Rebel Soul: (Rebel Series Book 1) ((Rebel Series))

by J. C. Hannigan

  She took advantage of the moment, leaning forward and drawing my hardness into her mouth. I let out a hiss as she bobbed against me, taking my length in as far as it would go. “Jesus, Tessa. I won’t be able to last at that rate.”

  She pulled her mouth away from my cock and I ached at the absence of her warm mouth. “We’ve got all night,” she said sinfully, giving me a sinister smile.

  * * *

  Afterwards, we lay in my bed together. The gentle rise and fall of Tessa’s chest against me had me believing she’d fallen asleep in my arms.

  I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t stop thinking about her, about how good it felt to hold her like this in my arms…in my bed or about how it was all I never knew I wanted and needed.

  I was in deep shit.

  What did you expect? I thought, frowning. You knew there was something different about this girl. You knew there was a very real possibility you’d develop feelings for her.

  But I hadn’t counted on it happening so quickly or to this degree. I hadn’t counted on her brother wanting to pick up where our friendship had left off. I also hadn’t counted on him trying to hold me to some stupid promise we’d made to each other years ago.

  I’d always known that Tessa’s family would pose a challenge, but I still thought we could have had what we had without letting anyone know. Now, I realized how wrong I was. I wanted everyone to know she was mine. I wanted to take her out around town without worrying about the shit-storm that would ensue. I wanted everyone who came anywhere near her to know she was with me. I wanted her to know I’d defend her and protect her.

  “Does it intimidate you?” Tessa’s quiet voice startled me from my thoughts. For a fraction of a second, I worried that I’d spoken aloud.

  “Does what intimidate me?” I asked, not catching her meaning.

  She lifted her head and looked at me, drawing her bottom lip in and trapping it with her teeth. “Us. This…thing.” She gestured to the two of us. “Do you think things between us are moving too quickly?”

  I moved my fingers against the small of her back, tracing a small pattern as I thought. “Yes and no.”

  “That’s not really an answer.” She arched a brow, vulnerability crossing her features. The smile I gave her made that vulnerability vanish.

  “We’re adults, Tessa. Adults have consensual sex. The fact that I’m deeply attracted to you and want to have lots of consensual sex with you doesn’t mean things are moving too quickly,” I told her, shrugging. “This does intimidate me, yes, because I’ve never had it this bad before. I’ve never wanted to give someone the ‘girlfriend’ label; I’ve never wanted them to spend the night just so I could hold them in my arms…” I let my voice fall into silence. I couldn’t tell her the rest of it; that I wasn’t sure if I could keep us a secret, or for how long. The kind of chemistry between us was intense and obvious. I’d have to be very careful around her. Hell, even the mention of her had me in a tailspin.

  “Same.” She exhaled and was silent for a few more seconds, her warm breath fluttering across the skin across my rib cage. “So…what happens when I go to college?”

  “You go to college.” I smiled, kissing her head. “I’ll visit you whenever. Hell, it might be easier to keep it a secret then. We could actually go out in public and not worry about running into any of your family members with loaded shotguns.”

  Tessa laughed, her shoulders shaking as the rest of her unease disappeared. “That’s true,” she said, yawning.

  “Get some sleep,” I said, holding her closer. I fell asleep shortly after her, escaping into dreams that were just as sweet as the reality I’d made with her.

  * * *

  The next morning came before I wanted it to. I knew the arrival of a new day would mean Tessa would have to leave. That didn’t stop me from taking her again, with her hair still a tangled mess from the night before. It didn’t stop me from kissing her hard against her truck before I finally let her climb in and go, either.

  I couldn’t get enough of this girl. She could be my downfall and I’d be perfectly okay with that.

  I had a lot of things on my to-do list and none of them were at the cabin. I was in limbo now; I had a meeting with Gordon tonight to discuss me possibly hiring him. In the meantime, there wasn’t anything else I could do.

  But there was plenty of stuff for me to do at the family house.

  I loaded up Hunter and made a quick stop at the local hardware store for supplies. I bought outdoor wood paint and ordered a bunch of shingles to be delivered and installed next week.

