Her Rebel Heart

by Jamie Farrell

  Chapter 13

  Kaci told Lance to meet her at her place in half an hour. When she got home, her first stop was to check in with Wanda Hamm across the hall. Her sweet neighbor had taken Miss Higgs while Kaci was at work and Tara was in class, since Kaci hadn’t wanted to leave her cat alone. “How was she?” she whispered.

  “Happy as can be,” Wanda replied. “She slept most of the day, but she ate the tuna you left.”

  Miss Higgs was snore-purring on the Hamms’ flowered couch, but she opened one frosted eyeball and stretched a paw in greeting before drifting back to sleep.

  “Do you mind keeping her for a few more hours?” Kaci asked. “I have a friend who needs some help with something, and Tara’s working tonight.”

  “Of course. She’s welcome here anytime. Poor girl shouldn’t be alone at her age.”

  She kissed the kitty’s head and thanked Wanda again. She darted to her own apartment, dug out a box from beneath her bed, grabbed a few supplies from the kitchen, and was back down in the parking lot as quickly as she could get there.

  She’d just shut her tailgate when Lance pulled up beside her. He hopped down from his truck and eyed the back end of her Jeep. “Tell me you have a license for that.”

  So he’d noticed what she was carrying. “Ain’t doubting me now, are you?”

  “You didn’t say ‘ain’t’ once in your lecture.”

  “Duh.”

  He grinned at her, and she couldn’t help smiling back.

  Things had been odd between them when he left her apartment last night—she’d kicked him out before Tara got home so she wouldn’t be subjected to any eye rolls or lectures from her roommate—but the minute he’d walked into her classroom, her heart had kicked into overdrive and launched itself against her ribs like it’d been shot out of a cannon.

  He’d come all the way from the base to see her in the middle of the afternoon.

  And she was irrationally happy to see him. She hadn’t gotten heart flutters over a boy since high school.

  Temporary insanity, she told herself.

  Otherwise, she’d worry what it meant for her long-term emotional health.

  Because Kaci wanted to make tenure. She wanted to stay at James Robert. She wanted to keep doing her research, keep volunteering with the Physics Club and other kids, and keep teaching students, both about physics and about life.

  And Lance would get orders and leave one day.

  Simple as that.

  Her brain knew it. Her heart needed to remember it.

  “So where are we going?” he asked.

  “Little spot I know.”

  After the pumpkin-chucking disaster, she wasn’t risking open fields anymore, even known open fields in the daylight. Instead, she steered her Jeep out of town, pointed it south, and kept going through pine forests and pecan orchards with the help of her phone for directions. With the windows down, talking was impossible.

  After about an hour, she pulled onto a gravel road. Lance had been leaning back in his seat, but he sat straighter, his dark eyes going more alert. “Where are we?”

  She flashed him a smile. “Somewhere we can’t hit a darn thing for miles.”

  They bumped along the road for several minutes before she stopped in a little clearing that would’ve been fantastic for camping. She killed the engine, hopped out, and grabbed the case from the back. “Before we go, you sure you don’t want to keep those? Looks like you could get a pretty penny for the sparkly one.”

  He shook his head. “Wasn’t money I ever planned on getting back.”

  “Completely positive?”

  “One hundred percent sure.” His talented lips quirked up in a grin, and she had an overwhelming desire to yank a fistful of his shirt and pull him down for a kiss.

  She had to remind her libido that they were here to help him blast his past out of his life, not to go for a roll in the hay.

  Besides, there wasn’t any hay out here. Just pine needles and last year’s fallen live oak leaves. “Then grab that bag and follow me.”

  He snagged her purse as ordered and followed her to a small trail in the woods that led down to a creek. “Nice place,” he said.

  “Great fishing.”

  “We feeding my rings to the fish?”

  “Wouldn’t make nearly a big enough bang to make you feel better.”

  “Should I have brought some whiskey?”

  “I don’t know what y’all do in Alabama, but I practice safe rednecking.”

