The Rebel's Return (Red River) (3 page)

“Quick, pick up your flyer and pretend we’re reading it,” she whispered as the bells on top of the door jingled. She held the glossy mailer with her friend’s cute smiling face too close to her eyes, so much that she was sure she was appearing cross-eyed. She knew Sabrina was doing the same. It was the clearest of snubs, and so juvenile. Yet the approaching, steady footsteps told her that the snubbed could not care less.

“Sorry, sir, we’re closed,” she called out while Sabrina gasped theatrically. She didn’t lower the mailer, but the shadow that crossed it, combined with the hum that started through her body, told her that Aiden was now standing in front of their table.

“Sir? Really?”

She stood, “Just trying to offer polite customer service to all our patrons regardless of previous behavior. Also, you’re interrupting an important business meeting.”

She ignored Sabrina’s choking.

He had the audacity to flash them both a smile that made her pulse race faster than any bad jogging attempt ever had.

He turned to her. “Hi, Sabrina. How are you?”

Sabrina sat up a little straighter and tossed her hair over her shoulder. God bless her friend for attempting to look normal. “Fine. Totally fine. Nice to see you again.”

“You, too.”

Aiden looked back at her, amused by the two of them no doubt.

She stood and marched past him to the door, tugging on her shirt, wishing it was longer, or wishing that she wasn’t wearing leggings, or that she had stuck with the jogging thing. Well, whatever, it didn’t matter, because he didn’t matter. She stood next to the door, holding the lock at the top. “You can go ahead and leave. I’ll be sure to lock up behind you.”

He gave her an adorable half smile that caused his dimple to appear, which then resulted in her palms sweating. She really needed to start scoping out available men in Red River. There had to be other people that could evoke this kind of unwanted bodily reaction in her. It couldn’t just be Aiden who could do this to her. “Somehow I find it hard to imagine you two having a business meeting.”

Well, at least his smugness managed to dampen her reaction. She raised her eyebrows and refused to look anywhere other than the small crease in his forehead. “Oh really? Why?”

He propped his shoulder against the wall and crossed his arms across his chest, settling in with the confidence of a lion. “Well, first of all, neither of you were even speaking. I have never seen the two of you go longer than five seconds in the same room without talking.”

Sabrina laughed, clearly falling for Aiden’s charming smile and teasing. She glared over her shoulder at her friend. Sabrina gave her a loyal nod and lifted up the mailer.

“That’s patronizing. We’re completely different from the girls we were.”

“Neither of you have changed a bit, and that’s a compliment.”

“Thanks,” Sabrina said, looking all flushed.

Natalia rolled her eyes. “Why are you here?”

“I came for cannoli.”

She pursed her lips. So he came here for food. How about an apology for breaking her freaking heart? For betrayal? “Nope. Sorry. None left.”

His gaze darted past hers to the counter, no doubt zeroing in on the cannoli displayed on a silver stand under the lights. “I see at least a dozen right there.”

She crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes on him as his gaze dipped to her breasts.

He tilted his chin, smirk in place. “So what do Italians do better, Nat?”

She leaned forward. “Lots of things. Things you’ll never know about.”

He pushed off the wall and leaned in close. She would have backed up, but she didn’t want to look as though he was phasing her. Of course, he totally was. Because now, she caught the clean, crisp smell of him. She saw the lighter blue flecks in his eyes. She could feel the heat emanating off his tall, hard body. “Well, maybe one day I can find out.”

Her heart thumped in a painfully slow rhythm, and she tried not to respond to the look in his eyes, or the huskiness in his voice. She needed to get him out of here. She cleared her throat and looked up at him. “I don’t think so.”

He flicked his chin in the direction of the counter. “Ah. Well, in that case, why don’t you sell me a dozen cannoli?”

“Nope. Store’s closed. It goes against store policy.”

“But you run the store.”

She didn’t appreciate the patronizing tone, nor did she like the way he spoke really slowly. “Exactly. It goes against my policy.”

He ran his hand over his jaw and she could have sworn she heard some kind of grumbling. “What policy is that?”

“Cheaters. I don’t sell cannoli to adulterers.”

