Page 6 of Summer with a Ranger

“Good.” She smiled, and there was heat in her gaze, too. “Let’s go back to those country areas. If those women suddenly did a lap dance for their very conservative partner, they could be labelled as sluts, abused, or thrown out. Certainly some would become homeless or humiliated. Maybe...” Her smile faded but her gaze remained intense. She didn’t finish her sentence, and she didn’t need to.

Point made.

I clenched my teeth. “I get that. But it’s–”

“You do. Really?”

“Really, Skye. I do. It’s making a man feel so objectified reading those words. The language. Where’s the love and attraction between your couple in that scenario?” I searched her face this time, my palms pressed to my board shorts. Designer, sure. But only because they came from the closest shop in Texas when I was offered the job on a time trial basis.

“Oh. My. You are, aren’t you?” She shot me a false eye roll and a snarky little smirk I wanted to kiss right off her face. “You’re a romantic. For fuck’s sake, Hudson. Grow up. The world is here for what we take, to make us feel better for our shortcomings. Let me assure you no woman will be happy with everything you do. Love doesn’t work that way.” Her short speech ended on a decisively bitter tang.

I pushed her laptop aside on her tote, leaned forward, and braced an arm over her head on her towel, forcing her to lean back or end up pressed chest to chest with me. Close enough to breathe in her lilies and dewdrops scent. Romantic? Hell, yes. I was a tragic, and I’d cling to that and my man card on my way to hell or my grave one day, whichever came first. No way was I stopping just because...

Skye stared at me through hooded eyes half-covered by thick lashes I wanted to brush my mouth over, and breathe her in. The need in me was reflected in her mirrored gaze. In her dilated pupils. But there was something more there...deeper than desire, something a little darker...

I swore inside my head, and touched her lips tenderly with aching fingers, wishing I’d figured her out that much sooner. Taken a risk that much sooner. “Who hurt you so bad you can’t wear rose tinted glasses for a single moment, Skye?” I brushed my fingers over her cheek, guiding a stray golden strand behind her ear.

She squeaked, and pressed her hands to my chest, though she didn’t push me away. At all. “Don’t touch me. Those things aren’t real, Hudson.” She slipped out from under me, already packing her things into her beach tote, her hands busy as she talked.

Hiding.

She shot me a fragile look, both filled with anger that I’d uncovered her secret and something...more, right before she took off across the beach, her sandals dangling from her fingers and spraying sand everywhere.

My chest closed again. I shouldn’t have said anything. Should I? Fuck, I had no idea. But I couldn’t leave her hurting like that, not when I was the one responsible for upsetting her.

Yeah, that sounded as good a reason as any.

I grabbed my towel, and something hit my foot. Something sharp with metal edges. I collected her purse, tucking the overfilled thing with cards and change and a star necklace poking out at all angles from it, and chased her across the road, darting between pedestrians and finally catching her in the hallway of the cottage.

“Damn, you move fast,” I huffed, not really out of breath but startled she nearly out ran me. I got no answer as she shoved her door–her unlocked door, what the actual fuck?–open with trembling hands.

Taking the risk I probably shouldn’t, I followed her in, closing and locking her door behind me. “Skye, I’m–”

“You shouldn't be in here.” She stared at me with a blank face, all the roiling emotion of a moment before completely gone.

I blinked at her. Angry Skye, I could manage, even if she irritated the shit out of me. Derisive, snobby Skye, even fragile Skye. But blank Skye? Nope. Seeing her close off like that broke something inside me.

Swallowing hard, I held out her purse. “You left this.”

She stared at me for a second, then caught the pink thing that matched her laptop case. Cursing myself internally as an utter asshole I let her take it, using the movement to circle her wrist in my hand loosely, stopping her retreat.

“Wait.”

“No.”

My eyes shut and I let her go.

Silence fell in the room.

“Just like that?” Her voice trembled a little.

I opened my eyes. “Just like that.”

“You won’t fight for what you want?” Blue eyes bored into mine like she could pierce my fucking soul.

“I’ll never force a woman,” I corrected her, my voice straining. My hands fisted at my sides, and I turned away from her. “Be safe, Skye.”

“You’re all the things I didn’t write about.” Surprise filled her voice.

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