  He made a noise in his throat, and even though she knew he was laughing at her, she had to squeeze her thighs together.

  Later, she reminded herself.

  The man still owed her a date. She’d get him naked again. But today, she’d be good and respectful.

  Even if it killed her.

  She squatted along the creek bank and unbuckled her case. Lance leaned over her while she opened the lid.

  And there it was.

  Gleaming pink with a six-foot barrel, a built-in propane tank, and electric igniter. Complete with a shoulder strap and custom grip. Built with love by her own two hands, swabbed clean after her divorce.

  “Is that a potato gun?”

  “Sugar, this is the potato gun. This potato gun puts every other potato gun to shame. This potato gun spits on your momma’s potato gun. This is the potato gun to end all potato guns.”

  He swiped his hand over his mouth, but his dark eyes were dancing with amusement.

  “Won’t be laughing when my potato gun puts your rings into orbit,” she said cheerfully.

  “Into orbit,” he repeated.

  “Yep.”

  “That a promise or a threat?”

  “You doubt my potato gun?”

  There went that amused gleam again. The man packed more sexy into a simple smile than she’d ever encountered in all the men she’d met in her life combined.

  “You do doubt my potato gun!” she exclaimed.

  “Sweetheart, I know better than to underestimate anything you do.”

  “Then what’s that smile for?”

  “Anticipation.”

  “Hmm.”

  He squatted beside her. “And the joy of an afternoon in your company.”

  “Pushing it, Captain. Get your mitts off my potato gun.”

  Dang man.

  When he grinned at her like that, as though he could see right through her bluster, she wanted to kiss him again.

  She made quick work of checking that everything was in working order, then reached for her purse and pulled out a sack of potatoes. “Let’s get to it.”

  “You’re not serious about orbit, are you? The FAA doesn’t like foreign objects in their airspace.”

  “You going prissy on me, Captain Chicken Pants?”

  “I’m going adult on you.”

  “No need to get your flight suit all tied up in a twist. We’ll keep it below the radar.” She cocked her head at him. “But I could put it in orbit.”

  “I have every faith in you. Not so sure the dudes in the back row did though.”

  The dudes in the back, her fellow professors in the Physics Department, were no better or worse than any other set of men she’d worked with. “They think I’m biding my time until I get knocked up with a few kids and decide to stay home instead of playing at being a scientist.”

  “My sister gets that a lot too.” He grinned. “But she’s trained to fire real rockets. None of this homemade stuff.”

  “You keep talking, I won’t let you do the firing.”

  “It’s all my pent-up anger and frustration with women. I can’t help myself.”

  She eyed him. He didn’t sound pent-up and frustrated.

  In fact, he sounded downright happy.

  Those brown eyes went puppy-dog pathetic. “I’m sure I’ll be better after I fire your potato gun.”

  “How long were y’all together?”

  A muscle strained in his neck, and he shifted his attention to the burbling creek. “Three yea
rs.”

  “Long time.”

  “She was in school half of it. Getting a master’s in education. She took a ‘starter job’ with a high school in Atlanta last year, so I asked to be assigned here. Wasn’t my first choice, but it was the closest I could get.”

  “And she didn’t want to move.”

  His lips straightened into a grim line. “Couldn’t find a job here this fall. Should’ve known something was up when she wouldn’t move here and let me take care of her.”

  “I liked moving when I was a kid,” Kaci said.

  Lance turned a surprised look on her. “You did?”

  She nodded. “I liked going where nobody knew me. Starting over. I’d always try to be someone else, tell the other kids I was secretly a princess in hiding, that sort of thing. After Momma settled us back home in Mississippi, I wished we could move again. I didn’t like my classmates and they didn’t like me.”

  “That seems so unlikely.”

