Page 30 of The Ranger Gets His Girl

She smiled and dug in her bag for the tip. "This is fine. Thank you so much." He left, so she sat her bag on the bed and dug out her phone. She took a picture of the view and sent it to Taylor.

So apparently I'm rooming with Mason.

The silver walls of the bedroom were comforting to her anxious heart. They complemented the dark carpet, and a long dresser stood opposite the bed with a large flat-screen TV above it.

Three dots appeared. She practiced her yoga breathing techniques as she opened the door to the little back porch. A four or five foot wall separated the patio from the others that shared the bungalow. Unless her neighbors were in the pool, they wouldn't be able to see into her room.

Their room. Her phone buzzed.

Eek. This could be good or bad.

How could this possibly be good?

I slept with him and haven't seen or heard from him in weeks.

It's going to be awkward as hell.

OH, STOP BEING SO DRAMATIC.

You were going to have to see him eventually.

Lucy rolled her eyes and fired off one last text as her lids grew heavy.

I thought I'd have a few more months.

He doesn't know I'm here yet either.

He could get mad about it.

Lucy sat her phone on her lap and waited for the reply. She'd just close her eyes while she waited. Just for a few seconds because Taylor always texted back.

Chapter 11

Mason walked through the lobby with a headache. The woman he'd met with for coffee had been a surf instructor with a faux bright, peppy demeanor, but Simon had said she was his contact with the FBI on this mission. She'd shown him a travel binder and scooted close to flirt. Inside, however, had been details on the mission.

He'd promised his grandpa that he'd go on this fucking vacation, but the extent of his work here was already shaping up to be a full-time adventure. He carried the binder to the golf carts and asked a bellman to take him to his room.

He rubbed his temple. He was hungry and tired, as he'd gone straight from the plane to his room to town for the info drop. It might be a room service night, then early to bed. Sleep was the best way to reset his sleep schedule and shift to a different time zone. Then he'd be able to dive into the binder and begin poking around tomorrow.

Yes, room service on the patio sounded divine. The sun and ocean breeze were calling his name. Or maybe that was the seagulls overhead. The cart stopped, and he dragged himself out, tipping the driver before he drove away.

Mason opened his door and walked through the living room. It was a good sized room with plenty of space.

He set the folder on the desk and went to the closet opposite of the bathroom. He tossed his clothes onto the floor and slid on his swim trunks. The sun would feel good on his scars, he knew. What little sun remained in the day.

He turned back to the room and walked to the sliding glass door. Then he frowned and stared.

A woman was asleep on the reclining chair already. He opened the door and stepped closer to peer down.

Fuck a duck, it was Lucy!

His breath caught and his heart raced, trying to force air into his lungs. What was she doing here?

He stared at her. She was tall and willowy, her arms toned and bare in her spaghetti strapped pale pink dress. It'd been weeks since he'd seen her since he'd slept with her.

A stab of guilt ate at him over sneaking out and never calling, but they'd agreed, hadn't they? So why was she here?

Her dark brown hair was piled up in a messy bun on the top of her head. Bright pink sandals with sparkles matched her wide belt and hoop earrings. His eyes soaked her in, from the muscular calves to the tight waist that made his fingers itch to hold her to her graceful neck, perfect for biting.

---