His jaw started ticking, and she was somewhat satisfied. He looked away for a minute and clenched his jaw tightly. She took that moment when he wasn’t looking to admire—well, not admire, more observe—how well he’d aged. All that lanky muscle had filled out, leaving him looking hard and formidable. Except for his mouth. That was still pure sweetness.
His disgruntled expression only seemed to enhance the badass aura that he still pulled off so well, even years later. He shoved a hand into the front pocket of his jeans. Jeans, she sadly realized, were still his trademark. She was pleased to see that his jaw hadn’t relaxed yet. Not pleased to see the attractive stubble, or the hard, chiseled line of said jaw, but it was nice to know she was making him angry.

God, she was an idiot.

He sighed roughly. “That was a long time ago.”

She shrugged. “There are certain things a girl doesn’t forget.”

The dimple went into hiding, replaced by incessant jaw ticking. “So you’re never going to forgive me for something that happened a helluva long time ago? We’ve both moved on. We were practically kids, Nat.”

That was the pathetic, tragic part of all of it. She had tried to move on. And had only wound up with another guy cheating on her. She had been publicly humiliated twice. The first time, with Aiden, her heart had been completely broken. The second time, with Franco, it had been her pride more than anything, because she hadn’t really loved him, and he’d cheated on her with her own cousin.

“Why does it look like smoke is about to come out of your ears?”

She touched her hand to her chest, trying to look shocked and cool and collected, nothing like the person he was describing. “Smoke? No, no, you’ve mistaken my expression. It was disgust. For the entire male gender for being unable to remain faithful or have any sense of decency.”

His brows snapped together, and he scowled. Looks like she had successfully pissed him off.

“Who hurt you?”

Her mouth dropped open, and her heart squeezed so tightly in her chest that she couldn’t breathe. She thought he was mad at what she’d said. Instead he was standing there looking all hot and tough and angry…because someone had hurt her. Oh, the confusion of it all. She wanted to hate him, so much, but then he did stuff like this. Or like come back to Red River to care for the father he had a horrible relationship with. Why couldn’t he just be one hundred percent jerk? Fifty percent jerk was way harder to ignore. She turned her head from his intense blue gaze and caught Sabrina staring at them like she was watching a movie, while holding her latte in one hand and taking a bite out of a cannolo from the other. She quickly looked down.

She tilted up her chin and dodged his question. “
You.
”

He rubbed the back of his neck and winced. “Besides me.”

She had no intention of telling him about her second great judgment screw up. “No one you know or need to know.”

“What did he do to you?” His voice was soft, thick with concern…and laced with anger.

She crossed her arms and refused to get caught up in his charming display of protectiveness. “Nothing. Don’t worry about me, I can take care of myself.”

He gave a short nod. “I know you can, Nat.” This time his voice was gruff and sent a thrilling shiver down her spine, like it always used to. “You always have been one of the smartest people I know.”

Always the charmer. Like he actually thought that bit of flattery would have her serving up cannoli. Not going to work. “Which is why I can’t sell you any cannoli.”

“What?’

She nodded. “That’s right. I can’t sell you any cannoli because that wouldn’t be smart.”

He was frowning again.

She grabbed his wrist and tried to pull him out the door but he didn’t move. He didn’t even sway. “If you’ll kindly leave my store, you’re interrupting a business meeting.”

The only thing that moved was the corner of his mouth, making a dimple appear as he looked between her and Sabrina.

She narrowed her eyes on him. “We do business. Important business. Sabrina is the top real estate agent in town.”

She sucked in a breath as Sabrina smiled wanly, a latte moustache obvious from across the room, along with icing sugar dusted across her black shift dress. Aiden turned back to her and smirked. “Well, I don’t want to interrupt such a high-powered meeting of the minds.”

She let out a disgusted noise. “You have no idea, buddy, none. Besides, I’m getting ready to deliver an order to your friend’s wife’s successful floral shop. They are a power couple.”

He didn’t blink. “Jake Manning? Part of a power couple. I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.”

She tapped her foot. “It’s pretty arrogant of you to come back in here and act like you know everything about everyone. I think it’s amazing how your once screwed-up friend managed to turn his life around. But, then again, he actually stuck around instead of running away from his problems.”

His jaw was ticking like clockwork as he listened to her. “She clearly gave him a second chance. And for the record, I’ve been in touch with Jake.”

