“What did he have you do? Were you riding the horses or bench-pressing them?”
Rebecca scowled. “There was just more lifting than I anticipated.”
“What’s happening?” Alison asked.
Rebecca shook her head, and Lane shot her a sharp look, then spoke anyway. “Rebecca is working for the guy who caused her accident.”
“You’re what?” Alison asked.
Rebecca reached across the table and grabbed hold of the remaining cherry on Lane’s toothpick, then took the unnaturally red fruit and popped it into her mouth.
“Hey!” Lane groused. “Cherry-stealing bitch.”
“Loudmouth.”
“What is going on?” Alison asked, clearly unamused by all of the antics.
“Exactly what I said,” Lane said. “Rebecca has decided to work for the guy who caused her accident, and clearly she has put herself under physical duress doing it.”
“Why?” Alison asked. “Rebecca, do you need money? If you need money, you can ask us. I would much rather give you some. Or, put you to work mixing frosting.”
“I don’t need money,” she said, feeling like a cat that had been backed up against the wall. “There’s a specific thing that I have to work out. And it requires working for him.”
“Could you possibly be more cagey?” Lane asked.
“If I tried,” Rebecca said, her tone deadpan, “I suppose I could be.”
“I just don’t get it.”
“It’s complicated. I owe him money.”
“How do you owe him money?”
“It’s complicated!” A prickling sensation assaulted the back of Rebecca’s neck, and she looked up just in time to see Gage walking through the door of the bar. “Oh, great,” she muttered.
“What?” Alison asked.
“Nothing,” Rebecca responded. She stood up, taking a long drink of the last of her beer. “I need another drink.”
She made her way back over to the bar, too late remembering that everything hurt and walking across the space was an assault. “More beer,” she said to Ace, setting the glass on the countertop.
“What happened?”
She turned around, her heart thundering hard against her chest as her gaze clashed with Gage’s stormy blue eyes. “Nothing,” she bit out.
“Then why are you limping?”
Rage poured down through her like an acid rain. “Oh, I have a little bit of a problem sometimes with my joints. My bones ache. Not because I’m old, mind you. But because I sustained a pretty serious injury to my leg and sometimes after I work, the muscles tighten up and everything goes a little bit nuts.” She gritted her teeth. “I feel like you might know something about that.”
“The work is too much for you,” he said, his voice flat.
Ace came back over to the bar and set the glass down in front of Rebecca.
“Put that on my tab, Ace,” Gage said.
She grabbed hold of the beer, her heart hammering hard. “Don’t do that, Ace.”
“Don’t listen to her,” Gage said.
“I’m going to pay for the beer if you can’t figure it out,” Ace said, turning away from them and going to help another customer.
“I’m trying to work off my debt to you,” she said, “not accrue more.”
“I can’t buy you a beer?”
“I’m confused about why you’re talking to me.”
“I don’t like you limping like this. I don’t like that the work hurt you.”
“I didn’t ask for your charity.” She scowled. “In fact, I think I’ve made it pretty clear I want to blot your charity from the record.”
“You’re not doing the work anymore. That’s it. Not going to have you limping around town because you’re trying to repay something I didn’t want you to pay for in the first place.”
He was just so large, hard and imposing, looming over her, his face a whole thunderstorm. He made her feel small and vulnerable. Like she was out of control. And she hated it.
“It isn’t your decision,” she said, her voice hard. “I have some say.”
He shook his head, and she found her eyes drawn to the grim line of his mouth. She was fascinated by it. By the deep grooves around it that proved this firm, uncompromising set was the typical expression for him. She wondered what he had to be uncompromising about.
She shouldn’t wonder. She shouldn’t wonder any damn thing about him.
“Sorry to say,” he said, not sounding sorry at all, “But you don’t.”
“I don’t understand why you’re doing this,” she said, keeping her voice low. The last thing she wanted to do was draw attention to them. They probably already were drawing attention. Pathetic, scarred-up Rebecca Bear talking to the tallest, hottest guy in the room. People were probably pitying her. Or wondering if he was asking for directions.