  When I got to the house, I set to work immediately. I found the lawn mower and weed whacker in the shed where they’d always been. Despite the lack of use, they worked just fine. I started on the yard, moving all of Aiden’s toys before cutting the grass.

  Then I set up a work bench in front of the garage and took off the shutters so I could put on a fresh coat of paint. Once the first coat was drying, I went to pull weeds from the front gardens. I wasn’t a gardener, but the weeds had overtaken everything. I pulled them all, shoving them into the brown bags I’d picked up.

  I’d long since abandoned my shirt, and sweat was dripping down my spine. I was hot and day dreaming of diving into the lake.

  “BROCK!” I looked up, seeing Becky standing on the front porch with her hands on her hips. “Did you not hear me calling you?”

  “No, obviously, or I would have responded,” I answered, my eyes narrowed. “What’s up?”

  The annoyance faded from Becky’s face. “I’ve made lunch. Come in for a minute, eat something. Hydrate. You’ve been at it for six hours now.”

  “Six hours?” My brow furrowed and I swallowed hard. I hadn’t even realized time had passed that quickly.

  “Yeah, six hours. Aiden’s been watching, waiting for you to come in and say hi.” Becky tilted her head, concerned. I ignored her worry and walked over to the lawn mower. I’d draped my sweaty shirt over the handles to dry it out a little.

  “Are you sure he’s waiting for me?” I joked, looking back at Hunter. He was sleeping beneath the shade of the old oak tree. As if he knew we were talking about him, he opened his eyes and lazily raised his head. I clicked my tongue at him and he slowly got up, stretching his limbs before he pranced over to us.

  “Okay, so he wanted to see Hunter. Don’t be jealous.” Becky smiled, leading the way into the cool house. The air conditioning was welcome against my hot skin. “We set a bowl of water out for Hunter,” she added, gesturing towards the kitchen. But Hunter had already found it and was greedily lapping it up.

  “Uncle Brock!” Aiden’s little voice hit my ears just as his arms wrapped around my legs. “We made sandwiches! My favourite kind, ham and cheese!”

  “That’s my favourite kind too,” I told him, ruffling his hair.

  “Can I go pet Hunter now?” he asked eagerly, his blue eyes lighting up.

  “Just wait until after lunch, okay? You don’t want to have to wash your hands again,” Becky interjected before I could reply. “Come on, let’s eat.”

  “Where’s Braden today?” I asked, sitting down. “And how come he hasn’t been keeping up the outside of this place?”

  “He works a lot,” Becky explained. “At the mechanic’s. When he’s not working, he’s usually with Elle.”

  “Hmm…” I frowned.

  “He’s still a kid, Brock. Go easy on him. He hasn’t taken this well at all,” Becky lectured, her eyes drifting to the hallway where the bedrooms were, where our mom was slowly fading away. “Kind of like someone else I know?”

  “I get it, I do,” I managed. “But cutting the grass a little more often isn’t asking much.”

  Becky looked at me pointedly, but said nothing. She turned her attention to Aiden. He’d been trying to sneak pieces of his sandwich to Hunter, but Hunter was trained not to take any food unless given instruction and Aiden was caught red-handed with a guilty look on his face. “He looks hungry, Mama!”

  “I’m s
ure he isn’t,” Becky argued, arching a brow at me.

  “Nope, he had his breakfast this morning. Hunter eats in the morning and in the evening. Dogs perpetually look hungry though, because they’d eat anything you’ll give them.”

  “Why didn’t Hunter eat the sandwich?” Aiden asked, sounding disappointed. “Does he not like ham?”

  “Oh no, he likes ham a lot. But he’s trained to not touch it unless I tell him he can.” I felt a little guilty that my nephew was taking this as a personal slight. I looked at Becky pleadingly.

  “Fine, just the crust,” she said, rolling her eyes.

  * * *

  The last thing I wanted to do was meet up with Gordon, especially after the night before and the morning I’d had with Tessa. But I’d promised him and I knew if I didn’t follow through, he’d come to me. I couldn’t risk him showing up when Tessa was there.