Interesting. “Claire clearly thought he was worthy of one.”

“Everyone is worthy.”

“But not everything is forgivable. Cheating is unforgivable in my book.”

Something flashed across his blue eyes, anger maybe. For a second it seemed like something more. But what? And really, why did it matter to her? Aiden was part of her past. He would be here for a few weeks, and then he’d leave again. He swung open the door and walked out, looking as though nothing bothered him.

Aiden McCann had been bad news from day one. She had never heeded the warnings about him ten years ago, and he’d destroyed her. She wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice.

Chapter Three

Six thirty in the morning. That was what she called dedication. This was what really disciplined people did. Runners did this. In the rain, snow, sleet, they ran. Morning or at night, they ran, fearlessly. She needed to be a runner.

The sun wasn’t even all the way up yet, and here she was, true to her word, ready to start her jogging program. She was going to do this. It would help her with stress relief, too. She could think about Aiden. She could think about her cousin, and burn off all that negative energy.

She inserted an earbud in her right ear only, thinking it was safer if she could hear outside noise, as well. She opened up her app and selected
Day One, Week One
and took a deep breath. Her playlist queued up, and the narrator, in a super cheerful voice, told her to start walking for her warm-up. Great. She could do that.

She started walking at an easy pace along the riverside trail. This was her favorite trail in Red River. Right now, it was practically deserted, a few figures walked in the distance. The sun was on the verge of rising, and the air had a slight chill in it, holding on to the summer air while giving way to a bit of autumn’s chill. She kept walking, ignoring the slight panic she felt when she glanced at her iPhone screen and saw she’d be jogging momentarily. Sure enough, the chipper voice filled her ear, and she had to start the dreadful jog.

She paced herself, telling herself she could totally do this. See? Easy. Her new running shoes were comfy and padded and felt light as her feet pounded the pavement. Her light jacket kept her warm, and before she knew it, the jogging interval was over, and she was able to resume walking. Funny, in life she had always been able to start jogging, but she never ever made it to a full-on half-hour jog. She was going to do it.

When the half hour was up, she took a deep breath and did some light stretching, feeling incredibly free, incredibly optimistic. It was a miracle, really, because having Aiden back in town, coupled with the upcoming nuptials of her cousin and ex-boyfriend drawing near, was enough to make her not feel optimistic about anything. Flashing lights in the distance caused her to pause, and she walked toward the parked police cruiser. She already knew who it was. Sure enough, her brother was leaning against the hood of the car, two coffees in a cardboard tray sitting on top.

“Why are you jogging alone in the dark?”

She rolled her eyes theatrically enough so he’d be sure to see. “Are you having me followed?”

He held out a cup for her. “I don’t need to. Dad called me. That’s what happens when you live down the street from them and walk by their kitchen window at six a.m. You know Dad’s drinking his espresso.”

She took a sip of hot coffee. “True, but you didn’t have to come out here.”

Her brother turned in her direction, his dark eyes serious. “Truth is, I was wondering if you’d heard Aiden was back in town.”

She took a sip of coffee, knowing that Dominic had his own past with Aiden, which had nothing to do with her. “He is. I saw him.”

“And?”

She fluttered her eyelashes and gave a fake giggle. “He’s as cute as I remembered, Dommy.”

Her brother scowled. “That’s not funny. Not what I was asking.”

“So what are you asking?”

“Fine. Let me rephrase everything: don’t go getting your heart broken all over again. People don’t change. Once a badass, always a badass.”

She would never admit out loud that even the mention of the word badass in relation to Aiden sent a secret thrill through her body. So pathetic. “I don’t think he did anything so bad…I mean, besides cheat on me.”

Her brother choked on his coffee and then swiped the droplets from his chin. “Are you kidding? He was a stoner.”

“Marijuana is legal now, you know.” She pretended her running shoes were very interesting and kept her head downturned.

“I’m not even going to answer that. And at the time, he was a minor. And he was also perpetually drunk. He dropped out of school. Was constantly in fights. Oh, and his grand finale was driving through John’s Diner while drunk.”

She faked a cough. “So he doesn’t deserve a second chance from either of us?”

“Guys don’t give each other second chances,” he said, taking a long drink of coffee.

“He was your best friend.”