  She shoved his arm, but despite all his valid reasons for not liking her, he was still here, egging her on. “My daddy understood me better than Momma ever has. I always knew he’d forgive me for whatever stories I made up, and then probably take me out to have some fun setting off bottle rockets or launching produce. But once he was gone, I had to try harder to fit in. I just—oh, listen to me. This here’s about you.” She stood and dusted her pants, then grabbed her potato gun. “You’re gonna have to point it down the creek that way—that’s west, right?”

  “That’s west,” he agreed. “How far does that thing shoot?”

  “It’ll go half a mile if it goes an inch.”

  He looked at her, then shielded his eyes and peered down the creek. “What’s down there?”

  “Miles and miles of pine trees, all the way to the Alabama border.”

  Which he probably knew, because he seemed the responsible type who wouldn’t shoot a projectile without having an idea where it would land.

  Still, she wasn’t surprised when he took off, his long stride eating up the ground.

  Of course he didn’t believe her that they were clear to launch.

  After the pumpkin-chucking disaster, she couldn’t entirely blame him.

  She jogged after him, her legs pumping double time to keep up. “See, you don’t trust me,” she said with a fake sniff. “Suppose you didn’t trust your ex either. Maybe that’s why she left.”

  He slid her one of those I see you right through your baloney smiles. “When we got engaged, she kept saying she couldn’t wait to see the world. But when it came down to the wire, she didn’t want to go. Likes being close to her family, doesn’t like being alone, and military life isn’t good for that.”

  “You miss her?”

  He kept his gaze straight ahead as though the forest might give him the right answer. “I miss what I thought we had,” he finally said. “But I miss the idea of her more than I miss the reality of her.”

  She had to stifle a snort. “Oh, sugar, been there.”

  “You get married so you could keep moving?”

  “Probably some of it,” she conceded.

  “Still want to move?”

  “No.”

  “Give it another year.”

  She understood his theory—wanderlust happened—but in the past year or so, especially with Ron following her here to Georgia, she’d begun to understand she hadn’t liked moving for the change in scenery or the challenge or even because she got bored.

  She’d liked moving for the chance at a fresh start. To try to be someone else for a while.

  “I don’t want to start over anymore,” she said. “I am who I am, and I’m about done looking for a place I fit better. I fit how I fit. And there’s not a place in the world that’s gonna bend to fit me any better than I can fit myself.”

  He grinned at her. “You’re one of a kind, Dr. Boudreaux.”

  “And I’m sure the world’s grateful.”

  Thirty minutes later, Lance had agreed that it was safe to shoot the potato gun. They hiked back to where they’d left the equipment, and Kaci handed him her pink pride and joy. “Stuff one of those potatoes into the top of the barrel, but don’t push it all the way down yet. You got a knife?”

  He pulled a four-inch folding pocketknife from his back pocket.

  “Once you get the potato in up top, we’re gonna cut a slit for the ring,” she explained. “Then you can finish loading it and fire it off.”

  “You’re going to let me fire your potato gun.”

  She dug a foot into the sandy ground. “I have this little problem with aim…”

  He snorted. “No way.”

  “Hush up. It’s not because I’m a girl. If my daddy hadn’t left us too soon, he would’ve had me out at the firing range every Saturday afternoon. But my momma kept stuffing me in dresses and making me do all those dang beauty pageants. I snuck out and had my fun where I could, but you ain’t met the woman. She could’ve been a drill sergeant.”

  He was still grinning as he inspected the potato gun. “You want, I can take you out to the shooting range sometime. Teach you a few tricks.”

  “Don’t you go teasing me like that. You ever shot a spud gun before?”

  His wide grin answered the mating call in her pure redneck heart. “Never one like this.”

  “You’re in for a treat.”

  “For once, I just might agree with you.”

  * * *

  The woman was nuts, but Lance liked her craziness more with every passing day.

  Did he honestly need to shoot off his wedding set to get over Allison? Hell no. And his own momma would probably have a heart attack at the idea. But when he twisted a potato into the barrel and dug out a channel in the spud to shove in what should’ve been his wedding ring, he felt an anticipation stronger than the anticipation he’d had in the weeks leading up to his wedding.