  Begrudgingly, I made my way to O’Riley’s bar.

  O’Riley’s had been around for almost a century now, always run by someone in the O’Riley clan. It was aged with dingy lighting and old, dirty hardwood floors that were perpetually sticky from spilled beverages and blood-stained from the infamous bar fights that had occurred over the years.

  I wasn’t surprised to see that it was still open. The bar had been around since 1925, and although it had seen limited upgrades and updates since then, the kitchen and bathrooms were always spotless and up-to-date. Countless bars and clubs attempted to open in Parry Sound, but none of them stuck. O’Riley’s offered cheaper drinks, pool tables that didn’t cost per game, and darts. Not to mention it was a piece of history. This had been the local watering hole for ninety years. Plus, O’Riley’s had the best wings in town.

  I spent a lot of time in this bar as a kid. My dad would take me out supposedly for a “father and son day” and our first stop was always O’Riley’s so the old man could “whet his whistle”.

  It was often our only stop.

  While the bar itself held no good memories for me, Mick O’Riley had never been anything but kind. He’d slip me food under the guise that the kitchen had cooked too much and he kept an eye on me. I knew Mick didn’t like my dad, but not many people in this town did. Mick was stuck between a rock and a hard place: you didn’t meddle with other people’s business around here and my old man was one of his best customers.

  I hadn’t set foot in O’Riley’s since I was ten years old. That was the last time my dad bothered with the excuses and the weak attempts at hiding his drinking problem. That was the year that he stopped being just a drunk and started being abusive as well.

  Squaring my shoulders, I walked into the old bar. Mick was still behind the old oak bar, his dark hair now completely gray and his rough face wrinkled and worn. His bright eyes still sparkled. They were always a contradiction, light and happy while the rest of him was as tough as an Irish bartender could be.

  I nodded at him in greeting and peered around, searching for Gordon. O’Riley’s wasn’t exploding with bodies, but it was pretty crowded for a Tuesday night. I found him sitting at one of the old, worn booths. He had a mug of beer in his hand and an empty pitcher before him. Grady and Travis sat with him, nursing their beers.

  Suppressing a sigh, I walked over. My work boots thudded heavily against the old floor, announcing my arrival. The three guys from my youth looked up, each of them grinning.

  “Brock! Buddy! It’s about time you showed up!”

  “Yeah, sorry,” I said, sliding in beside Grady. I sent Gordon a curious look. “I thought we were going to talk business?”

  “We will,” Gordon replied, waving his hand dismissively. “That won’t take long at all. Figured we’d get together while we were at it, just like old times.”

  I nodded and tried to relax my stiff posture. It wasn’t like Gordon was a mind reader or a bloodhound. He didn’t know I’d been spending a lot of time with Tessa lately, or that I intended on continuing to spend time with her.

  Gordon turned around, facing the bar. “Yo! O’Riley! Can we get another round of beer?” he shouted. Mick raised his hand in acknowledgment and went about filling another pitcher. He grabbed a cold mug from the freezer and brought both over on a tray. He walked with a limp, barely bending his left leg at the knee. Despite his gait, he didn’t spill a droplet of beer.

  “Brock,” he said gruffly, nodding at me. ”How are you doing these days?” he asked, concern lining those light eyes as he cleared away the empty pitcher on the table. He was probably the only one in this goddamn town that didn’t completely hate me.

  “I’m good,” I replied honestly, giving him a warm smile. “How are you doing?” I added, looking down at his leg.

  “Oh, I’m alright.” Mick laughed roughly. He had the laugh of a man who’d spent the greater half of his life smoking. “Just getting old is all. A little stiff leg never hurt nobody. Need anything else, fellas?”

  “How about some of those wings?” I asked, my stomach rumbling. I hadn’t eaten much in the last twenty-four hours.

  “Of course.” Mick nodded, his eyes twinkling. “I’ll send some right over,” he added before turning around and hobbling towards the kitchen to alert his cook.

  Fifteen minutes later, our table demolished forty of O’Riley’s hottest wings. We cooled the burning sensation in our throats with beer, making short work of the entire pitcher. Mick brought over a fresh one without any prompting from Gordon.

