Once a Rebel... by Nikki Logan

Of how fearless you are. How provocative.’
    She shrugged. ‘That’s Shiloh.’
    He stared at her. ‘I’d like to meet Shirley some day.’
    Shirley lifted her gaze to Hayden’s. ‘I don’t think she’d be a match for your sarcasm.’
    The tic of his eye was almost a wince. ‘But Shiloh is?’
    She lifted her chin. ‘Shiloh most definitely is.’
    They stared each other down as music thumped, muted, from behind them. Two equals, perfectly matched.
    ‘So the next one is yours,’ Hayden finally said.
    ‘Excuse me?’
    ‘Our next adventure. Your choice. Your challenge. See if you can top this.’
    ‘I didn’t realise we were taking turns.’ Or doing it again.
    ‘Seems equitable,’ he said. ‘You’re all for equity, I know.’
    ‘You picked a pretty easy one.’
    ‘How about you dress up in a loincloth and brave a house full of nine year olds, then tell me how easy this one was.’
    She stared at him. Thinking. ‘All right.’
    ‘All right, what?’
    ‘All right, I’ll be your warrior sidekick. For the party. Since I enjoyed half of the reward today, it seems only fair that I should pay half the price.’
    ‘You want to come to the kids’ party with me?’
    Yes. Inexplicably.
Maybe it had something to do with seeing how he was with children? You could tell a lot about a man from how he interacted with animals and kids. Maybe she was just looking forthe kiss of death to her lingering question marks about Hayden Tennant. To put them to the spear once and for all.
    ‘I’m willing to do my part. In the interests of equity,’ she said.
    ‘You’ll have to dress up. Or down in this case.’
    ‘Not a problem.’
    ‘You’re serious?’
    ‘Completely. Just tell me who you’re going as and I’ll match you.’
    ‘You even have to ask?’
    ‘Leonidas.’ Of course; the Spartan king who’d first uttered those defiant words.
Come and take them.
    She could well imagine Hayden leading a dwindling army into certain death with defiance on their faces and blood-mingled sweat in their eyes. Barefoot, wild, determined.
    Half-naked.
    She shifted her eyes away from him as warmth suffused her. Perhaps the party wouldn’t be entirely without reward, then. And just like that, she’d decided. Even though saying yes to this was a de facto agreement to undertake more of the list with him.
    Her breath thinned. ‘When is it?’
    ‘Two weeks Saturday. I’ll text you the address.’
    She flicked her hair back over her shoulder. ‘Great. In the meantime I’ll get to work on our next tick off the list.’
    How subtly
my
had become
our.
Had she made the mental shift when she’d agreed to come to thesymphony with him? Or he’d agreed to go to the dolphins with her? Or was it implicit in the moment she’d curled her fingers so tightly in his during the Moonlight Sonata and she’d not objected when he’d pressed his lips to her forehead?
    Maybe he’d branded them
they
with that one gentle action?
    Certainly he’d branded her. She could still feel the place his mouth had lingered.
    Shirley snorted inwardly. Or was she just a whole lot easier and a whole lot more female than she’d believed? One promise of a bit of gratuitous flesh on show and she totally caved in.
    But some concessions were more tingly than others, it seemed. She took a deep breath. Finishing the list was now a combined effort. She had a point to prove about the real meaning of her mother’s unfulfilled wish list and she suspected he had his own agenda, his own dark reasons for wanting to prove her wrong.
    Yet, somehow, tackling the list with someone else—even if it was a someone else with a vested interest in not succeeding—made it seem less lonely, more achievable. More rewarding.
    Even if it was also entirely foolish.
    ‘Okay, see you two weeks Saturday, then.’
    He glanced at the large auditorium doors. ‘You don’t want to go back in?’
    Did she? They could walk back in after the first intermission. But how could she top either of