Page 20 of Merry with a Ranger

“Damn, girl. If this is how I die, I’m good with it,” I breathed when my head stopped ringing.

She managed a hiccup as she lowered my gun. I caught her as her knees bent, collapsing beneath her. The gun tumbled from her hand. I caught that too, flicking the safety back on, and sliding it beside the box under the bed. Then I tucked her intomy side and wrapped the blankets around her as she began to shake, her brief spurt of adrenaline leaving her as fast as it came on.

“Never actually taken out a live target before, huh?” I kissed the top of her head. “Proud of you, love.”

She hiccupped amongst the sobs. “You have?”

“Yeah.” I huffed out a laugh. “Couple of times now. Still feel shit on the inside no matter what I pretend. Wanna tell me who taught you to shoot like that?”

“I did.”

The knock I expected still didn’t come, but with the door kicked in like that, who needed to knock?

Grant Little-Lawson stared back at me when I turned my head, then his attention dropped to the body on the floor. “I’m sorry it had to be you.”

I figured he wasn’t talking to me, or the dead man staining the carpet. “Someone gonna tell me why I got a dead body on the floor and why I have to explain to my boss why my gun was fired by someone who isn’t me?” I didn’t let go of Bonnie, and she still shook in my arms beneath the sheets.

Grant made the wise choice not to comment on the fact that we shared a bed, nor our state of undress. He did, however, need to start talking, or she did, because resort management and the local cops were going to be up our combined asses in a matter of minutes.

As much as I enjoyed being a Texas Ranger, that shiny little star didn’t mean shit halfway across the country. For the first time since I resigned, I missed my FBI badge with a vengeance.

“I want to tell him.”

Bonnie’s voice came from the region of my armpit. I tugged gently on her hair and ignored her father who didn’t scare me half as much as he had when I was a kid.

“Love, if you want to tell me your story then you’d better hurry up. We have a very limited time before I’m going to need to explain myself and put pants on.” I paused. “And we should probably move to a different room.” The small living area off my bedroom would do. While I was used to the aroma of death, I doubted Bonnie had that life experience.

Grant sighed. “I’ll run interference. Buy you a few minutes. Best talk fast, Bon-Bon.”

I carried Bonnie to the two-seater sofa, still wrapped in the sheet, collecting our clothes as we went.

Her fingers flicked at my side, nails scratching my ribs lightly at the nickname she never told him she hated. “I’ll be quick,” she muttered, tickling me with her breath.

I waited until Grant left the apartment, positioning his bulk with his back to the doorway so no one could see in, and hauled her out of my tickle zone to slam my mouth down on hers. “That was the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen, love,” I murmured into her mouth.

Grant coughed not so discreetly from the resort room doorway.

Bonnie grimaced, ignoring both him and the dead man congealing on the floor behind us, but at least we didn’t have to breathe him in now.

“I need clothes,” she whispered.

My arms wrapped around her middle as I hauled her against me. “Right now you need to tell me what the fuck happened.” I captured her jaw between my fingers and fixed her with a hard stare. “I’m not gonna leave you to face any of this alone. I’m not leavingyou, love. But I need information, because I can’t protect you without that.”

Her mouth made the sweetest little moue without her knowing it, I thought, and I kissed her before she could say anything. Hands swatted at my shoulders until I gave her air.

“I can’t talk if you do that,” she hissed. “I–”

Her gaze darted to the door, and my arms tightened. Breath left her, and it was like her entire body deflated. I knew she wasn't ready to talk but we’d run out of the luxury of time. Her heart rate picked up against my arms as I pressed my lips to her temple and promised I’d make love to her at some future point.

Sometime. When I could contain myself from needing to screw us both into next week. Month.

Year.

With my name next to hers on a certificate.

“The night you were supposed to take me—” she stalled. I gave her time, stroking her arms and tried not to glance back at the doorway, counting mentally in my head and ignoring the stupid damn clock. “That night you, we— everyone. Daddy had people around while I got ready. Men.” Her voice cracked.

My arms tightened about her frame. I loosened them with effort. “It’s okay, love. I won’t leave you, and they can’t hurt you now. Looks like your daddy taught you how to protect yourself just fine.”

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