The Rebel Returns. Michelle Douglas

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The Rebel Returns - Michelle Douglas Mills & Boon By Request

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the sound of shattering glass.

       CHAPTER FIVE

      WHY NOW?

      For the first time in forever, Jax had been enjoying himself. Instead of worrying about his test results or the upcoming trial, he’d taken time to enjoy a good meal and an easy conversation. Cleo was perfect, from her sparkling smile to the way the candlelight made her blond curls shimmer. This was the closest he could ever envision himself getting with a woman and he hated that the moment had come to an abrupt end.

      Stifling a groan of frustration, he turned his head. A man stumbled to his feet while berating a young waitress as she set a cup on the table. The woman’s face was splotched with color while all around her on the floor were shards of broken glass.

      “I’ll get security,” Cleo said, scrambling to her feet.

      Jax wasn’t about to stand by and watch the scene unfold. He strode across the empty dining room, hoping to reason with the man. “Is there a problem here?”

      “What’s it to you?” The man slurred his words.

      “It looked like you might need some help.” He’d had his share of experiences with men in this guy’s condition and knew they could be unpredictable.

      “Yeah, get her to bring me another drink.” The man’s bloodshot eyes glared at him and then turn to the young waitress. “I don’t want this coffee.”

      “I’m sorry. I can’t serve you any more alcohol,” the waitress stammered.

      Before the man could move, Jax situated himself between the two of them. He’d seen enough of this thing when he was a kid, when he was too young to do anything about it. Now he wouldn’t just stand by and let a man take his frustration out on this woman.

      “Why don’t you try the coffee?”

      “Fine.” The man glared at him before grabbing a large brown mug from the table behind him. “If you’re so interested in the coffee, you have it.”

      The next thing Jax knew warm liquid hit him in the face. His hands balled at his sides and a growl started deep in his throat. With every muscle tensed, he stood there soaked as coffee continued to drip from his chin.

      “Enjoy.” The man staggered away.

      Jax took a step in the man’s direction then stopped. More than anything he wanted to go after him, but he knew better. Nothing good would come from exacerbating the situation.

      He glanced over in time to see Cleo standing at the entrance to the restaurant with two burly security guards. “That’s the guy.”

      While security dealt with the obnoxious man, Jax turned to the waitress. “Are you okay?”

      She nodded and handed him a towel. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t been here.”

      He proceeded to dry his face. “Glad I could help.”

      “I tried to make him understand that I have to follow the rules. I—I wasn’t sure what to do. I’m new and no one has ever acted like that before. I should have handled it better.” The girl grew flustered and he felt bad for her.

      “You did fine. He was just a difficult man. Here, let me give you a hand cleaning up.” He knelt down and started placing the big pieces of glass on the tray.

      “If there’s ever anything I can do for you, just ask for Marylou.”

      “Thank you.” He flashed her a reassuring smile. “I’ll keep your offer in mind.”

      Cleo returned with a mop and bucket. She looked him over. “Are you okay? Did you get burned?”

      “I’m fine. Luckily the coffee had time to cool down. I’m just a little wet.”

      She gave him one last look as though to determine whether he was telling the truth. Then she started mopping the floor. The three of them worked together until the mess was nothing more than a distant memory.

      “Well, hero,” Cleo said, smiling up at him, “let’s get you back to the bungalow and into some dry clothes.”

      He shook his head. “I’m no hero.”

      “Yes, you are. Just like all those years ago when you stood between me and Billy Parsons when he insisted I hand over my lunch money. You’re still playing the modest hero. That’s one of the things that I always—” She clamped her lips together and glanced away.

      His black mood started to lift. “That you always what?”

      “That I...I always admired about you.”

      The way she stammered around, he couldn’t help wondering if that was what she’d originally intended to say or if there was some other hidden truth that was making her look so uncomfortable. He knew she had a crush on him way back then. And in all honesty, he’d thought she was pretty great, too. But way too young for him.

      “Come on. Let’s get you out of these.” She tugged at his damp, clingy T-shirt. “Then again your new cologne, eau de coffee, might be a big hit with the ladies.”

      “You think so? How’s it working for you?”

      Her petite nose curled up. “I don’t think it’s your scent.”

      Her soft laughter was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. And her smile started a funny feeling in his chest. If only he could keep her smiling.

      Her eyes twinkled. “Are you flirting with me?”

      “If you have to ask, I must not be doing it right.”

      She laughed some more. “I’m glad not everything about you has changed. You were always a great guy in my book.”

      Her gaze lifted up to meet his. The tender look in her eyes touched something deep inside him—a part of him that he thought was long dead. In that moment, he felt more alive than he had in months.

      Without thinking he reached out and caressed her cheek. “Thank you.”

      She leaned into his touch, short-circuiting the logical side of his brain. The only coherent thought in his head was to pull her close and kiss her. And this time he wouldn’t be kissing her rosy cheek. This time he planned to find out if those cherry-red lips were as sweet and passionate as they were in his daydreams.

      His head started to lower when he heard footsteps behind him. He pulled away. Frustration bound up in his gut. He’d been so close—a breath away from satisfying his desires.

      His hands clenched at his sides as he worked to compose himself. A little voice in his head assured him that this was for the best, but it didn’t stop the wave of disappointment. Only a moment or two more and he’d have had a tantalizing memory to take back to New York.

      “What’s going on here?” Mr. Burns demanded. “Security said there was some sort of incident.”

      Cleo

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