Last Chance Rebel (Copper Ridge #6) - Maisey Yates Page 0,33

between their mouths...that just proved that she was under some kind of psychological duress brought about by his presence, no doubt.

There was no reason to feel disquieted. He wasn’t going to do anything. He looked at her like some kind of score he had to settle. That was it. He didn’t see her as a human, much less as a woman. This all had to do with some vague idea about soothing a conscience that she imagined was way too damaged to ever truly be soothed. But, that part wasn’t her problem. Her problem was getting him out of her life, and getting final ownership of the store.

“Fine,” she said through her teeth.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night then.”

He walked out, just as another customer walked in, and it didn’t even give her a moment to breathe a sigh of relief over his absence. Didn’t give her a moment to recalibrate, which was why—she told herself—she spent the rest of the day with her head churning. She had a steady stream of customers, and it kept her just distracted enough that she didn’t brood, but wasn’t quite able to ever calm down.

She felt restless, edgy, for the rest of the day, a strange kind of energy shooting through her veins that she couldn’t quite put a name to.

By the time she got home, she just wanted to collapse. And she very guiltily ignored a couple of texts from the girls. Because she didn’t want to go out, and she didn’t want to talk to anybody. She didn’t want to tell them about what had happened with Gage, but she had a terrible feeling that if she talked to any of them, she would end up spilling the beans.

She wanted to keep all of the dark, confusing feelings from earlier today locked up inside, but they were beating at the door, desperate to get out. She was confused, and she was restless. Those things were a very bad combination.

She was pretty accustomed to keeping her feelings and thoughts to herself when it suited her.

But she could tell this was not a well-behaved feeling. It was not going to sit in the corner until she told it it could be done. It was going to burst out of her at an inopportune moment unless she got a handle on it.

She wandered to the fridge, reaching inside and taking out a piece of pie that was left over from Alison’s shop the other day. She hummed as she took a bite of the lemon meringue, wandering over to her couch and taking a seat with her feet folded underneath her.

She grabbed the remote that was next to her and turned the TV on, flicking it to a network that usually replayed old comedies. She didn’t watch TV often enough to keep up with any shows, not because she didn’t like it, but because her schedule was too haphazard.

But reruns were always a good bet.

It was an episode of a show that she liked, so she settled into the couch, taking another bite of pie. This was good. A little clarity. A little pie.

Except, the comedy took a slightly emotional turn as two of the main characters started fighting about their relationship. And then, when things hit a peak and the woman unlocked the door to the coffee place, letting the man back in so that they could kiss passionately, Rebecca’s mind went completely blank of everything except what it would be like to kiss Gage like that.

What would’ve happened if she had leaned forward, closing that distance? If she had grabbed hold of his face and pressed her lips to his, pressed her breasts to his hard chest...

She set her pie plate down on the couch and jumped up, walking back behind the couch and trying to do something with the restless energy inside of her. She should not be thinking of him this way. She really shouldn’t be thinking of anyone this way, and typically, she didn’t. She had all that stuff under control. Her life moved in a series of predictable patterns and she liked it that way.

What she didn’t like was this. This longing that worked in direct opposition to reality. She didn’t... There were a lot of reasons that she had never been with a man. Valid reasons. The last time she’d gone out with a guy, he had assumed that because of her scars she should be grateful for the attention. He had assumed that she would be easy.

She

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