  Might be some appreciation growing for being here in Georgia too.

  Not enough to stay—he still wanted to see the world—but enough to make it tolerable for the next year and a half until he could hopefully get an early assignment anywhere else.

  “Shove that ring in there good,” she said. “Don’t want it to come out on launch. But not too deep—don’t want the potato to explode either.”

  “Yes, Dr. Boudreaux.”

  She humphed. “Or maybe you do want the potato to explode.”

  He sucked in another grin. Too easy to get her goat.

  Once he had the potato loaded with his ring, he took the broomstick handle from her and shoved the spud all the way down the barrel.

  “Put the strap over your shoulder and aim it from your hip,” she said. “You put that puppy to your shoulder, you’ll land on your ass and probably have to see a doctor about your rotator cuff.”

  “Lesson learned the hard way?”

  “By a man who didn’t listen to me.”

  He tucked in another grin. “He deserved it, then.”

  “Dang right. This here’s the fuel control. Watch the pressure gauge when you’re filling it—that’s good right there.” Her arm brushed his, and the contact sent warm shivers over his skin. She eyed him, then stepped back. “Let her rip whenever you’re ready.”

  He glanced down the way at the canopy of green over the lively creek. Patches of orange and yellow were finally peeking through after a long, lingering summer that had lasted most of October. If he’d been married now, he’d probably be headed home to a discussion of what had gone on at the Officers’ Spouses Club meeting, which vegetables had been on sale at Winn-Dixie, and if the chicken was too dry. He’d probably be tired and half-bored, but attentive because that was what husbands were supposed to be.

  And he wouldn’t have ever met Kaci Boudreaux.

  The brilliant beauty queen who made redneck sexy as hell.

  He hit the switch to fire the igniter. On the third try, it lit.

  A swift shoomp sent reverberations up his arms. The potato sailed over the leafy canopy, a spud rocket r
acing toward infinity.

  Kaci whooped. “Beautiful shot!”

  He lost sight of it beyond the trees. The thing had to have gone four or five hundred yards.

  Lighthearted peace took up residence in his chest.

  “Feel better?” she asked with a broad grin that lit her blue eyes and put a shade of pink in her round cheeks.

  Damn. She was right.

  He did feel better.

  “Hate to tell you, but I think you’re wrong,” he said.

  One hand went to her hip, and that stubborn pout took up residence on her lips. “I don’t mind being wrong when I’m wrong, but—”

  “This isn’t a potato gun. It’s a freaking cannon.”

  She blinked. “Hush on up and reload. I got midterm reports to work on and I miss my cat.”

  Yeah, that was totally worth risking getting a potato chucked at his head. He set the spud launcher on the ground and went back for a second potato.

  No hesitation, he loaded it up and carved a notch to shove in Allison’s diamond ring. “You do this after your divorce?”

  She laughed. “And more, sugar. And more.”

  “How long ago did you leave him?”

  “Little over two years.” She settled onto the creek bank, no obvious worries over getting her jeans dirty or mud under her fingernails. “And he left me.”

  “He—”

  “Yes, yes, he left me. And I can admit it.”

  He shoved the diamond-laden potato down the barrel. “Must’ve been some damn good revenge you got.”

  “By the time I moved here, it wasn’t about revenge. It was about settling where I belonged and taking care of me and Miss Higgs.” She grinned. “But now you can say you know someone legally banned from using a blowtorch in Colorado.”

  As if he needed another warning about getting on her bad side.

  But the funny thing was, he wasn’t worried about Kaci and revenge.

  He was more worried about why he couldn’t stay away. “Think I can hit that tree with this one?”

  “I sure as heck couldn’t.” She tucked her legs up to her chest. “And I never would’ve admitted that to Ol’ Grandpappy.”

  He did a double take.

  Was she talking about—

  She grinned wide. “Not too much fuel there or you’ll have French fries.”