“He acted like an idiot, and he hurt my little sister. He doesn’t get a second chance,” he said, standing straight and taking a step back. “I’d better get to work.”

“Sabrina thinks I should ask him to go to F&F’s wedding with me.”

He ran has hand over his chin and had that same look he always wore when it came to discussing her BFF. “Don’t take advice from Sabrina.”

She eyed him carefully. “Why? She’s a great advisor.”

He let out a sound that suggested otherwise. Her poor friend. She’d had a thing for Dominic for years, only to have him go out of his way to ignore her. “Stay away from him, Nat. You’re only going to get hurt. Besides, with the wedding next month, you don’t need any more crap to deal with.”

Her brother was coming from a good place, and she did agree with him, but there was that tiny twinge, somewhere deep inside, that she didn’t even know why she was acknowledging, that made her want to defend Aiden. Oh God, she was in trouble. Maybe it was the fact that he was back in town to care for his father. Or the glimpse of vulnerability he’d shown at his father’s house…or maybe it was what he’d said to her at the bakery. That deep, husky voice, demanding to know who’d hurt her. She closed her eyes with a sigh. She would not cave.

…

Aiden shifted on the waiting room chair in Evan Manning’s doctor’s office and tried to avoid eye contact with his father, who was currently trying to charm Grace Manning. He had to give Evan’s wife credit—the man didn’t repulse her. Instead, she seemed fond of him, in a pitying kind of way. She laughed at his stupid jokes and gave him sympathetic smiles when his attempt at leaning against her receptionist’s desk almost caused his back to spasm.

Aiden sighed roughly. “Dad, why don’t you sit down?”

“Now why would I want to sit down? You’re just going to stare at your phone and ignore me. Grace here is a breath of fresh air, and I hope Evan knows how lucky a man he is.”

Aiden groaned while Grace laughed sweetly.

“I think you’re supposed to call him Dr. Manning,” he said.

His father scowled. “I’ve known that boy since he was in diapers. He’ll always be Evan to me.”

Aiden glanced at his watch. God, he hoped Evan would be out here soon for their appointment. It was one thing to have to spend day in and day out with his father, but to see the man make a fool of himself was another. Thankfully, Evan appeared in the doorway a few minutes later. Evan was giving Aiden’s father a look that suggested he wasn’t surprised.

“Aiden, nice to see you,” Evan said.

Aiden smiled and walked over to him. “You, too, man.” Evan looked the same—older, sure, but he was the same kid Aiden remembered. Evan had been a few years younger than he and Jake and had always been the one with his head in a book, steering clear of their crowd. He was yet another example of someone living the perfect life. Gorgeous wife, a kid, and a successful medical practice.

“Mr. McCann, I’m ready to see you now,” Evan said.

“One minute, boy. Grace here is writing down the address of the art gallery carrying her work.”

Aiden would hit him if he weren’t his father or elderly or dealing with cancer. He noticed Evan looked down and rubbed the back of his neck. No doubt he was thinking the exact same thing. His father had never shown an interest in art. The closest he’d seen him come to appreciating art was peeling off the label of an imported beer and sticking it on the fridge to remember the brand.

“You can wait out here,” his father said to him, pointing to the row of chairs.

He crossed his arms. “I’m coming in.”

“Actually, Mr. McCann, I think it would be a good idea if Aiden joined us.”

His father’s face turned red, and he looked as though he was about to crap himself, but Grace quickly rounded the corner of her desk to stand beside him.

“Mr. McCann, it’s so nice that Aiden is here, helping you out. Why don’t you let him join you? Sometimes it’s good to have someone else to listen and interpret what the doctor is saying.” Grace was a genius. She placed her hand on his father’s arm, and all the tension visibly left his body, like a deflating balloon. Aiden stood there, incredulous, as his father listened obediently and became some kind of docile puppy.

Grace handed him the paper, and then they finally made their way into one of the patient exam rooms. Evan gestured to the two seats beside his small desk.

Aiden crossed his legs nervously. He hoped to God there wasn’t something else wrong with his dad and that was why Evan wanted him here.

“I was just reviewing your A1C numbers, Mr. McCann, and I’m very concerned.”

Aiden straightened up in his chair, worried at the serious expression on Evan’s face. “What’s an A1C?”

