Chapter 3
REBEL
The little bell above the farm store’s door finished its jingle as my boots hit the polished hardwood floor, the sweet scents of fresh produce and baked goods wrapping around me.
The place was cozy with wooden shelves lined with jars of jam, fresh bread, and pastries behind the counter, and colorful baskets piled high with apples, peaches, and squash.
It was neat and welcoming, with a comfortable charm that perfectly matched the woman who was staring at me from across the room, her lips slightly parted and those amber-brown eyes widening in surprise.
Her chestnut braid hung loosely over one shoulder, a few stubborn strands escaping to curl gently around her flushed cheeks, and my fingers itched with the sudden desire to brush them back.
The worn denim of her jeans hugged her lush hips exactly the way I’d been fantasizing about ever since last night.
And her T-shirt with the orchard’s logo clung just right to her pert, round tits.
Just seeing her again hit me like a gut punch, making my breath come a little shorter and my pulse spike like I was fucking eighteen all over again.
Clara recovered quickly, straightening her spine and lifting that stubborn chin as a faint smirk tugged at the corners of her soft mouth.
“Well, if it isn’t tall, dark, and grumpy from the Hounds,” she drawled, her voice lightly teasing, though her eyes held a faint glimmer of curiosity. “Rebel, right?”
“Ronan,” I corrected firmly, closing the distance between us.
Since I’d already accepted that she belonged to me, it didn’t faze me when I corrected her to use my real name.
Her eyes tracked me every inch of the way, color rising high and sweet in her cheeks as I stopped right in front of her, towering over her by several inches. “You call me Ronan, Clara.”
She tilted her head back slightly, meeting my gaze boldly even though I could hear the hitch in her breathing and practically felt the heat radiating from her skin. “Is there something specific I can help you with today?”
“Yeah.” I lowered my voice to a rougher rasp that had her eyes widening a fraction more. My gaze moved slowly over her, lingering just enough to let her know exactly what was running through my head. “I’m here for you.”
The unexpected, dreamy sigh that floated from behind the counter startled me enough to glance toward the sound.
Another young woman, likely Clara’s sister, given the resemblance, watched us shamelessly with wide, interested eyes.
Her grin spread slowly across her face, and she propped her chin on her hand, clearly ready to settle in and enjoy the show.
Clara shot her a pointed glare.
“Harper,” she growled, her voice filled with a mixture of embarrassment and warning. “Don’t you have inventory to finish?”
Harper’s eyes never left mine, her grin widening as she slowly straightened from the counter. “Oh, I can definitely finish inventory later. I wouldn’t miss this for anything.”
Clara’s cheeks flushed deeper, frustration and amusement mingling on her face. “Harper Winslet, I swear—”
“Okay, okay.” Harper laughed and held up her hands in mock surrender. She moved slowly toward the back of the store, her eyes dancing with laughter as she winked at her sister. “I’m going. Have fun, you two.”
Clara’s eyes narrowed, and she let out another little growl that only seemed to amuse her sister more. I didn’t bother hiding my smirk as Harper finally disappeared into the back room, the door closing behind her with a quiet click.
“She seems fun,” I remarked dryly, my gaze shifting back to Clara.
“She’s nosy.” Clara sighed and shook her head, though the faint amusement in her eyes softened the annoyance.
Her attention returned fully to me, her arms folding across her chest as she looked me up and down slowly, one brow arching in an unmistakable challenge.
“And I’m pretty sure you don’t know me nearly well enough to declare you’re here for me. ”
A slow grin curved my lips as I tilted my head, deliberately letting my gaze drift over her face again, lingering briefly on those lips that had haunted my thoughts for days. “Oh, I know exactly what I need to, Clara. You’re mine.”
Her eyes widened in surprise for half a heartbeat before they narrowed again, her mouth twitching with a hint of sass as she lifted her chin stubbornly. “Yours? Pretty sure I don’t see your name on me.”
“Not yet,” I drawled, stepping just close enough to feel the warmth of her body radiating through her T-shirt. “But give it time.”
She let out a huff of breath that was equal parts amused and exasperated, one delicate brow arching. “That line work with all the other girls, Ronan?”
“Wouldn’t know.” I let the honesty ring clear in my voice. “Never wanted to say it to anyone else.”
Her expression softened just a fraction, and she ducked her head slightly, a faint smile teasing her lips.
The vulnerability of that reaction tugged at something deep in my chest, making my voice rougher when I spoke again.
“But if you’d rather I prove it, I’m more than happy to show you exactly how serious I am. ”
Clara’s head snapped back up, her cheeks flaming even as that sassy smirk returned, brighter than before.
She shifted her weight slightly, one hand landing on her perfectly curved hip as she met my stare without flinching, her voice low and teasing.
“Maybe you should worry less about proving how serious you are, and more about showing me you can keep up.”
I chuckled, the sound rumbling in my chest as I leaned in just close enough that my lips brushed against her ear, satisfaction flaring hotly when I heard her breath hitch sharply. “Oh, baby, I promise keeping up won’t be a problem. The real question is if you’re ready to find out.”
Her eyes flashed with a mix of anticipation and defiance, but the bell over the front door jingled before she could respond, breaking the moment. A group of customers filed in, chattering excitedly, their attention quickly shifting to the nearby bins of sweet potatoes.
Clara sighed softly, clearly torn between continuing our conversation and tending to her customers. I eased back, offering a faint, amused grin. “I’ll wait.”
Her gaze locked on mine again, the warmth and curiosity in her eyes making my chest ache. She shook her head slowly, her voice amused when she murmured, “You better not cause any trouble while you wait, biker boy.”
