I heard my mom’s slightly annoyed, slightly amused sigh at the nickname, the one only her father was allowed call her.And then she hugged him.
“Daddy, it’s good to see you.All this country air you keep talking about must have magical properties.You look…better.”
Now she had my full attention.My mom didn’t give out compliments often.And even though that might sound like a back-handed one to some people, I heard actual emotion in her voice.
In my mind, I heard my therapist’s voice say,Just because your mother doesn’t act like you doesn’t mean she doesn’t have feelings.She just expresses them differently than you do.
