Page 7 of Summer with a Ranger

Rolling my lips together, I squeezed them hard, and turned back. Keep on walking, Hudson. Right out her door. Naturally, I ignored that wise little voice. Why break a lifetime habit?

“Yeah, you’re not writing about men like me. The ones with hearts, whether they wear them on their sleeves, or hide them away for that special life partner who respects them.” I took a step closer, and she didn’t move. “The men who revere their woman, who don’t want anything more than to come home, spend time with her, and make sure her day wasn’t a shitfight, even if his was. To give her everything.” My voice cracked and I gave a hollow laugh, still closing the distance between us step by step. “You’re right. I am a hopeless romantic. Maybe someday it will pay off.”

“You mean it, don’t you?” she whispered, that blank facade coming down, along with the fragile one I recognized. Underneath she was...raw. Beautiful. “You wouldn’t hurt anyone by cheating or abuse.”

I shook my head, unlocking my jaw painfully. “Fucking never.”

A sound rose in her throat and in that second I knew exactly what happened to give her this fractured view of the world. She whirled on her heel, darting for the only other place she could run to hide in–the bathroom.

“You wanna know what a good man looks like, Skye?” I caught her swiftly and turned her into the circle of my arms, drawing her to my chest. “A good man protects. A good man knows when the boundaries have been crossed.” I released her, watching her lips part as furious breaths panted past them. “But despite that, a good man will stay.”

Stepping back, I kept an eye on her, ready to catch her if she–hell, after that I wasn’t ready to say she might swoon but...yeah.

Swoon would fit.

CHAPTER THREE

HUDSON

“Filter, remember?” she murmured, her breaths slowing. “Why do you have to be so damn perfect?” Her sigh was long, hard, and heartfelt.

My chest ached for her. “I’m far from perfect, Skye. But I’ll try to make up for the asshole who carved fear in your heart.”

“Humble too, huh?” She shook her head, scraping her hands through her hair and pushing it back off her face. “Maybe you should be the ones writing the articles.”

“That’d be a fun column.” I smirked. “The world according to Hudson. Yeah, I can see that being used as toilet paper.”

Her smile softened. “You have no idea how powerful those words were to hear, do you?”

“Just a California boy on a beach trip.” I shrugged, rubbing the back of my neck.

Her lilies and dewdrops scent wafted around me, filling my head with images of lazy afternoons in the cottage, kissing her until our mouths were puffy with it, and feeding her. That was a different fantasy all on its own. Fuck, just being near her was intoxicating. I couldn’t imagine being this close to her full time. I’d never get an inch of work done, she was that damn distracting.

“Is that all?” She bit her lip, closing the distance between us, her lashes fluttering as she looked up at me and away a little too fast.

I caught her chin in my fingers, gently directing her gaze back to meet mine. “Yeah.” My mouth dried on the lie. The partial lie. I have to get fucking past this. “I’m not that deep, beach girl. Just a guy having downtime.”

“And what about the shady as fuck little shop you disappeared into yesterday? You came out smelling like pot and...other stale substances.” Her nose wrinkled.

I barked a sharp laugh. “Gonna dig into all my secrets, princess?” I backed her into the wall, bracing my hands either side of her head, my arms at full extension to keep some semblance of distance, even if it was a shitty facade.

“Maybe?” She had the balls to toss her hair. Silky strands wrapped around my forearms, slithering over my skin like she’d just run her fingers along me.

I found it damn hard to breathe.

“Then dig, but don’t be shocked when I wanna do a little exposing of my own.” I dropped a hand to trace her ribs, resting my knuckles lightly against the sweet curve of her hip. If I wrapped my hand around her, she’d be wearing nothing in a short period and I wasn’t about to break my promise to her–I wouldn’t force her or put her on the spot so bad she felt like she had to choose something she didn’t want.

Yeah, I was that kind of soppy romantic ass.

I shouldn’t have worried.

Her hands pressed to my abs in answer, sliding up–thankfully, as my grasp on my control frayed–to rest on my chest. “Who are you, Hudson Whittington?” she breathed.

“Just a guy...” I leaned down and pressed my mouth over hers.

So much for resolve. Or not getting involved.

Fuck it. I need to taste her.

---