The Rebel Returns. Michelle Douglas

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The Rebel Returns - Michelle Douglas


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through his hair. “I don’t have all of the answers. I just know that a mother’s love runs deep. You’ve both made mistakes. How long has it been since you tried to talk to her?”

      “Almost two years. The last time I called was a month after the funeral. She told me never to call again.” Cleo’s eyes shimmered and she blinked repeatedly.

      “Try to forget what she said in a moment of grief and follow your heart. When you talk to her be honest about who you are and what you want in life. Maybe she’ll surprise you. What do you have to lose?”

      Cleo shook her head. “I—I can’t do that. I can’t have her say those hurtful things again. I’m fine with the way things are now.”

      “Then you’re lying to me and yourself. This distance isn’t making you happy. You may have all of the independence in the world, but it’ll never replace the love of your family. And don’t doubt that they love you just as much as you love them.” He got to his feet. “Now I have a cat to track down.”

      He didn’t want to push Cleo too far too fast, but before they went their separate ways, he hoped she’d work up the courage to call home. The sooner, the better. Otherwise he wasn’t sure if he could just walk away from her and leave her alone.

      * * *

      A few days later, Cleo was still thinking over Jax’s words. The fact that he’d come to her mother’s defense she found confusing. Why was he pushing this? There had never been any love between him and her mother. In fact, as a kid, Jax used to revel in egging her mother on by doing things to irritate her. So why was he suddenly coming to her mother’s aid?

      It didn’t make any sense. But more than that, Cleo didn’t feel worthy to be part of the Sinclair clan any longer. Not when her actions contributed to her father’s death—the man who gave her the dream of an Ivy League school even though he’d had to put the family’s heritage at risk to do it. And how did she repay him? By her last words to him being ones of anger.

      Cleo gave herself a mental jerk. She wasn’t going down that painful road again. She’d thought she’d tucked all of these memories into a locked box in the back of her mind. Now the memories had broken the padlock and were spilling out faster than she could push the lid closed.

      What she needed to do was quit thinking. She’d done enough of that all afternoon and right about now, the most delightful aroma was coming from the kitchen.

      Tired of sketching, she closed the pad and placed it on the glass coffee table alongside her colored pencils. She grabbed the crutches that she was now more adept at using and made her way to the kitchen.

      From the hallway, she could hear Jax talking but she couldn’t make out what he was saying until she got closer. “Don’t look so down. Us guys have to stick together. I’m sure that surgery wasn’t easy.”

      Surgery? Oh, having Charlie neutered. She smiled as she listened to Jax sympathizing with the cat. He continued to talk as if Charlie understood every word he said.

      “Here. Maybe this will cheer you up.”

      Cleo turned the corner in time to find Jax doling out some treats before turning his attention back to the stove.

      “So you and Charlie are buddies now?”

      Jax jerked around from where he’d been stirring a steaming pot. With the spoon still in his hand, the tomato sauce dripped all over the black-and-white floor tiles. The sheepish look reminded her of the expression her brothers would get when caught stealing one of her mother’s cookies fresh from the oven.

      “You heard that?”

      “I did.” She worked her way over to the island and pulled out a stool. “I told you Charlie would grow on you.”

      Jax turned away and busied himself cleaning up the mess. “There. All cleaned up.” He tossed the paper towels in the trash and washed his hands. “I hope you like pasta.”

      “Smells delicious to me. What is it?”

      “My version of Sicilian pasta.” He broke up some capellini and dunked it in a pot of boiling water. “It’ll be ready shortly if you want to go back to the family room. I can bring it in there.”

      “I’m bored with my own company. Mind if I stay and watch?”

      He cocked a smile. “Is that your way of saying that I’m interesting? Or am I just the best of the worst?”

      She laughed. “Hmm...I’m not going to answer on the grounds that it might incriminate me.”

      “I see how you are,” he said teasingly as he moved to the fridge.

      She wouldn’t have missed this for anything in the world. As he bent over to retrieve some salad makings, she couldn’t help but take in the way his faded jeans accentuated his backside. There wasn’t an ounce of flab on the guy. Between his good looks and wealth, why was he still single?

      “So do you do this often?”

      He turned around with a head of iceberg lettuce in one hand and a large tomato in the other. “No. I rarely cook.”

      Then an unhappy thought came to mind. “Is that because there’s a woman around to do the cooking for you?”

      His gaze caught hers. “And what would you say if I told you that she cooks, cleans and folds my underwear, too?”

      The thought that he’d be involved with someone hadn’t even crossed her mind. An uneasy feeling stirred within her. She didn’t know why she’d just assumed he was available. He was sexy and rich. He could have his choice of women.

      “Before you go jumping to the wrong conclusion,” Jax said, “you should know that she’s my cleaning lady. She’s old enough to be my mother and she’s happily married.”

      Cleo breathed easier. “That’s good because I’m never going to be the other woman. Especially when I know firsthand how much it hurts everyone involved.” Then realizing she’d said too much, heat licked at her cheeks.

      She glanced up, catching the slack-jawed look on Jax’s face.

      “I would never want you to be the other woman. If you were mine, there wouldn’t be anyone else in my life but you. You’d be all I’d need.”

      Her gaze met his. Her heart thump-thumped in her chest. She’d only ever dreamed of someone speaking such endearing words to her.

      The kitchen timer buzzed. In a blink the fairy-tale moment ended.

      Jax moved around the counter. “I have to take care of the pasta, but don’t go anywhere. We aren’t through with this conversation.”

      She watched as he drained the pasta, dribbled some olive oil on it, gave it a toss and put the lid on the pan. She thought of sneaking off while he stirred the sauce, but she was certain that he’d track her down. She might as well get this over with. Her stomach growled its agreement. Her only road to dinner was a detour through her past.

      After turning down the heat and giving the sauce one final stir, Jax joined her at the counter. He settled down on the stool and faced her. “Now, what is this about you being hurt by another woman?”

      “It’s not worth getting into the details. Let’s just say the moral of the story is I let myself fall for the wrong guy. And now I know better. So let’s have dinner and forget all of this.”

      “Not so fast. I want to know the parts you’re skipping over.”

      She exhaled an exasperated sigh. She hated to think about how naive she’d been. She’d never be that trusting again because putting your heart on the line was just asking to be hurt—even from those that you’d least expect.

      “It was my last year in college and I’d fallen hard for this guy from my public speaking class. He was charming and charismatic. Let’s just say he aced the class without breaking a sweat.”

      “And


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