The Rebel Returns: The Return of the Rebel / Her Irresistible Protector / Why Resist a Rebel?

Jax took a drink of ice water and studied her over the rim. “Aw, see, I was right. It was a man who turned you into such a jaded person.”

Cleo was not about to confess her long-ago teenage crush on him nor mention her college boyfriend, who got her to trust him—to believe they might have a chance at a future—before he two-timed her with her roommate. Some things were better not discussed.

“Let’s just say I grew up and learned that people always let you down.” She had to remind herself of that hard-learned lesson when Jax was around. With him it was too easy to fall into old patterns and let down her guard.

Throughout the meal they compared notes about college life and who had it worse. When Jax claimed he lived a semester with not much more than a can of tuna for his supper, he won hands down.

Since he’d started asking questions, it was time he answered a few. “Now, tell me more about your life in New York. You’ve said very little about what you do there.”

“What can I say, I like to be a man of mystery.”

Now that she couldn’t argue with. He’d been a mystery for as long as she’d known him. He’d give just so much of himself before a solid wall would come up and block everyone out. She always thought that it had something to do with the way his father mistreated him. She inwardly cringed remembering how that man would call Jax rude names in the middle of town.

“Well, I hate to tell you this, but you aren’t as mysterious as you seem.”

“Really?” Jax propped his elbows on the table and leaned forward. “And what is it you think you’ve uncovered about me?”

“I know you work in New York City for some investment firm.”

“So far you’re right. I run a hedge fund on Wall Street.”

“That sounds very impressive.” She couldn’t hold back a big smile. “I’m so happy for you. I just wish your mother was still around to see what you’ve done with your life.”

“I think she would have approved.”

“I know she would have. She was always proud of you.” Cleo’s thoughts filled with memories of the people of Hope Springs. “Do you ever think about going home?”

“This from the girl who moved to Connecticut for college and then graduated and moved to Vegas. I don’t see you rushing back to Wyoming.”

She shrugged. “I’m not cut out to be a rancher, even if I am a Sinclair. I just wish I could have convinced my family.”

“Ah, so you’re off in search of yourself.”

After all of these years it was as if he could still read her thoughts. Before she could tell him more, shouting came from behind her followed by the sound of shattering glass.

CHAPTER FIVE (#uee4f3a96-b1a4-5441-94cf-f47d18c9456e)

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.”