Page 22 of Summer with a Ranger

“Come on, baby. We can have fun.” She cooed, sexy like. Or maybe it was supposed to be sexy, but the girl could do with a mint yesterday and every day for the rest of my life.

“Get off me,” I said softly, trying to keep a rein on my politeness.

“Can’t hold his liquor, eh?” One of the men from the deck called.

I shook my head and managed to slide on my stupid ass grin that was starting to hurt, doing a headcount that told me I was outnumbered five to one. Four, if I counted Brodie.

I’ve attended fires that smelled better than this place.

“Come on, baby.” The girl rubbed her dry crotch over my equally unresponsive lap. “You can get it up.”

“Afraid not. Always was a cheap drunk.” I smiled at her, letting my eyes empty of emotion. Everyone else saw a stupid honeymoon lovelorn; she saw a man who pulled bodies from fires that no longer looked human and lived the last few years having nightmares about them because I wasn’t about to fess up and go to counselling, just to torture myself further.

She got a glimpse of that man, and she moved her string bikini clad tush fast enough that I could breathe again after a few seconds and not inhale her stale-sex scent.

Marco might like another man’s slops or think himself a cuck-king, but there was no chance in hell I was putting my cock in a stripper when Skye was all that consumed me since she announced me as her bodyguard for the summer.

Since the day she first flounced down on the beach beside me.

Fucking fail there.

Hell, I hoped she was alright.

I shook my head, playing it up to the crowd of drinking men, wondering what the hell Marco’s game was. “Come on, guys. I already had my bachelor’s party. The stripper there could shoot things out of her pussy and hit a target.”

Fortunately the stripper they set on me scampered and wasn’t there to claim I was talking shit out of my ass at this point.

Stay with the character. It builds doubt.

And doubt breeds, face to face.

Those were Brodie’s last words to me on the brief call we had before I took off with Skye to our new beach destination. He never told me he’d be here. Though I was grateful, I wasn’t really ready for more surprises.

This was meant to be a surveillance mission, after all.

“I thought we might pay a little game of truth or dare.” Marco appeared through a door at the back of the room, beyond the crowd of men who parted to let him pass. “You see, I ask you a question, and you dare me not to pull the trigger for the answer.”

I kept my inane smile plastered across my face. “I don’t remember this game being played quite that way. But then, maybe California’s a different beast.” I shrugged.

Marco didn’t smile back. “I think you mean Texas, Mister Ranger. Isn’t that right, Skye? Isn’t this the man you had to trap in order to bring him right here, to me?”

Skye slipped out from behind Marco, her face closed, though still stunning. “That’s right,” she said, robotically.

Girl needs acting lessons. Or maybe it wasn’t as obvious to everyone else in the room. Her false front sure as shit was to me.

“Whatcha doing, honey?” I said, mustering a little fake cheer, and letting it drop inch by inch, as though the reality was setting in. A double whammy, really, as this situation was all sorts of FUBAR. My heart wanted to pound, but too many years of firefighting prevented me from losing my shit just yet.

Thank Christ, as the way she looked at me then at Marco left my blood running colder than a chilled beer in winter.

“My job, dear,” she said sugary sweetly, glaring at me.

CHAPTER NINE

SKYE

Lying to Hudson wasn’t quite like lying to anyone else. He didn’t look all butt hurt, nor did he get that fake–I only suspected it was a fake–expression that told me I wounded him somewhere deeper inside.

No, Hudson looked at me with anger underlying that stupid ass expression he plastered over his face and refused to drop.

---