“They are blood test results giving the average blood sugar readings for the last three months. I told your dad last year, he needs to be careful with his diet, or he’ll have to go on insulin for Type II diabetes.”

Aiden ran his hands down his face as his father made all sorts of noises of discontent.

“I don’t see what the big deal is.”

Evan gave him a look. It was obvious they’d had this conversation many times.

“How high are his numbers?”

Evan gestured to his computer screen. Aiden looked at it as Evan scrolled through a year’s worth of test numbers. “Too high, even with the medication I’ve put him on.”

“I didn’t know you were on medication for diabetes,” he said, turning to his father.

He shrugged, looking like a petulant child.

“He’s been on medication for the last two years—the maximum dosage before moving to insulin.”

He scrambled, trying to think of relevant questions to ask, even though he knew very little about diabetes. “Is there a chance of not having to go on insulin?”

Evan nodded. “It will require strict diet and regular exercise.” He reached into a filing cabinet and pulled out a bunch of leaflets on diabetes. “Have a look through these as a starting point. Feel free to give me a call or stop by for more information, and I can help you out. I also referred him to a nutritionist who specializes in diabetic diet management, but he didn’t go.”

Aiden clenched his teeth. What the hell? He glanced over at his father who was deadpan. “I’ll see that he goes. In the meantime, what can I do?”

After Evan gave him the essentials and armed him with the reading material, he stood, shaking his hand. “I really appreciate the time you took explaining all this, Evan. I’ll do everything I can while I’m in town to get him back on track.”

“Not a problem. I’m relieved you’ll be taking over because I’ve been pulling my hair out trying to get through to him.”

“Yeah, not an enviable task,” he said.

“You two punks know I’m sitting here, right?”

Evan grinned. Aiden was too pissed to grin. “Also, get your dad to show you where he keeps his blood sugar monitor. He should be taking readings three times a day. It’s an excellent way of getting an immediate and accurate blood sugar reading. There’s a booklet that goes with it, telling you what the target numbers are for different times of day. He should also be recording it.”

Aiden glared at his father. “Okay, thanks, Evan. Dad, let’s go.”

“I don’t know when staying alive became so difficult. Radiation. Diabetes. Who has time for all this crap?”

“Maybe in between all your shows.”

His father grumbled and stood, muttering something about knowing Evan was trouble. “Sorry,” he muttered to Evan when his father started toward the door.

Evan slapped him on the back. “No worries, man. I don’t envy you. Just do what you can. Once you’ve had a chance to look over all that material, feel free to make an appointment, we can come up with a game plan, and I can answer any questions you have.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

Wait until he called Dylan and told him what a wreck their father was and how much he hadn’t told them. He walked into the lobby, and his father was nowhere to be seen. After saying good-bye to Evan’s wife, Aiden stood on the main street, looking for his father. He spotted him halfway up the strip.

He jogged down the street to catch up with his father, who was on his way to the bakery door. Of course, going to see Nat was exactly what he would have liked right now, but there was no way the old man should be eating desserts.

He slammed the door shut before his father could open it. “What do you think you’re doing?”

His father unsuccessfully tried to shove his hand off the handle. Aiden didn’t budge. “I’m going to get a cappuccino and a cannolo, like I always do in the afternoon. I’m part of the walking club.”

He tried not to scoff out loud. “A walking club? Seriously?”

“Yeah. Started by Puccini. We walk, and then we eat.”

He swallowed a curse. The only other person he had wanted to avoid even more than Natalia was her father. The man never ceased to drop hints while he was dating Natalia that he was connected to the Mafia.

“Are you freaking kidding me? No. No more. You can have the cappuccino—no sugar—but no dessert.” Man. He needed to do some reading on this condition. Movement under his hand reminded him he was blocking the doorway. He turned to find Eunice Jacobs’s face pressed against the glass. Jeez. He’d forgotten about her.

This town never changed.

“Now look what you’ve done,” his father yelled. “That old kook is listening to our conversation. She’ll tell the whole town about my diabetes.”

“Are you kidding me?” he asked, pressing back against the door as Eunice tried with surprising strength to burst through it. “She probably has diabetes herself—she still has icing all around her mouth. Besides, who cares if people know you’re a diabetic? Don’t you think that being an alcoholic is more embarrassing?”