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

by J. C. Hannigan

  “I know.” Gordon stood up. “And I promise I’ll stop with the warnings and reminders. Hell, I won’t even talk about her at all. It’ll just be work.”

  I stared at him, contemplating. I did need the help. I wasn’t clueless, but I wasn’t exactly a carpenter.

  “Fine. When can you start?”

  “Monday, actually.” Gordon grinned. “I’ll give you a deal, too.”

  “Alright, fine. See you Monday.” I sighed, grabbing the blueprints.

  Tessa

  Becky Miller called me when I was doing chores and left a voicemail, asking me to call her. I paced my bedroom, staring at the number. I had meant to talk to Brock when I was over at his house the other day, but our evening had distracted me. Actually, I’d meant to talk to him about a lot of things, about Gordon knowing what happened that night with Ezra’s cousin and about this babysitting opportunity.

  I wasn’t sure if Brock would want me to babysit his nephew. He’d only just started opening up about his past to me, and even then, it wasn’t like he’d given me the whole history. I could tell he was still holding back a lot.

  I peered out the window to check for Gordon’s truck in our driveway, just to double check. He and his crew had started working on Brock’s cabin this week, which meant I was going to have to be extra careful about planning my visits. It was parked in its usual spot and I let out a sigh of relief, firing out a quick text to Brock.

  Feel like company?

  He responded a couple of minutes later. Of course!

  With that, I turned on my heel and headed out of my room. Gordon, Tommy, and my dad were sitting around in the living room, watching some kind of documentary on the History Channel.

  “Where are you off to at this hour, Tessa?” Dad asked, peering up from the TV to address me.

  “I need to go to the store,” I answered, crossing my arms and leaning against the doorframe.

  “What for?” Gordon asked, as per usual, weaseling his way into the conversation.

  “To get female supplies. You know, tampons and stuff?”

  “Okay, ew. Didn’t need to know that.” He grimaced and turned his attention back to the TV.

  “That’s what you get for being nosy.” I shrugged, smirking to myself.

  The drive to Brock’s house didn’t take very long. I pulled up to see him grilling on his barbeque with Hunter lying at his side. No matter where he was, his dog wasn’t far. I thought it was endearing, the bond he had with that dog. It reminded me of my bond with Spirit.

  My thoughts danced back to our trail ride today. Elle had been busy and unable to accompany me, and I’d saved Spirit for last. I’d ridden him through the wooded trails my mother had made, thinking about the woman I only knew from the memories of others. These trails were another way for me to know her, or at least a small part of her. She could have chosen any pathway through the woods, yet she’d chosen to make this route her trail. I couldn’t help but wonder why.

  I shook my head, clearing the memories as I stepped out of my truck and walked towards the barbeque. I supposed Hunter had long since gotten used to the sound of my truck; he barely moved an inch when I pulled up. “What are you cooking?” I asked Brock, coming to a stop beside him.

  “Steak,” he answered, grinning. “And baked potatoes.”

  “What, no vegetables?” I joked, petting Hunter behind the ears.

  “Didn’t know I was having company.” Brock shrugged, closing the lid of the barbeque. He turned to face me and an unreadable look crossed his features. It was as if he had things to say, but was stuck on how to phrase them.

  I stepped towards him and his arms lifted to embrace me. He pulled me against him and I sighed, the familiar scent of him calming all of my frazzled nerves and easing the worries that chewed at me.

  “I’ve already eaten, so don’t worry about feeding me. I just came here to see you…and to talk,” I said, my voice muffled by his chest.

  “About?” Brock released me and I pulled myself onto the wooden picnic table he’d gotten sometime during the last few days.

  “Nice table,” I remarked, arching a brow.

  “Yeah, I figured it’d be good to have with the crew around. Somewhere to sit down for breaks.”

  “Makes sense,” I hedged. I took a moment to draw in a calming breath. “So my brother, Ben? He’s married to Katie, whose parents, as you probably know, own the grocery store that Becky works at. Anyway, she told me that Becky needs a sitter and then told me she’d give her my number.”

