Page 9 of Rebel Secrets (Devils Hockey #3)

This fantasy had a female protagonist with mental health issues who slowly worked on her issues to become a warrior for her people. I’d loved it. It spoke to me.

“Oh yeah? Who’s coming? We’re going to need more chairs.”

Rethinking the whole arrangement of the table, I began to move things around, then realized I needed to get another table. And chairs.

“Yeah, about that,” Rain said.

I knew that tone. I looked up from the table, where I was mentally moving things around, eyes widening when I saw the look on her face. Who could possibly be coming to book club to put that look on her face?

“So, you know how Rebel got home a couple of days ago?”

My mind went blank. Actually, I hadn’t known. I’d been underwater the past few weeks with the paper and the bakery and the bookstore. In the weeds. Drowning.

No, not drowning. I was managing. Maybe I’d bit off a little too much more than I could chew in the past few weeks, but things were looking up.

Abby had agreed to work full-time, and the wedding craziness would be over in three weeks.

I just needed to keep swimming, and I’d be able to take a breath soon.

“Oh?”

Rain crinkled her nose a little and her mouth did a little quirky twist.

“Yeah,” she drew out the word to about five syllables. “So, he’ll be here tonight.”

My eyes widened so fast, I must have looked like one of those cartoon characters whose eyes pop out of their face in surprise.

“What? Why?”

“Well, from what I understand from Rowdy, he read the book and really liked it, and I quote, ‘the guy needs to get the fuck out of his head for a little.’”

“Wh—Oh, yeah.”

The team he’d been playing for had lost their championship game. I only knew because Rain had come into the bakery last week, mope-faced and needing a chocolate muffin. Then she’d told me Rebel’s team had lost, he was coming home, and her car needed a complete overhaul.

At the time, I’d been working on…oh hell, I don’t even remember what I’d been working on. Sample apps for the wedding, I think. And since I tended to just gloss over all things Rebel, it didn’t really register.

“He’s been home for a few days, getting settled back in his place and scarfing up my mom’s homemade food like he hasn’t eaten in weeks.

But yeah, he’ll be here tonight, and I wanted to give you a heads up before he walked through the door, and you made a beeline for the kitchen and stayed there all night. ”

“Hey, it’s not like I hate your brother, you know.” I shrugged. “We just have opposite personalities.”

“You know that old saying, right?”

I gave Rain the look. “If you say opposites attract, I’m going to throw this cupcake at your face.”

I picked up the closest one from the tray and held it up, truly ready to fling it if she said one more word.

Behind me, Abby snickered, which in itself was a worth the dramatics.

She was a few years older than Rain and me, but sometimes I forgot that.

She just seemed so shy a lot of the time, that I always thought she was younger.

Rain laughed. “Oh, please no. Don’t throw the cupcake. Just hand it over, and I’ll eat it.”

I stuck my tongue out at her and put the cupcake back on the tray. “Just for that, you don’t get any.”

“Aw, don’t be mean. You know I love your cupcakes. They’re the best.”

“If I had known Rebel was coming, I would’ve made more. Guys always eat more.”

“You always make more than enough,” Abby said. “They’ll be plenty.”

But of course, now I was worried about running out of food. And, yeah, knowing Rebel was going to be here made my stomach curl into a little ball.

No time for that.

I left Rain and Abby to set up the table and headed for the glass door that separated the café from the bookstore when it was closed. I planned to pull a few of the chairs from the café into the bookstore and was just walking past the front door when it opened.

Of course, I wasn’t looking, so when the door swung inward, it startled me.

I let out a little yelp and grabbed the door before it could hit me, which just made the person on the other side say, “Shit,” and push harder. Stumbling backward, I released the door, tripped over my feet and would’ve ended up on my ass on the floor if someone hadn’t caught me.

Strong arms wrapped around my back and hips, dragging me close to a warm body that smelled like spicy mint and vanilla. A warm, hard body with huge hands that molded into my skin.

And were connected to Rebel.

“Oh—”

“Shit—”

We froze, staring at each other like deer in headlights, not saying a word.

I couldn’t unstick my tongue from the roof of my mouth.

I stared into his eyes like I’d never seen them before.

And I hadn’t. At least, not this close. I’d known they were dark, but not such a deep, velvety brown.

And had his lips always been so…lickable?

Oh my god! Was I insane? Had I hit my head against the door while I was falling? This was Rebel. Not some random guy off the street I could lust over. I didn’t lust over Rebel.

Nope. Ick. Absolutely no.

A split second later, he pulled me to my feet and took a step back, pulling his hands away like he’d touched a hot stove. Or was standing a little too close. To me.

“Sorry—”

“Sorry—”

“Hey, you’re blocking the door. Everything okay?”

Rowdy had stopped just behind Rebel, holding the door open so it didn’t swing shut and smack us.

“Yep” I threw a smile at Rowdy. “Everything’s fine. Just need to get a few from chairs from the café.”

“Hey, Reb, why don’t you give her a hand so I can bring in the extra bottles we brought.”

Only I saw Rebel’s slight hesitation and the tightening of his lips before he nodded.

“Sure.”