“No promises,” I drawled, moving toward a spot near the counter where I could watch her and lean comfortably against the wall. My gaze never left her as she went to greet her customers, her laughter effortless as she helped them select their produce.
As I stood there, I realized something with absolute certainty—I would keep coming back for Clara until she realized exactly how serious I was about making her mine.
I stayed where I was, my arms folded loosely across my chest as I watched her move through the store like she belonged to it just as much as the land outside.
There was nothing rushed about her, even when there were three customers at once asking questions and shifting baskets around.
She handled all of it with an easy rhythm, her voice bright as she rang up purchases, laughed at something a kid said, and reached across the counter to hand over a bag with a soft “have a good day” that sounded genuine every time.
My attention tracked every small detail whether I wanted it to or not.
How her fingers moved over the register keys—quick, confident, but a little absent-minded when she got caught up talking.
The subtle shift of her hips when she leaned to grab something behind her, the worn denim pulling tight in a way that made my jaw clench as I pictured those same hips rocking against me, her hands gripping my shoulders while I buried myself inside her.
Heat pooled in my gut, and I dragged a slow breath through my nose, forcing the fierce need down before it got the better of me in the middle of her family’s damn store.
She caught me watching her at one point, her gaze flicking up through her lashes, a faint flush creeping into her cheeks when she realized I hadn’t looked away.
Instead of shying away from it, she held my stare for a second longer than necessary.
The slight challenge in her eyes made something dark and satisfied flare in my chest. Then she turned back to the customer like nothing had happened, but I caught the hint of a smile tugging at her mouth.
Fuck.
By the time the last customer drifted out and the bell gave one final jingle, the quiet that followed felt charged in a way that had nothing to do with the heat outside.
She wiped her hands on a towel, setting it aside before turning toward me fully, her weight shifting onto one hip as she leaned lightly against the counter.
“You planning on buying something,” she asked, one brow lifting, “or just standing there looking intimidating all afternoon?”
“Depends.” I pushed off the wall and closed the distance between us again. “You available tomorrow night?”
The words came out like a question, but there wasn’t much give in my voice. I watched her closely, tracking the way her pulse jumped in her throat and how her fingers curled slightly against the edge of the counter.
“For dinner,” I added in a rougher tone.
Her lips parted like she might answer right away, then she hesitated, a little crease forming between her brows as she shook her head. “I…can’t. Not tomorrow.”
My jaw tightened a fraction. “Why not?”
“We’re getting ready for the fall festival.
” She gestured vaguely toward the back, then out toward the land beyond the windows.
“It starts Saturday, and there’s still a ton to do.
Decorating the corn maze, setting up the stands, and hauling stuff around.
My whole family will be working on it all week. ”
There was an apology in her tone, but not hesitation. The event mattered to her. I could see it plain as day in the way her eyes lit when she talked about it, and how her shoulders squared like she was already halfway out there working.
I nodded slowly, then shifted a little closer, bracing one hand on the counter beside her. “What kind of setup?”
Her gaze flicked to my hand, then back up to my face. “What?”
“The festival,” I clarified, watching her carefully. “What all you got going on?”
Something in my tone must’ve given me away, because her expression softened just a little, curiosity creeping in under the sass. “Well…there’s the corn maze, pumpkin patch, hayrides, food stands, the bakery gets slammed, and we do live music on the weekends. It’s kind of a whole thing.”
“What time you start?”
“Early,” she replied with a soft laugh. “Like stupid early. We usually start setting up around eight in the morning, sometimes earlier depending on what needs to get done.”
“And you’re out there all day?”
“Pretty much,” she admitted, pushing a loose strand of hair back behind her ear. “Other than when we rotate turns running the store.” She shrugged with a sweet smile. “It’s busy, but I love it.”
I watched her for a beat, taking in the quiet certainty in her voice. How she didn’t even question saying no to me because this mattered more. That did something to me I didn’t expect, settling deep and solid in my chest.
“Okay,” I murmured finally.
Her brows lifted slightly, like she’d been expecting more pushback. “That’s it?”
“For now.” I let my gaze drag slowly over her again, not bothering to hide what I was thinking this time. “But I’m not waiting forever, baby.”
Her breath hitched, just enough for me to catch the reaction, and satisfaction coursed through my veins.
I glanced at my watch and swore under my breath. Time had gotten away from me, and I’d be late for a meeting I couldn’t afford to miss if I didn’t move now. The job waiting for me wasn’t one you kept sitting around for, no matter how much I wanted to stay right where I was.
“Shit,” I muttered, straightening. “I gotta go.”
Her expression shifted, a flicker of disappointment crossing her face before she smoothed it over with that same easy smile. “Busy man.”
“Something like that.”
I stepped in close enough that the air between us tightened again and didn’t give her time to second-guess it.
My hand came up, fingers brushing lightly along her jaw before I leaned in and pressed my mouth to her cheek, just beside the corner of her lips.
Her skin was warm and soft, the faint sound she made when I touched her going straight to my head.
“You’ve got a little time, baby.” My voice was low enough that it barely carried past her ear. “After that, I stop being patient.”
Her fingers curled into the front of my shirt, just for a second, like she wasn’t even aware she’d done it.
“I’ll see you soon,” I added, pulling back just enough to meet her eyes again.
There was heat there now, mixed with that same stubborn spark that had caught my attention the second I saw her. She didn’t answer right away, just watched me like she was trying to figure me out.
Good luck with that, baby.
I turned before I did something that would keep me there another hour, pushing through the door and dragging in a deep breath to get my head back where it needed to be.
Yeah, it didn’t fucking work.
All I could think about was tomorrow morning and exactly where Clara Winslet was going to be. Because that’s where I would be too.