Page 21 of Ranger's Code

Instead, I turn back into the bakery, scent still clinging to my nostrils like a warning.

Maggie is watching me, eyes wide, pulse ticking fast at her throat.

I meet her gaze as I hold up the slip, the paper already curling under my grip. Then I lift the slip to my nose and inhale slowly, deliberately.

“We’ve got another problem,” I mutter, my tone low and lethal. I look down at the slip, then back at the door, jaw tight enough to creak. “And this one? This one reeks of trouble we can’t afford to ignore.”

CHAPTER11

MAGGIE

Iwake to the echo of his absence. The spot where Gideon had been is still warm, but he’s not here. For one soft second, I allow myself to believe he might just be in the bathroom or getting water—then my hand lands on the folded note resting on the pillow beside me.

On the roof. Back soon.

It’s scrawled in bold, military block letters, all edges and precision, just like him. No heart, no smiley face, no sweet nothings. Just presence. That’s so very Gideon. But it’s enough. More than enough, really. My fingers brush the paper as I sit up, his scent clinging to the sheets, and something inside me aches with the kind of longing I don’t want to name.

I pad barefoot to the kitchen, the moonlight still clinging to the loft like a secret. The space is quiet, too quiet, with only the soft hum of the refrigerator and the distant sound of waves breaking against the sand outside. I wander over to the desk nook, the office space tucked into the far corner of the open-plan loft where Gideon was supposed to have been sleeping on the murphy bed—so much for that plan.

I grab my phone and creep back into my bedroom. I sink into the reading chair tucked into a nook, phone to my ear, waiting as it rings. Kari picks up and yawns. I don’t realize how much I’ve been holding in until I hear her speak.

“Mags? Good god, do you know what time it is? If you're calling to tell me you’ve finally binged watched that docuseries I told you about…”

My throat tightens. My mouth opens, then shuts again. I swallow, force my voice into something resembling casual. “Not exactly.”

Kari’s voice softens immediately. “Okay. What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine,” I lie, my voice straining for casual but catching slightly at the end. “Just… needed to talk. Or vent. Or scream into the void for a second.”

There’s a beat of silence, the kind that stretches just long enough to make my stomach twist. Then Kari’s voice drops a notch, full of amused horror and something that sounds way too close to glee. “Oh, my God. You slept with him.”

I groan and fall back against the pillows, covering my face with one hand like I can smother the heat rising in my cheeks. “You’re not supposed to be psychic, Kari. That’s cheating.”

“I’m not. But I know you. And I know him. And I know that particular brand of existential dread in your voice. It’s the same one you had when you got accepted into pastry school and almost didn’t go because you were afraid you’d fall in love with the idea of something that might never love you back. You don’t get that tone unless your heart’s already more than halfway committed.”

I exhale through my nose, my chest tightening around the words before I speak them. “It was a mistake, or I thought it was. I tried convincing myself of that all day, but then...”

Even as I say it, something inside me flinches. The words don’t feel right. Should I even be talking to Kari about any of this? I feel like I’ve said too much and not enough—like the kind of thing you say when you’re trying to take back something that meant too much, too fast.

“Oh, honey,” Kari says, and the two words are packed with so much amusement, sympathy, and smug satisfaction that I can practically hear her grinning through the phone. It isn’t judgment—more like gleeful vindication. Like she’s been waiting years to see this exact emotional chaos unfold and is now living for every second.

“I mean it. He was there, I was stressed, and… it just happened. It shouldn't have, but it did... and then it happened again. It was a lapse, that’s all. A lapse. It’s not like we’re suddenly a thing now, or that there’s some epic love story brewing. It’s not that deep, Kari. Seriously. So whatever romantic comedy scenario you’ve cooked up in your head, maybe just… don’t. I don’t know why I called you...”

“You called me because I’m your best friend and you’ve been in love with Gideon since before he joined the Marines. Don’t even try to deny it. You used to turn into a babbling wreck any time he so much as looked in your direction. You’d blush for hours and then claim it was the heat or your blood sugar or Mercury being in retrograde or whatever excuse you thought sounded plausible at the time.” Kari’s voice is equal parts affectionate and smug, clearly reveling in every second of this development like she’s waited more than a decade for it to finally play out.

“That’s not fair. I’ve changed. I’m not that girl anymore. I don’t blush when someone gives me a second glance, and I don’t fantasize about someone who barely knew I existed. I run my own damn business, I take care of myself, and I don’t need anyone else to fix my problems.” That part about fantasizing about Gideon is a lie, but Kari doesn’t know that.

“No, you’re not,” agrees Kari. “You’re stronger. Smarter. Fiercer. And still absolutely horrible at lying to yourself—which, by the way, has always been kind of endearing. Like a baby duck trying to look intimidating. Except when it’s driving you crazy. Then it just makes me feel like I should charge for emotional labor, or at least handing out honorary therapy degrees.”

I close my eyes and groan. “What if I ruined everything?”

It’s not just Gideon I’m worried about. It’s the whole damn thing—my business, my sanity, my friendship with Kari. I feel as if everything is balancing on a blade’s edge. I don’t know what I’ll have left if I let this spiral, let myself fall for him, and everything goes sideways. I’ve opened a door I hadn’t meant to, and now I can’t unsee what’s on the other side.

“You didn’t.” Kari’s voice doesn’t waver—just the opposite. It steadies, softens. “Mags, look at me—well, mentally. You couldn’t ruin us if you tried. You’re my person. There’s nothing you could do, no matter how complicated or messy, that would change that. You hear me?”

“You can’t say that for certain. He’s your brother, and I know how close you are.”

Kari pauses. “I do know. Clearly you aren’t thinking straight. I do think, however, we need to acknowledge the slightly awkward, rather well-endowed, I’m told, elephant in the room.”

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