  “I know,” Brock said simply, the right corner of his lip lifting in half a smile.

  “Oh, really?” I exhaled the breath I’d been holding, my brows furrowing.

  “Yeah. Gordon mentioned it the other night.”

  “Oh, right. So…you’d be okay with that?” I couldn’t help but worry.

  Brock looked up at me, those steel eyes locking with mine. “Why wouldn’t I be okay with that?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe because we haven’t really talked about that whole thing yet,” I babbled nervously. Those intense eyes were making me unravel and lose my train of thought. I tried to break away, but I couldn’t. They captivated me, keeping me grounded.

  “What whole thing?” He gave me another half-smile and stalked towards me, his eyes never leaving mine.

  “The meet the family one…”

  “You’ve already met my family,” he said simply, coming to a stop before me. He stood between my knees and placed each of his hands on my thighs. “At the community bonfire,” he added, reminding me.

  “Oh, right. I just meant…” I faltered, trying to grasp my ability to speak. The words seemed to evaporate on my tongue, melted by the glare of heat radiating from Brock’s eyes.

  He gave me a gentle smile and brought his lips closer to mine. “I know what you meant,” he muttered, his breath warm against my face. I squirmed, the heat pooling between my legs. “And don’t worry. If you’re fine with it, I’m fine with it,” he added before his lips pressed against mine.

  I responded to the pleasant onslaught, giving myself over to him completely. My body arched against his, desperate for his touch. His hands went to unbutton my shorts. The action brought me back to the now and I broke the kiss. I was breathless, trying to control my reaction to him. “I can’t,” I said, smiling apologetically. I was surprised that Brock didn’t immediately ask why not, or pout about it. He just looked at me through heavy lidded eyes, the desire evident not only from his expression but the huge bulge pressed against my inner thigh. “Not this week, anyway.”

  “Gotcha.” He winked. He sniffed at the air and frowned. “Shit,” he added, leaving me quickly to return to the barbeque. He flipped the lid over and used the spatula to turn the steaks.

  “Did you burn them?” I chuckled, shaking my head at him. At least he was as equally affected by me as I was him.

  “Nope, they’re good.” He grinned at me from over his shoulder.

  I sighed regretfully, standing up. “Well, I have to go.”

  Disappointment lined Brock’s features, but he nodded with understanding. “When will I see you again?”

  “I’m not going to be much fun this week,” I pointed out, a small frown touching my lips.

  His expression changed again and he stalked over to me. “I’m not only focused on that, Tessa…although I won’t lie, the feeling of your tight pussy around my cock is one of the greatest feelings in the world. I want to spend time with you; I don’t care what we’re doing.”

  I inhaled sharply, my heart jolting in my chest. Brock’s delivery was the perfect amount of sexed up sweetness that could easily sweep a girl off her feet. “Well then, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  * * *

  When I got home that night, it was too late to talk to Becky; I had to wait until the following morning to return her call. Even though I’d met her, my heart still pounded frantically in my chest when I dialed her number. Each ring, while I waited for her to pick up, was li
ke an exclamation point.

  Aside from working on the farm, I’d never had a job before. Not an official one, anyway. Even if it was only babysitting, at least it was steady work outside of the farm. It was still nerve wracking, especially knowing all that I knew about Becky and her history, and knowing what the Millers were going through now.

  “I’m running low on time, so I’ll cut to the chase. Katie has nothing but good things to say about you and I know my brothers like you too. Elle swears you’re dependable and responsible. Since we’ve already met each other at the bonfire, I don’t really feel the need to do that awkward ‘come over and meet the kid’. If you’re comfortable with just starting, you’re more than welcome to do that.” Becky’s voice was strong and sure, direct and purposeful. I knew she was young, but the authority and wisdom in her voice made her seem older.

  “Yeah, I’m totally fine with that,” I responded, sitting down on the edge of my bed.

  “Awesome,” Becky said on an exhale, the relief palpable. “Is there any chance that you could be here at ten? I work until eight tonight. Go figure, the sitter you’ll be replacing… bailed again.”

