Page 7 of The Ranger Gets His Girl

"I don't know what to say. I think I need to talk to Katie first."

"And maybe Holly, the yoga studio's owner. I bet she would love another teacher, what with her twins and everything," Helen said, her face brightening with a grin.

Lucy nodded as the server came to cash out their meal. Ray insisted on treating them in honor of her graduation.

Thankfully, the graduation ceremony was indoors because there was a frigid chill to the wind that afternoon. When all was said and done, Lucy agreed to their Christmas plans for the following weekend.

Then Taylor dragged her out for a late night post-graduation party on campus. They arrived at the house on the seedier side of town and tipped their driver.

"Two drinks, Tay. That's it. It's too cold to be out all night," Lucy said, flipping the hood of her jacket up.

"Oh come on. Don't be a spoilsport. This is your last hurrah, Luce. Live a little before you grow up and adult for real." Taylor practically skipped up the porch steps and opened the door.

Loud music assailed them but several people turned to see who was here.

"Hooray! Taylor's here," two guys said, clinking their beers together with a grin. Taylor threw her jacket off, revealing a too short skirt and a sweater with a v-neck cut down almost to her belly button.

"That's right, bitches. I have arrived," she waltzed into the crowd with a laugh, leaving Lucy to pick up her coat and shut the door. She looked around while she laid both jackets on a dining table immediately to the left of the door.

To the right was a large living room with two couches and a loveseat. A few couples were already making out where they sat. Behind one couch in the corner was a DJ with some complicated speaker system.

Lucy snorted to see the DJ wearing sunglasses inside. At night.

She'd lost count of how many parties Taylor had dragged her to over the past six years. Inevitably, she found herself in the kitchen pouring drinks. It was easier to be the drink girl and take care of everyone else than actually interact with people.

She didn't mind people. It was good book research to come to places like this and observe the human condition. It was fascinating to see. Sometimes she would make bets with herself on which person would slap someone first.

The longer she'd been in college with Taylor, the better she'd gotten at her game. She smiled and handed over a drink to a girl who was already swaying. Another guy walked up for a drink.

She set the vodka down and glanced up, a smile on her face. "What can I—oh. Oh no."

Her smile froze on her face. It was Mason, but not the Mason she'd met a few weeks ago. Instead of a neatly tailored suit, he now wore hipster jeans, pristine black shoes, and a black silky polo golf shirt. Her heart skipped a beat as he crossed his arms. Holy hell, those biceps were going to be the death of her.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

His brow lifted in challenge. "Oh no indeed. What do we have here? Does your grandma know you're at a place like this?"

She frowned and shook her head. "No, does your grandpa?"

There was a shout behind them, then someone started yelling, "Dance, girl, dance!"

Mason looked back at the crowd and frowned.

Lucy narrowed her eyes. "You've dyed your hair. Trying to reclaim your youth, old man?"

Disappointment shot through her like an arrow. She'd thought he was older, a real adult. Real adults didn't go to frat parties looking for young college kids to hook up with. She'd misjudged him.

She thought she'd gotten better at identifying dirt bags, but apparently not.

His head spun to face her at her words, and his eyes narrowed. Some guy bumped into him and grabbed the tequila bottle. "Hey, watch it," the guy slurred as he poured the drink mostly into his solo cup.

Mason rolled his eyes and stepped around the island toward Lucy. She backed up, but he neatly boxed her into the corner with one hand on either side of the counter. He leaned in, the manly scent of him overwhelming her with his nearness. Her hands fluttered to his biceps. She was ready to push him away but was conflicted. Her body said bring him closer, but her head said run.

Their bodies were close, and she could smell his aftershave. Something musky, woodsy. It made her lean in to smell more.

"Don't move, little bird. Yes, I dyed my hair. Yes, I'm thirty-five and at a frat party. But it's not what you think. I'm here in a professional capacity, and I need you to not blow my cover, got it?"

She sucked in a breath, making her chest graze his.

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