Page 3 of The Ranger Gets His Girl

The girl let go of his arm and hugged Helen. "It was beautiful. I'm so happy for you, Nana. Congratulations."

Nana? Oh. Oh. Of course, she was Helen's granddaughter. He'd seen pictures in Helen's house when he'd gone for dinner a few weeks ago. They didn't do her justice at all.

In person, she was a vision. A vision that he couldn't afford to get involved with. He shook his grandpa's hand and slapped him on the back.

"Congrats, Pops."

Ray just nodded, a big grin on his face as he turned back to his bride. The girl stayed beside Helen, so he fell into line beside her. She skittered around him like a little bird, careful not to venture too far from mama bird. Or in this case, grandma bird.

The receiving line would funnel the crowd into the fellowship hall. The rest of the bridesmaids and groomsmen joined them, and the entire town stopped by to shake hands on their way to the reception.

The entire time they were taking pictures, he tried to ignore her. But the nature of being Best Man meant he stood beside her most of the time. She smelled like oranges, and more than once, he breathed deeply just to capture it.

When they finally approached the main table at the reception, he pulled out her chair. He half expected her to dance and flit away from him, but she sat. She barely glanced at him through her long lashes, but he took another breath and tried to distance himself.

He sat beside her as the food was served. Avoiding eye contact during the surrounding conversations made it awkward.

He turned to her and held out his hand as a server placed their plates on the table. "I'm Mason, Ray's grandson. You're Helen's granddaughter?"

She wiped her hands on her dress and pasted an overly bright smile on her face. Finally she looked him in the eye. "Yes, I'm Lucy. It's nice to finally meet you."

"You too," he said, enveloping her long fingers in his big hand. He felt like a bear pawing at an orange. She was a delicious delicacy, and he was a big oaf.

"I guess we're family now, huh?" he asked, cutting into his chicken. She fiddled with her fork and squirmed on the chair, then nodded.

"I guess so. Does that mean you'll be at Christmas this year?"

He nodded. "I assume so, yes. Any requests for a Christmas present?"

She glanced at him through her lashes then bit into her chicken and shook her head as she chewed.

"Oh come on. You have to have something you want. Every girl I know has a list a mile long."

She shrugged. "Sure I have a list. But I don't even know you, and if you get me something, I'll have to get you something. How do you and Ray normally do Christmas?"

He took a drink before answering. "We normally go to dinner either before or after Christmas. I'm usually working, so I'm not guaranteed holidays."

She frowned. "What do you do?"

"I'm a Texas Ranger." He frowned, not sure how much longer that statement would be true. "What about you?"

She took another bite, and he waited for her to chew. "I'll be graduating college in a few weeks, but I work at a nail salon in Denton and teach yoga a few times a week."

"Ah, that makes sense. I thought you were the athletic type," he said.

She frowned and looked at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugged, "You've got muscle definition. Not a lot of women do, that's all."

"What are you trying to say? That I'm not feminine enough?"

He frowned and turned his head to face her. "What? No, not at all."

"Uh huh, sure." She stabbed her chicken with the knife and cut it so hard the knife screeched on the plate.

He winced. This was why he needed to stay away from women and relationships. He could never say the right thing, and it always ended in disaster. He shifted on the chair and rubbed his back, trying to ease the constant pain that radiated down his leg.

"I'm sorry, but that's not what I meant. How'd you get the idea that you're not feminine enough? You've got curves in all the right places, trust me."

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