  “I could swing that,” I answered. Becky rattled off an address, and I scribbled it onto the back of the old envelope from Georgian College that had contained my acceptance letter. I shoved it in my back pocket and hung up my phone.

  I had just enough time to prepare dinner before I left. I tossed a seasoned roast in the crock pot and chopped up some carrots and onions. Dad walked in when I was putting the lid on the pot.

  “Where are you off to in such a hurry?” he asked.

  “I start my new babysitting job today,” I told him. “I need to be there at ten.”

  “What time will you be home?” he questioned, grabbing a mug from the cupboard to pour himself coffee.

  “She said she works until 8, but I’m not sure how long it takes her to get home…or if she runs errands or anything…” I trailed off, worrying my lip.

  “That’s alright. I think we’ll survive at dinner,” Dad remarked.

  I glanced towards the crock pot and laughed. “When I go off to college, you’re all going to have to learn how to cook.”

  “Can’t be that hard,” Dad argued, a smile softening the hard edges of his face. He went to speak again, but I cut him off.

  “And barbequing everything doesn’t count.”

  Dad chuckled, shaking his head. “Have a good day,” he told me. His eyes searched mine, his brow furrowing slightly. I knew he wanted to lecture me, likely about staying away from the oldest Miller boy and was warring with himself. After all, he’d promised that he would ease up on the protective father routine. He knew I was growing up; he knew I needed to make my own decisions, but he also knew I needed this job and that I wanted it.

  I leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, not giving him the opportunity to talk. “Thanks, you too!” I said over my shoulder, exiting through the side door.

  I drove to the Miller’s house, pulling up against the curb out front. The smell of freshly mowed grass and paint greeted me when I stepped outside. All of the weeds had been cleared from the front gardens, a limited selection of freshly planted flowers scattered haphazardly about. The shutters that had hung off at odd angles were fixed and had a new coat of black paint. Even the old wooden door had a face lift; it now matched the shutters for the first time ever.

  I’d driven past the Miller house a few times the last few years, dropping Elle off or picking her up. It hadn’t been this well-tended to in all that time. I had a feeling Brock had something to do with the new improvements.

  I walked up the front steps and knocked against the freshly painted wooden door. Becky opened up, dressed in her grocery store uniform. She smiled at me with relief. “Tessa! I’m so glad you could start today. Come in! Aiden’s just watching some cartoons and having a snack.” She stood aside, allowing me entrance to the tiny bungalow. “Aiden, do you remember Tessa from the bonfire?” Becky asked, directing her question to her dark-haired son.

  Aiden looked up from the television, his blue eyes landing on me. “Is that Uncle Brock’s girlfriend?”

  Becky laughed, shaking her head. “Sorry about that. Kids say the darndest things,” she said to me before turning back to him. “They’re just friends, Aiden.”

  “She gave us chili and Uncle Brock said she was hot,” Aiden said matter-of-factly.

  “He probably said the chili was hot,” I corrected, my face flushing. Becky didn’t seem bothered by it though. She sent me an amused look and shrugged.

  “Well, come on. I have just enough time to give you a quick tour,” she said, leading me in to the worn kitchen. “Aiden will probably want chicken nuggets and French fries for lunch. You can find both in the freezer. I’m sure you know how to use an oven, so I won’t bother you with instructions. He can have juice, but only if it’s watered down… otherwise you’ll have a kid with way too much energy on your hands,” she explained, rolling her eyes. The smile on her face was full of love for her child. “He doesn’t nap, unfortunately, but he’ll watch a movie and have some quiet time after lunch. I’ve made a casserole for dinner; all you need to do is heat it up. After dinner, he has a bath and goes to bed at seven.”

  I nodded, absorbing this information. “Okay, that sounds easy enough.”

  Becky nodded, moving from the kitchen and down the hall. She stopped in front of a child’s bedroom. “This is Aiden’s room. He knows where to find his pajamas and anything else he needs. There’s a park around the corner if you get bored of the backyard, and all of the emergency contact numbers are listed on the refrigerator.” Becky turned, walking back down the hallway. She paused at a partially closed door and peered inside. “Oh! Mom…I didn’t know you were up!” she exclaimed, pushing open the door and walking all the way inside. She motioned for me to come in. My heart was pounding in my chest, but I obeyed her, slowly walking the rest of the way into the room.