  Conversation around the table flowed easily, mostly led by the others. I kept to the background, smiling and nodding on occasion each time they brought up a funny story about the past. It was nice to sit with my old friends again, to pretend for a fraction of a minute that my life wasn’t as fucked up and out of control as it was. It was nice to escape for a little while, in what limited good memories I had of my past.

  “So, let’s talk business,” Gordon declared half an hour later, leaning back against the booth and fixing me with a serious gaze. Travis and Grady took the cue to leave us, hedging that they were going to play a few games of pool. “Can I take a look at the blueprints?”

  I shoved them over to him and picked up my mug, taking a slow sip while I watched his face.

  “It’s a pretty simple design. Two bedrooms, a living room and kitchen…” he trailed off, nodding in approval. “You just want one bathroom? Are you sure about that? We could make an ensuite.” He looked up at me, waiting for my answer.

  “What would I need an ensuite for?” I countered.

  “You won’t always live alone,” Gordon pointed out, smirking. “And even if you do, when you eventually go to sell the place, an ensuite amps up the price.”

  “It’s a cabin in the forest near a lake on 80 acres. The price will be outrageous as is.” I massaged my temples, trying to control my irritation. “Besides, the concrete is already poured for the current square footage.”

  “Alright.” Gordon raised his hands in defeat. His eyes twinkled with mischief. “But you could always lay down more concrete. Why don’t you just let me show you what I have in mind?”

  He didn’t bother waiting for me to reply. He just pulled out a notebook and started drawing. He changed the flow of the rooms, drawing the kitchen and living room with an open concept and hanging the bedrooms to the east, unlike my original plans. “Don’t worry, it’ll all fit onto the concrete you’ve already laid out. You won’t even need to change your permit,” he said, showing me what he’d done.

  I had to admit, it was a lot better than my original plan. “Fine, whatever. That works.”

  “Don’t sound so excited.” Gordon looked put out.

  “Sorry, man.” I sighed, scratching the stubble on my jaw. “Just going through some shit.”

  “How’s your mom doing?” he asked.

  “Hanging in there for now,” I replied, looking away. My jaw clenched in aggravation. I didn’t want to talk about my mom right now.

  “I heard Tessa is going to start babysitting for Becky soon.” My gaze flitted back to his face and
I quickly tried to mask my surprise.

  “What?”

  “Yeah,” Gordon said, carefully watching me. “I guess Ben’s wife knows your sister, and told Tessa about the babysitting job. Tessa’s been talking to Becky and she’s supposed to start soon.”

  “Huh,” I said, keeping my expression and tone natural. Inside, I was twisted with complicated emotions that I couldn’t even name. Why hadn’t she told me this herself?

  “I worry about her.” Gordon leaned forward, his eyes intense. “I worry that this will hit her hard. She’s never had a job like this before, working around someone whose…well, you know.”

  “Yeah, I know,” I muttered, my brow furrowing. It was unsurprising that Gordon would be worried about his sister when my mom was dying, but I understood too. I was worried, but for different reasons. I didn’t want Tessa to witness this. I didn’t want her to see what happened behind closed doors. I didn’t want her to see that part of me. It was as if I was afraid that my past would be etched on those walls and she’d be able to see it all simply by being there.

  “What I said earlier still stands,” Gordon reminded me, arching a brow. “Even if she’s going to be helping Becky out.”

  “Right, well…” I stood up, grabbing the blueprints off the table. Gordon’s hand shot out, stopping me.

  “Look, man, I’m sorry. That was a dick thing to say. All of it was. But you know me.”

  “No offense, Gordon, but I don’t feel like working with someone who is going to be cautioning me to stay away from his sister every five minutes. I don’t need that kind of bullshit drama. I just want to build the fucking cabin.”

  Building the cabin had become an obsession. I hated half-finished projects, probably because that was all I’d known growing up, all my old man had been capable of. I couldn’t think until this cabin was built. I felt like it was just something I needed to do. It was how I needed to focus my energy so I didn’t fall completely apart regarding everything that was happening back home.