Last Chance Rebel. Maisey Yates
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some of the deep color. And beyond that was the gray, endless sea.
It made him feel small. Made him conscious of all the history that was contained in this land, more than just his own. He dismounted, leaving the horse standing as he walked toward the edge of the mountainside, letting the thick silence close in around him.
He heard the sound of feet hitting the ground behind him, and turned to see Rebecca moving toward him. “Going to shove me off?” he asked.
“No. That would be stupid. Then who would end up owning my business? Better the devil you are already dancing with, right?”
“Better to not be dancing with the devil at all, I expect.”
She shrugged. “Sure. But that’s the kind of option I’ve never been afforded.”
“What are your options, then?”
“Deal with the devil, figure it will cost you your soul. But maybe you’ll get something in return. Otherwise, just keep living in hell without getting anything in return. There’s really no decision to be made if you think about it.”
“There’s another option.”
“What’s that?”
“Don’t care about anything. Doesn’t matter if you’re in hell then, or if you get anything in return.”
“You don’t care about anything?”
There was no good answer to that. Not one he liked. He wished he didn’t give a damn. The problem was he gave too many.
He looked out at the expanse of scenery, avoiding looking at her. At her face that bore the marks of his actions. It was a complicated question. If he didn’t care at all, he supposed all the things he’d left behind wouldn’t feel so heavy.
“I don’t have very many connections,” he said, because that much was true.
Just a bunch of people he used to know, people who had been in his life and weren’t anymore. He had never maintained a connection. When he moved on, he moved on. Whether it was from old coworkers, friendships or women.
He didn’t look back. He never had. He never went back to a place he’d been before either. The country was vast, and if you were willing to work with your hands you could do just about anything. And then, there was the financial stuff on top of it. He supposed he had the longest term relationships with his accountant and his lawyer.
“What have you been doing all these years?” The question was asked with more hostility than curiosity, and he had a feeling she was more annoyed with herself than with him in that moment. That she wanted to know anything about him at all.
“Everything. Construction work. Ranch work. Rodeo stuff.”
She nodded once, then turned away from him sharply, taking a step back toward her horse. Then, she pitched forwards, losing her balance and stumbling. He reached out, grabbing hold of her arm and spinning her as he tugged her back, bringing her up against his chest.
Soft breasts pressed against the hard wall of his muscles and when he looked down at her face he didn’t see her scars. Instead he saw luminous, dark eyes and full, tempting lips.
And as quickly as that heat overtook him, shame rushed behind it in an icy chill, cooling the instant, inappropriate attraction.
He moved her back slowly, making sure she was steady. “I imagine we better get back,” he said.
She nodded, her expression blank. “Yes,” she said.
They both got back on their horses, and on the way back, they didn’t make conversation. Instead, Gage spent the entire ride trying to convince himself that the burning sensation in his palm was all in his head. It certainly wasn’t from touching her.
If he needed to get laid, he could hit up any woman here. Except for this one. She was the last woman he should ever touch. He was here to sever ties, not make new ones. Here to clean up messes, not make things worse.
The biggest problem with that was, he didn’t exactly have the best track record when it came to fixing things.
In fact, all he’d ever done in his life was leave things broken.
But he’d be damned if he broke Rebecca Bear any further.
SHE HAD STOPPED shaking by the time she got to her store, but only just. He had touched her again. That was the second time in the space of twenty-four hours. And it wouldn’t be so bad, except that she could still feel it. Not just the touch from earlier today, but the one from last night.
Her skin burned. Her entire body burned. It wasn’t... It wasn’t normal. And it was about ten kinds of messed up.
Talking to him today had probably been a mistake. But she had really needed to know how much of the story his family knew. The fact that he was the only one... It was strange. They shared a secret, in spite of the fact that they had never had a conversation until last week.
But then, that about summed up her entire relationship with Gage West. He had loomed large over her entire existence in spite of the fact that they had never come face-to-face.
It was strange and comforting to realize she had also been in his.
The front door to her store opened, the little bell above the door signaling the entry of a patron. She looked up, and was immediately flooded with guilty heat.
“Jonathan,” she said, as her half brother made his way into the building.
He looked... Well, about as pleasant as he ever did. Which wasn’t very. His dark hair was tied back in a low ponytail, his dark eyes, very similar to her own, glittered with irritation.
“Good to see you. I haven’t heard from you in a few days.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Why have you been busy? Because I’m tempted to think that you’ve been avoiding me.”
She loved her brother. She loved him more than anyone else in her life. That didn’t mean her relationship with him wasn’t difficult. Jonathan had stepped up and taken care of her after their mother had left when she’d been eleven.
She was well aware that not very many twenty-one-year-old boys would want to take care of their half sister. But he had. He had worked two and three jobs to make sure she was well taken care of and that child services wouldn’t take her away.
But, the problem with Jonathan was that he had yet to realize that she had grown up, and that she didn’t need him to direct everything anymore.
“I’m not avoiding you, you paranoid weirdo.” Except that she was. And now that she had phrased it that way, he was probably absolutely certain of that fact.
“That’s so weird, because you haven’t been answering my phone calls.”
“Not on purpose. I’ve just been busy. Store. I’m a homeowner now, so that’s some responsibility. Which you should know something about.” Jonathan’s construction business had been particularly successful over the past couple of years. He did most of his business outside of Copper Ridge, seeing as his chosen profession put him in direct competition with one of the town’s favorite sons, Colton West. It was always Wests.
“I’m never too busy to talk to you,” he said.
She rolled her eyes. “You need a girlfriend.”
“I don’t have girlfriends.”
She put her hands up. “I don’t judge.”
“You know that isn’t what I meant. I meant I don’t do long-term relationships.”
She frowned. “That, I judge a little bit.”
“Well,