Page 18 of The Ranger
I need to fuck her.
Can’t fuck her.
I know she’s not seeing anyone else.I’d know.I think.I pull away from the curb as that thought ruminates and starts to bug me.In a month, she won’t be pregnant anymore, and I won’t have any right to demand she stay single.You don’t now; you idiot.
When I glance over and see her messaging someone, I bite.
“What’s his name?”
“Mr.Noneofyourbusiness,” Scarlett replies without glancing up.
I clench my teeth.“Well, at least he can’t get you pregnant.”
This time she does look me in the eye before mine return to the road.
“Yet.”
Do not kill her.Do not kill her.Do not kill her.
I pull up outside her house and go around the car to open the door, so she can struggle to climb out.As she does every single time, Scarlett slaps my hand away and then moans as if she is in pain.
“Jesus Christ, Scar let me help you,” I cry.
“Use that nickname again, and you’ll never be able to produce another child in your life, Cole Zimbardo.”She snaps her purse off the seat and strides past me.
Slowly though, because she’s eight months pregnant.But I can feel the attitude in every step.
Someone please mug me and leave my body lying on the sidewalk.
Unfortunately, I’m a trained killer, so it’s more likely I’ll end up in prison.So there’s that plan out the door.
“Any excuse to get your hands on my cock again,” I reply instead.At the door, I take her purse, pull out the key and open the door, ignoring her glare.
We also do this each time.
Then I stride inside and check that the house is clear.
“You know, Ranger, the likelihood of my being attacked on the doorstep instead of inside my house is far greater.”Scarlett walks inside to the kitchen, ignoring my instruction to stay outside.
“Not true.”
“I’m not one of your celebrity or politician clients.”She pours a glass of water and stares at me as she takes a sip.“Who on earth is going to wait inside my house to attack me?A client who needs their hair cut?”
I can see the smirk behind the glass.
I could kiss her or kill her right now.Both would be equally satisfying.
“Women take their hairstyles seriously; they might.”I cross my arms.“Go get ready for bed.I’ll wait.”
Scarlett drops the glass into the sink and sighs.
“Go home, Cole.”
“I’ll wait while you shower.”
I need to know that she is safe.What if she falls?Or goes into labor and can’t get to her phone?I am not having my kid born in this rental property on the living room floor.
“Maybe you should move into my house, or I should sleep on the sofa for the next few weeks,” I say, glancing around.
