Page 14 of The Rebel with Broken Strings
“Is that so?” Gunner replied, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down Aubrey’s spine. “I’ve heard you do some amazing work.”
Poppy gave a sensual smile. “I can do many amazing things.”
Gunner raised an eyebrow in response.
Unable to bear another second, Aubrey slammed the glass down and stormed past Willow into the kitchen. Her chest heaved as she braced herself against the cool metal countertop, trying to regain her composure.
“Get it together, Aubrey,” she muttered, closing her eyes. “He’s not yours. He was never yours.”
The kitchen door swung open, and Aubrey’s eyes snapped open to find Gunner standing there, amusement etched across his face, causing her sudden glare.
“You okay, darlin’?” he asked, taking a cautious step forward, his voice laced with concern.
Aubrey straightened, folding her arms across her chest defensively. “I’m fine. Shouldn’t you be out there entertaining your new friend?” Her words were sharp, but her eyes betrayed a flicker of something deeper.
Gunner’s eyebrows arched in amusement, a knowing smirk dancing at the corners of his lips. “Now, now. Is that jealousy I detect in your voice?” he teased, his tone light yet probing.
“You wish,” Aubrey retorted with a scoff, though even she could hear the wavering in her own voice, a lack of conviction that belied her true feelings.
He moved in closer, the space between them charged with an almost palpable tension. “There’s nothing out there I want,” he murmured softly, his voice a gentle caress. “What I want is right here.”
Aubrey’s breath hitched, caught in her throat, her resolve melting under the intensity of his steady gaze. “Gunner, I…” she started, her words faltering as the air around them crackled with an electric, fragile anticipation.
Gunner’s eyes sparkled with playful mischief as he leaned in, his proximity wrapping her in the warmth of his presence. His voice dropped to a teasing, low drawl. “It’s alright, sweetheart. If it bugs you to see me talkin’ to other women, you can just say so.” He grinned, his smile turning devilish. “Hell, I’d be lyin’ if I said it wouldn’t bother me to see you with someone else.”
Aubrey’s cheeks flared with heat, a blush creeping across her skin. “I am not jealous,” she insisted with a hiss, even as her heart raced traitorously within her chest, betraying her words.
“Sure, darlin’.” Gunner chuckled, his gaze lingering on her face, tracing every bit of her features. “Whatever you say.”
She turned away abruptly, her fingers busying themselves with the task of organizing the bottles on the closest shelf, a futile attempt ease the emotions inside her. “Don’t you have a show to prepare for?” she mumbled, her voice a little steadier now.
The muted sounds of the bar began to seep through the kitchen door—the excited chatter of the crowd gathering for Gunner’s set.
His eyes flicked toward the noise for a brief moment before returning to Aubrey, his expression softening. “You’re right,” he said quietly, his voice filled with a promise. “But this conversation ain’t over, Aubrey. Not by a long shot.”
Once he’d left, Aubrey allowed herself a moment to breathe. She could hear the crowd growing restless, their energy palpable even from the kitchen. Steeling herself,she pushed through the swinging door, back into the main bar area.
The Naked Moose was beginning to become alive with electricity. More people were arriving to put their workweek behind them. Aubrey’s gaze went straight to Gunner, his presence magnetic as he adjusted his guitar strap and stepped in front of the microphone, his band ready behind him. Then her focus went to Poppy, all but drooling on his shoes, and she rolled her eyes, heading toward Charly and Willow behind the bar. She had work to do, and she wasn’t going to let some country singer distract her, no matter how much those sexy, smoldering blue eyes drew her in.
Five
After the school day ended for the children the following afternoon, Gunner had already completed his physical therapy routine for his leg and put in his training ride in the morning, when he swung the double doors of the community center open, flooding the dim hallway with late afternoon sunlight. The schedule was slightly demanding with the daily volunteering during the week, but there were quite a few kids to mentor, and Gunner needed the distraction. His mind had been on Aubrey all morning—and that small shift he felt between them last night. Her jealously had been rich in the air, and he got it. He would have had an issue with any guy drooling all over her. A crack in her resolve had formed, and he wouldn’t miss his chance to fill that space with the million apologies he owed her until she stopped keeping him out. As he entered the community center —a single expansive room with a stage and a small kitchen to one side—his worn cowboy boots echoed on the linoleum floor.
“Gunner, hello,” Margaret called. “Please come meet the kiddos.”
“Hi, y’all!” Gunner called out. “Hope I ain’t too late to join this little hoedown.”
While Margaret hurried off to wrangle some more of the children up, a chorus of excited squeals erupted as a swarm of children rushed toward him, their faces beaming with unbridled joy. Gunner’s heart swelled, and damn, did this feel good, the idea of giving back to the community that had given him a great home.
“Gunner! Gunner!” A freckle-faced boy tugged at his sleeve. “Will you sing for us? Pretty please?”
Gunner chuckled, ruffling the boy’s hair. “Now, hold your horses there, partner. We’ve got plenty of time for singing. First, let’s see what kinda talent we’ve got brewin’ in this room.”
As he scanned the bustling space, his gaze settled on a small figure hovering at the edge of the stage. A young girl, no more than twelve, clutched a wrinkled sheet of paper to her chest like a shield. Her wide eyes darted around the room, never settling on one spot for more than a heartbeat.
“Give me just a minute,” he told the boy, noticing the guitar near him. “Get warmed up and I’ll be right back.”
Gunner’s chest tightened. Lord, if that wasn’t the spitting image of him at his first county fair. He remembered all too well the debilitating fear, the cotton-dry mouth, the legs that felt like they might give out at any moment.
