Rebel (Renegades 2)

Easier said than done. Especially for someone who didn’t understand the concept of family. But for Wes, she smiled and nodded.

Approaching the house, Rubi realized the scene inside was even more chaotic than she’d first suspected. There weren’t just people in the kitchen and living room, but milling deeper in the house as well. And there were more children, more than just Wes’s two nieces.

Anxiety sang over her nerves. For a reason she couldn’t begin to understand, she flashed back to her life as a kid and all the turmoil with her father. Their millions of fights. Her dozens of nannies—only a few of whom were ever good to Rubi.

At the door, Wes leaned forward and gripped the handle. But he paused, settled those beautiful gray eyes on Rubi. “I’ve got your back, okay? Just be yourself, baby. I know my family, and if I love you, they’ll love you. ”

One of the kids inside squealed—the pitch so high, the sound so loud, Rubi winced. A houseful of laughter followed, but that didn’t settle Rubi’s nerves. Wes opened the door and pushed it wide, his other hand settled on her lower back, ushering her into the house.

Panic gripped Rubi. Stepping over the threshold felt a hell of a lot like stepping off an emotional cliff. And she had the most surreal sensation of time slowing as she stood there on the polished hardwood floors, just where she’d been earlier today.

The house slowly went eerily quiet as conversations stopped and all attention turned on them. Correction—on her. She swore every person in the room gave her a slow sweep with their eyes, from the very tip of Rubi’s head to the pointed heels of her pumps. She calculated most of the gazes filled with shock. Not exactly a

surprise she didn’t fit in.

Most of the guests were dressed down in jeans, T-shirts, and boots, including the women. One older man wore overalls. Overalls. Rubi didn’t even know they made those anymore. The women kept their hair mostly one length, their faces mostly clean of makeup, their bodies bare of jewelry but a simple wedding band here and there.

If she hadn’t felt awkward over fitting in before, she sure as shit did now.

“Hey, Uncle John. ” Wes’s voice seemed to kick-start time again, jolting Rubi out of her funk, and the room churned back into real-time speed again. Guests’ gazes, ones that had seemed frozen, strayed back to their conversations and sound filled the space. Rubi felt like she’d just come off some mind-altering drug.

He closed the door at her back, and, keeping one hand on her shoulder, he offered the other to his uncle standing near the door. “Great to see you. ”

The older man, silver-haired and attractive with those familiar crystal blue eyes, grinned. Rubi wanted to like his family, she really did. And despite Birdie calling her Missy, Rubi had found the woman kind. But there was a familiar look in the man’s eyes as he surveyed Rubi that told her he wasn’t a guy she’d like.

“This is my girlfriend, Rubi. ” Wes’s introduction was as casual and noncommittal as they came, but the label “girlfriend” made her restless, as if the simple thought of being assigned to one man gave her the urge to escape.

“Well, Wes,” John said, offering his hand to Rubi. “You always snag the beauties, don’t you?”

Rubi didn’t like the inappropriate dig at Wes which mentioned other women in front of his “girlfriend,” and she didn’t like the insinuation that she was no different from the other women in Wes’s life—but she smiled politely anyway.

“Where did you come from?” he asked with a derogatory note in his voice.

She pulled her hand back and smiled. The worst thing she could do was let him rattle her. “Some days it feels like Venus, but I live in Los Angeles. You?”

“Kansas City. ”

“You look great,” Wes told him. “Took off a few pounds?” He gripped the man’s bicep beneath a crewneck sweater. “Beefing up?”

“That heart scare last year did the trick. But it’s tough for me to get to the gym. ” The man’s gaze slid toward Rubi, his mouth curved in more of a smirk than a smile. “I mean, it’s not like I get to play games and set my own schedule at work like Wes does, right? Some of us have responsibilities. ”

John laughed at his own joke with way too much satisfaction. Rubi’s temper flared and Wes tensed beside her. His hand tightened, signaling an intent to move on. But she wasn’t done here.

“Or priorities. I know Wes works some long-ass days, but he’s always at the gym at five a. m. ” Rubi gave John a smile designed to make his circuits blow. “So what do you do?”

“Doctor,” John said, his tone carrying an edge of my-work-is-more-important-that’s-why-I-don’t-get-to-the-gym. “I have my own family practice. ”

“Nice,” Rubi said, feigning impression, then wrinkled her nose. “I bet you have to be on call a lot. ”

“No, not much. ” He’d done just what Rubi had expected—contradicted himself in an effort to appear important. “One of the perks of having my own practice. ”

“Right, right,” she said, her voice thick with appreciation, giving him one last stroke before she pulled out the knife. “Oh, but, now wait. ” She tilted her head and pushed a casual lightness into her tone. “You have your own practice, but you don’t set your own schedule?” She chuckled at her upcoming joke, much the way John had laughed at his own. “Man, that secretary really has you by the balls, doesn’t she?”

John’s grin fell. Confused indignation filled his eyes. And Rubi reveled in popping the man’s inflated ego.

She turned to Wes. “You really do have it good. Work hard and play hard all at the same time, loving every minute of it. And all when it suits you. The killer money doesn’t hurt either. ” She leaned into him, slid both hands around his arm and stared up at him like a starstruck groupie. “And you have me. ”

He had an I-know-what-you’re-up-to quirk to his mouth. “No doubt. I wake up every morning thinking what a lucky bastard I am. ”