Falling For The Rebel Cowboy. Allison B. Collins
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His face turned to stone, and he wouldn’t look at her. A muscle jumped in his cheek, and she all but heard him grinding his teeth. “That so?”
“She said you’re a troublemaker.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m ashamed to admit it, but I was a bit of a rebel in my younger days.”
“Just a bit?”
He winced. “Okay, more than a bit. I wasn’t the best student, and I had a lot of anger.”
“So you were in a gang?”
“What?”
“She said you’d been in a gang.”
“I guess from her point of view, we were a gang. I hung around with a few guys and we had motorcycles, played pranks, caused trouble around town, if you call that a gang.”
“You had a motorcycle in high school?”
He shrugged. “I did odd jobs for the mechanic in town. He let me buy an old one for cheap. Had to rebuild it from the frame up.”
“You rebuilt a motorcycle as a kid?”
“I was always good with mechanics. Better than learning anything in school,” he muttered almost under his breath, but she heard him. “Damn thing stalled more than it ran. But it was mine, and it got me off the ranch. I still have it, even though I don’t ride it much anymore.”
She steeled herself, dreading the next part, hating to pry, but she had to. “The old lady also said you’d been in jail.”
His whole body went still, and his eyes narrowed. “This is why I hate coming to town,” he muttered. “That part is true.”
Adrenaline flooded her body, and she wanted to jump out of the truck. What had she been thinking yesterday, letting her boy spend the day with a complete stranger—who had a record!
“I’ll bet she didn’t tell you that I took the rap to keep my friend safe, did she?” he ground out through clenched teeth.
“No, she didn’t. Is that what happened?”
“My friends and I were out one night. Todd had gotten hold of some booze, so we were passing the bottle around, feeling pretty good. He did something stupid and the cops were called. If his dad had found out, he’d have beaten Todd again, real bad. So I took the rap and had to spend the night in jail. The charges were dropped the next morning because someone saw what really happened and stepped forward.”
He glanced over at her, a vein jumping in his temple. She could tell how much it bothered him to talk about this. She set a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry. I had to ask because of my son.”
“I’d never hurt a kid,” he ground out, yanking his arm from beneath her touch. “And I don’t appreciate anyone thinking I would.”
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