Page 15 of Protected By the Ranger

“Then why don’t you?” I ask as I pull my lower lip with my teeth and wiggle my eyebrows.

He groans and mutters something that sounds like “You’re killing me” under his breath. He walks towards me with a lethal grace, leans down and grabs my chin, and pulls me into a scorching hot kiss.

His lips move against me, his tongue darting to lick them. He sucks my lower lip into his mouth, biting firmly, and I melt into his embrace. His hand cups my cheek, his thumb caressing my soft skin. He breaks the kiss and rests his head against my forehead.

Gideon shakes his head, “For the kind of trouble Billy gets into, its good he has nine lives.”

I mockingly pat Gideon on his shoulder, showing my pity, and he nods sadly before moving away. I look out the window and see that a calm and serene morning has replaced the stormy night. Birds chirp, perched on a branch next to the cabin.

Gideon’s expression turns serious. “Once I’m back, I’ll make you blueberry pancakes. And after that, we’ll go meet Liam.”

The dismissive attitude of the last man in uniform I spoke to surfaces in my mind.

“He’s a good man, someone I trust with my life. He will believe you. And I’ll be right there by your side,” he assures me, running his knuckle over my cheek.

I only nod in response, lost in his touch.

Gideon pulls a thick plaid shirt, the fabric rustling softly as he buttons it up and grabs his keys. He turns to leave but I grip his wrist. “Be safe,” I try to sound casual but can’t help the worry that creeps into my voice. The memory of that horrific nightmare still clings to me, making me reluctant to see him go, even for a little while.

He studies my face intently and then presses a quick kiss to my forehead, “I always am.” He lingers at my temple, slowly tilts my chin with his finger, and gives me a soft kiss.

His phone rings again, shattering the spell. He pulls back with a frustrated groan and I smile at his exasperation. “Why did the storm have to end?” he jokes, and his eyes light up at my laughter.

“My number is on the counter. Call me if you need anything,” he orders me sternly. I put my hands up in surrender.

“Don’t worry. It will all be over soon,” he says, and with one last lingering look, he walks out of the room. He calls out once more before I hear the front door close behind him.

His words linger, a punch to the gut. Does he mean everything between us too? The thought makes my heart ache. With Gideon gone, the room feels colder. I pull the covers up, inhaling the last traces of his scent.

I get up slowly, feeling sluggish. Outside, the world is fresh and calm after the storm, a stark contrast to the turmoil inside me. The thought of losing Gideon, of everything between us coming to an end, fills me with a deep sorrow.

I walk into the empty living room. The silence amplifies old memories of baking pies with Grandma. After her death, watching Grandpa fade away was heart-wrenching. I miss them so much every day, but I feel closer to them staying here. Their essence still lingers in the corners of this home.

Seeing the flour jar on the counter, I decide to bake Grandma’s favorite baguette. I gather the ingredients, preheat the oven, and knead the dough, its cool softness soothing me. The scent of yeast fills the air as I sip coffee by the front door. Tiny snowflakes still fall gently to the ground, leaving it covered in a delicate coat of ice.

I think back to the summer picnics by the lake, filled with sandwiches and stories. My heart heavy with memories, I decide to visit the lake again.

I tuck the freshly baked bread in a box, leaving a note for Gideon, then bundle up in his hoodie and shoes. After locking up with the spare key, I step outside.

The earthy scent of damp soil mingled with the crisp, clean air fills my lungs. I find the trail to the lake through the woods. Each leaf sparkles in the sunlight like tiny emeralds.

The ground is slick, frozen mud and twisted roots forcing me to limp cautiously. My wounded leg throbs, but I press on, half-limping my way around the gnarled roots.

The lake, locally known as the ‘mirror of the mountain,’ stretches before me, its icy surface cracked and bubbled. The ice, clear in places, shows glimpses of the dark water beneath it.

I look around and find it easily—spot the square rock jutting into the lake. Walking to its far edge, I lean down and spot the initials “AK” I carved long ago.

In the solitude of the moment, my mind wanders to Gideon. Memories of last night with him warm my cheeks despite the cold. The thought of leaving him twists my heart. I pull out my phone, relieved to see a signal.

I call Sam, but when it goes unanswered, I leave a voicemail.

“Sammy, it’s me,” I say, my voice shaky. “No signal out here, or I’d have called sooner. It’s been crazy.”

I tell her about Gideon. “I broke into his house, and instead of kicking me out, he took care of me—in more ways than one.” I chuckle, shaping snow into a ball, my fingers numb.

“You always say I don’t take risks, but I did,” I murmur. “It’s crazy, we barely know each other, but it feels so right with him.” I squeeze the snowball, the cold biting into my skin. My words seem to hang in the crisp air, echoing in the quiet mountains.

“But babe, I’m scared. What if he doesn’t see it the way I do? I’m terrified to ask him but I need to know if it’s real for him too.”

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