Debra Salonen - Her Rebel to Kiss

Her Rebel to Kiss

A Love, Montana Romance

Debra Salonen

Her Rebel to Kiss

Copyright 2016 Debra Salonen

The Tule Publishing Group, LLC

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

ISBN: 978-1-943963-90-4

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To my fabulous readers who have been part of the Big Sky Mavericks experience. Your enthusiasm, encouragement, friendship and reviews have meant the world to me.

Dear Reader,

Note to self: if you call your hero a rebel in the title, expect him to give you trouble when you go to write his story. Sigh.

Actually, I loved Justin...once I got to know himand figured out what drove him to risk life and limb climbing mountains. Hes a complicated man so, naturally, his love interest had to be a challenge, too. And to level the playing field and give love a chance, I decided they needed to meet at a masked ball. This was such fun to write it needs to become a tradition. Lets all meet in Marietta next New Years Evemasks required.

HER REBEL TO KISS wraps up phase II of the Big Sky Mavericks series, but I left the door open for new spin-offs because Ive come to love these characters so much they feel like family. I hope you have, too.

Until next book,

Deb

Nicole Richards pressed her forehead to the porthole-sized round window, straining to catch the hint of sunrise beginning to lighten the edges of clouds miles below the small but luxurious jet. Theyd left Paris later than theyd wanted. Meetings that ran long. Traffic every bit as dense and congested as L.A.s. She was bone tired but sleep eluded her.

Your mind wont turn off, huh? her travel mate and boss asked from the fully reclined seat across from hers. Mine, either.

She turned her head to look at J. Angus Hooper, a man some called genius, some a crackpot economist who got lucky. Nikki knew he was a little of both. At eighty-one, Angus resembled a hobbit more than a captain of industry, and yet his diverse holdings circled the earth, his wealth routinely placing his name on the Forbess wealthiest Americans list. He was also one of the kindest, shrewdest, and most unpredictable men shed ever met. He often admitted he lived to keep her on her toes.

A reference, she believed, to their initial meeting a dozen years earlier. When half the doctors on staff at the rehab hospital where they each were residingfor different reasonstold Nikki shed never walk again, J. Angus said, Baloney. With a contagious air of optimism and zeal, Angus almost single-handedly bullied her into getting out of her wheelchair and pushing through the pain to the point where she could walk without help.

She liked to say their friendship was forged in mutual anguish. J. Angus had been recovering from his second stroke at the time, and shouting orders at Nikki had, remarkably, given him back his power of speech.

Ive been lying here thinking about missed opportunities and all the what-ifs that go with that sort of thing. Do you ever wonder where youd be if youd kissed that one person who got away but took a piece of your heart with her? His chin turned. Or him, in your case.

A name sprang to mind. A face. Her first crush. Not as often as I did I in my late teens, she admitted truthfully. I like to think Ive grown up a bit since then.

Pah. Maturity only counts in horseshoes.

Her lips curved despite the energy the effort took. His unique type of mondegreens usually hid a much deeper meaning, but she was too tired to probe. Instead, she gave him what he wanted. A name. The boy shed secretly pined for her entire teenage years, until she acted on her desire and ruined both their lives.

Justin Oberman. The boy next door. Clich, huh?

Clichs are shared human experiences that everyone can relate to. What happened?

He was two years older than me and barely knew I existed...until my freshman year of college. I crashed his climbing party and fell off the side of a cliff.

The old mans eyes went wide. Hes that boy.

She stared at the ceiling, remembering the image imprinted on her mind. Justin Oh. Thats what all the girls called him. A true rebel with a style all his own. Not goth or grunge. He made Patagonia cool.

Hes the boy who carried you to the helicopter after you fell.

A statement of fact. An act of heroic selflessness that made him Superman in her eyes. Sadly, his act of kindness cost him so much she could barely bring herself to think about that shameful period of her life.

Instead, she closed her eyes and remembered how safe shed felt in his arms. The reality of the moments after she fellthe blood, the pain, the panic in the eyes of her friendshad become dim and slightly out of focus over the years. Instead, she remembered with crisp intensity the look of compassion in Justins beautiful, gray-green eyes.

His chest had been heaving from the exertion of carrying her across a minefield of shale and bowling ball-size boulders. Rivulets of sweat had trickled down the side of his face. Shed wanted to reach up and brush away the drops but the line of communication between her brain and her extremities hadnt been working. Her first inkling of what was to come.

Youre going to be okay. Hed told her. Dont you let anyone tell you otherwise.

She couldnt remember falling, but shed fallen completely, utterly in love during Justinssome said misguided and dangerousrescue attempt. Unfortunately, everything went downhill from there and she never saw him again.

She wondered if she ever would.

Probably not, she thought.

But when she closed her eyes, she pictured Justins strong arms wrapping her in the sort of hug that shut out all the trials and turmoil of the world. A girl could dream. And the man of her dreams was a fantasy, nothing more because the real Justin Oberman had every reason in the world to hate her.

I wont wear it and you cant make me.

Arms crossed, shoulders braced for a fight, Justin Oberman eyed the ridiculous object Flynn Bensen held out for Justin and fellow friend Tucker Montgomery to see. All three stood just inside the entrance of the gloriously festive ballroom of the Graff Hotel in Marietta, Montana.

Despite his serious tone, Justin hoped they wouldnt have to resort to a firefighter method for solving disputes. Theyd look pretty silly wrestling around in tuxedos as well-dressed New Years Eve revelers filed past.

Quit being such a baby. Flynn chided. My wife-to-be worked her butt off to make the Big Sky Mavericks New Years Eve Masked Ball happen. I promised Kat wed all three show up in tuxes and masks. Are you going to make a liar out of me?