  The air smelled stale and sterile, like that of a hospital. It made a swell of panic rise in the pit of my stomach. I swallowed hard, trying to breathe through my mouth and not my nose.

  “Hi, dear.” The voice that answered her was fragile and wispy, almost undetectable to my ears. Had I still been in the hallway, I likely wouldn’t have heard her at all. “Who’s this?”

  “This is Tessa Armstrong,” Becky explained. “She’s going to babysit Aiden while I’m working today.”

  Mrs. Miller was every bit as frail as her voice. She gave me an exhausted, pained smile. “Don’t worry, I’m not much trouble.”

  I smiled shyly, not knowing what to say or how to act. Picking up on my discomfort, Becky took charge. “Do you need anything before I go?” she asked.

  Mrs. Miller shook her head in response. “I’m just going to close my eyes for a bit,” she whispered, her lids fluttering.

  Becky and I left the bedroom and she slowly closed the door before turning to me. “The nurse, Beth-Anne, will be here in half an hour anyway,” she explained. “She won’t need anything in the meantime, but if…if she does, just call Beth-Anne and she’ll hurry over. Okay?”

  “Okay.” I nodded, trying to remain calm. Becky gave me a tiny smile and turned around, heading back down the hallway to the kitchen. She picked up her purse and disappeared in the living room to kiss her son goodbye.

  “I’ll sneak in and give you kisses when I get home,” I heard her saying as I joined them in the living room.

  Aiden nodded solemnly, his little arms around his mother’s neck. “Bye, Mommy,” he said.

  She straightened up and ruffled his hair. “Alright, off I go. Remember, the numbers are on the refrigerator if you need them,” Becky told me, her eyes fixed on mine as if she was drilling this information into my brain.

  * * *

  The day passed quickly. After Beth-Anne arrived, we headed outside to play in the backyard until lunch time. I made chicken nuggets and French fries, and he ate everything on his plate. T
hen we curled up on the couch to watch a movie together. After quiet time, Aiden asked if we could go to the park. We stayed there until four o’clock then I lured him back home so I could toss the casserole in the oven.

  Beth-Anne was nice, but she mostly stayed in the bedroom with Mrs. Miller. She knitted or read her novel whenever Mrs. Miller slept, which was a lot. Any time she woke up coughing or gasping for air, Beth-Anne was at her side to administer pain medication and offer her water.

  Dinner was ready and cooling on the stovetop when I hesitantly approached the bedroom and knocked. Beth-Anne looked up from her chair and gave me a warm smile. “Yes, dear?”

  “Dinner is ready…I wasn’t sure if you guys wanted any?” I said, glancing towards Mrs. Miller. She was awake, her tired eyes watching me curiously.

  “I don’t suppose you feel like a small plate, huh Deanna?” Beth-Anne smiled hopefully at Mrs. Miller.

  “I’ll pass. Becky never did really learn how to cook,” Deanna joked. She started to cough lightly, as if her throat was raw from talking.

  I gave her a small smile, my heart aching a little. I didn’t know this woman, but she was clearly in pain and suffering and she was Brock’s mom.

  Beth-Anne chuckled. “Oh, Deanna, that’s not very nice. She tries,” she scolded. “I’ll have a plate,” Beth-Anne added, glancing at me with warmth.

  I was dishing the casserole out onto three plates when the front door opened and Aiden let out an excited squeal from the living room. I peered up, my brow creased in a frown until I saw who Aiden was so excited for.

  The little boy had his arms wrapped around Hunter’s thick neck. Brock was standing in the foyer, a grin on his lips as he watched his nephew with his dog. His hair was wet from the shower, and he was dressed in his usual uniform of jeans and a t-shirt. This time, his t-shirt was a dark gray that made his eyes appear even more smoky and dark.