Page 26 of In Love with a Ranger

“You are welcome – and it’s the truth,” he acknowledged softly, again, not bothering to retract his statement or cover it up. “I think you are really nice on the outside, only matched by the inside. It’s a very pleasant surprise, and I don’t mean that badly, it’s just that you are unlike anyone I’ve ever met. I’m acknowledging that openly.”

“You are different from what I expected too – and I think you are really nice, inside and out, as well.”

He smiled softly and nodded before hesitating.

“What?” she asked.

“Your cousin, your mother, my mother, my very conservative family,” he stressed in a hushed voice, not looking away as his eyes searched hers. “They would all be bothered by us sharing a cabin and a bed?”

“I can honestly say that they would flip their lids,” she admitted. “You think your family is conservative? Ha! Mine invented the word and is well known back home for their reputation. If you aren’t married by the time you are twenty, they start searching for someone suitable for you.”

“How’d you escape?”

“I left for college and have been dodging that matchmaking bullet ever since. You?”

“I’m the eldest of eight siblings, remember?” he admitted, as if that said everything. “Married young, no birth control, church every Sunday, no drinking, no swearing, no nothing…”

“How’d you escape?” she asked, using his own words.

“I left for the Army – and dodged everything until now.”

“Now?”

“My mother wanted me to come home so she could tend to me while I healed – and I said ‘no,’ hopping on the next plane. I know she would have been parading a line of women before me, all while taking away my man card.”

“Can’t have that,” she chuckled softly. “A man-card is needed, and the only woman here is unsuitable.”

“Why?” he asked quickly, causing her to pause.

“I’m not looking to get married or give up everything,” she began. “I’m finishing up my thesis to get my doctorate, so I can start a practice somewhere… and well, nobody is asking.”

“What if I asked you?”

Those five softly spoken words hung in the air as she stared at him in confusion. Was he really asking her to marry him? Why? To avoid having to marry someone later on? To take control of his life, so his pushy mother didn’t? Why would he ask a perfect stranger to marry him?

“Christina,” he began after a few moments of shocked silence from her. She had just laid there, her eyes searching his as her brain worked on processing things, looking at all the angles, and struggling with it. “We’re friends, and this is so very nice, but what if we solved all of our problems by taking an unexpected pivot to the right? What if we got married, kept things like they are, continuing to share a space together safely while being able to enjoy these little talks together?”

“You want to get married… in name only?”

“We’re friends,” he said quietly. “We’ve never been on a date or kissed, but we are sharing tight living quarters, a bed, and I really like you. I can think of so many worse things – but being married to a friend is not one of them.”

“Wait a s-second,” Christina stammered, sitting up quickly and looking at him. “I’m not a fool, you know. You want to marry me and skip the bedroom stuff or emotional ties that come with it? I’m getting my degree in animal husbandry and what about urges?” she asked hoarsely, her face feeling like it was a thousand degrees from the embarrassment of speaking that question aloud to Gideon.

“Well, if you get ‘urges’…” he began, smirking.

“I’m not,” she interrupted quickly.

“But if you get them…”

“I won’t,” she retorted.

“But if you do,” he pressed firmly. “I think we can pivot once again and figure something out. It’s one of the benefits of being married.”

“What happens if you are ‘urging’ and I’m distinctly not feeling ‘urge-like’?” she began again, waving her hands as she spoke, feeling more and more embarrassed to be discussing this with him. Cows were different; she could talk about insemination, procreation, and other things without blinking an eye, but this was her gorgeous roommate, who was currently lying on her bed, fully dressed, discussing urges with her.

Gideon sat up and looked at her, reaching across the blanket to touch her hand. It was a small gesture meant to comfort, but it sent a shiver down her spine of awareness. She was a woman, alone with a man, talking about things that weren’t discussed in polite company.

“Christina…”

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