I went into default mode. Smile and babble. And what made it worse was that I knew Rebel couldn’t stand that.

“Thanks, but I’m fine. If you just want to?—”

“Erin. Just open the door.”

His voice did something to my brain, I swear. Rebel’s voice was deeper than Rowdy’s and had a little bit of a smoky quality. Not raspy but like he was thinking dirty thoughts all the time. My mom would call it a bedroom voice.

I definitely knew Rebel was not thinking about me and a bedroom at the same time. No way in hell. I’m pretty sure that was exasperation in his voice when he’d basically ordered me to open the door. And of course I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of following that order.

I pasted on my finest fake smile and watched his eyes narrow and his gaze drop to look at my lips. Now, why did that make me feel tingly in my stomach? Probably indigestion from eating way too many cookies today. I’d been way too busy to eat anything else. (Ha! said my inner Mom voice.)

“I’m certain I can manage?—”

“You know we’d be done already, right? We can both get two chairs and won’t have to make another trip.”

Since I couldn’t argue with his logic, even though I really, really wanted to, I bit my tongue and turned to the bakery door, pulling the master key from my pocket. Slotting it in, I turned abruptly, determined not to let him think he’d won anything?—

And found him checking out my ass. I mean, I think that’s what he’d been looking at. It was such a foreign concept, I knew I had to be dreaming. There was no way Rebel had been checking out my ass. So naturally, I looked down to see if I had something stuck to my butt.

“Do I have…I mean, is there something…”

I looked up to find an expression on his face I’d never seen there before. I could almost swear he was embarrassed. Was he embarrassed to get caught looking at my butt? I had to be wrong. Rebel would never be caught dead checking me out.

“Erin. Let’s just get the chairs.”

I could take a hint. Sometimes it took a sledgehammer over the head, but eventually I got what people meant.

Rebel wanted to put some space between us.

As fast as possible. I turned back to the door, but before I did, my gaze caught on the t-shirt he was wearing.

Okay, what it actually got caught on was the way it stretched across his broad chest. And the way it accentuated the muscles there. The very muscley muscles.

Oh my god, now I was eyeing Rebel like a side of beef.

I quickly refocused my attention on getting the door open and walked into the dark bakery without turning on a light.

I knew exactly where I was going, and I figured there was enough light from the bookstore that Rebel would be able to see. But I’d figured wrong.

I heard a thwack and then Rebel cursing.

“Do you think we could have a little light so I don’t kill myself before my brother’s wedding. I don’t think my mom would be very happy if I can’t stand up for my brother.”

“Sorry, sorry. I know this place like the back of my hand. I wasn’t thinking.”

Hurrying to the counter, I flipped the switch and light flooded the room, banishing the shadows.

“Are you okay?”

I hurried back over to find Rebel bent over, rubbing his shin.

“Do you need ice?”

I think I actually saw Rebel roll his eyes. “One chair leg to the shin isn’t going to do me in.”

“Oh, that’s right. You’re a big, strong hockey player. Nothing hurts you.”

I don’t know where the words came from. Usually I’m not that sassy with Rebel. He’s so damn prickly.

Prickly and Sassy. My inner voice snorted.

Our porn movie name.

Oh, for fuck’s sake. Where the hell had that come from? I was watching too many reruns of Brooklyn Nine-Nine.

Releasing a huge sigh, I gave him the look. The one that usually makes men cross streets to avoid me, either because they think I want something or because I want to talk to them. Either is enough for them to turn tail and pretend they don’t hear me or see me.

Honestly, you would think I was subjecting them to torture.

Straightening to his full height, Rebel crossed his arms over that broad chest I couldn’t seem to stop looking at.

I swear the man had filled out since his time with the Redtails.

He definitely had more muscle. Not that he hadn’t had a great body before he’d left.

Not that I checked the guy out or anything.

He was just hard to miss, you know? And the fact that I was besties with his sister meant he was always around.

“Maybe a slapshot to the face.”

He said it so deadpan, my mouth dropped open. I never really expected him to respond to my teasing. He just never paid me enough attention to care. Or at least, that’s what I thought. And then I immediately wanted to know more.

“Have you taken a slapshot to the face?”

“A few times, yeah. Hurts like a motherfucker.”

“I bet.”

“You take a few of those, you tend to rethink your career choice. Which chairs do you want me to grab?”

My brain got a little bit of whiplash. I heard something in his voice I wasn’t used to hearing when he talked to me. Seriousness. And suddenly, I wanted to hear more. I wanted to know everything.

“ Are you rethinking your career choice?”

Was he talking about moving to the Redtails or hockey in general?

He didn’t say anything right away, and I had a bit of a surreal moment when I actually thought he might open up to me, say something meaningful.

And I found I wanted him to. Despite our frenemy status, I didn’t want to curse the guy or anything like that.

I mean, he wasn’t a bad guy. We just weren’t?—

“I’m gonna take these chairs over. You coming?”

Obviously, we were not having a meaningful conversation tonight. Not that I really expected us to.

Grabbing the two closest chairs, he headed back to the door, opened it, then waited for me. I picked up another two chairs and literally bit my tongue so I didn’t say anything else.

And made very sure I didn’t actually bump into him as I passed by.