Up In Flames (Ranger Security Book 3)

by Rhonda Russell

  He’d married someone like her? Charlie thought, amazed. She’d pegged him for a king-of-his-castle kind of guy with a wife who deferred to him and made him feel even smarter than he already was.

  Hmm. It looked as though she could be wrong, as well.

  “I was wrong not to hire you,” Payne said. “You are a first-class agent who would make a fine addition to any team. I’d like you on mine.”

  Charlie blinked, surprised. He couldn’t have shocked her any more if he’d been trying. Honestly, since Jay had been hurt she hadn’t given a thought to any job...even the dream one she’d been so certain she wanted.

  “You don’t have to answer now,” he said. “Just think about it.”

  She nodded, unsure of what to say. He hesitated, seemed on the verge of saying more, then evidently thought better of it and turned to go.

  “You said you’d made two mistakes,” Charlie reminded him. “What was the other one?”

  He grinned. “Not warning Jay about you,” he said. “Not that it would have done any good, but...” He shrugged a goodbye and then ducked out the door.

  Done any good? Charlie thought. What did he mean by that? Exhausted, she laid her head against the back of Jay’s hand and drifted off to sleep once more.

  After all, she was going to need her strength to kill him when he woke up.

  * * *

  Jay became aware of his surroundings a degree at a time. He blinked, his eyes gritty and dry, but didn’t have any luck bringing the world into focus. He could hear a machine dinging next to him, felt something over his mouth and noted the air tasted funny.

  Probably because his mouth was parched, he decided, more thirsty than he’d ever been in his life. A hand held his—soft and small—and the scent of green apples slid into his nostrils.

  Charlie! Panic punched him in the gut and he sat bolt upright, tearing the thing off his face, swinging his feet over the side of the bed.

  “Jay!” she said, her voice strained but recognizable. She gently pushed him back down and shushed him. “It’s okay,” she soothed. “You’re going to be all right.” Her voice broke at the end and she buried her face in his neck, put her arms around him and held him close.

  The fire, Charlie... He remembered getting her out, remembered being afraid to look at her.

  “Charlie,” he rasped. “You...okay?”

  “Shush,” she said. “Don’t try to talk. Your throat is burned. And yes, I’m o-okay.”

  She didn’t sound okay—she sounded like she was crying.

  He rubbed his eyes, making another attempt to see. He blinked and the room slowly appeared, fuzzy at first, but clearer by the second.

  He drew back to look at her. Her eyes were puffy and red, the lashes clumped together as though she’d been crying a lot. There was a bruise on her cheek, a scratch on her forehead, but otherwise she appeared perfect.

  The relieved breath that eased out of his lungs hurt more than he expected, but it was worth it. He smiled down at her, slid a finger along her cheek. “Kill... Andrew for...hurting you,” he rasped.

  She chuckled softly and shook her head. “I’m going to kill you for going into that damned library,” she said. “There were firemen there! In special little suits designed to keep them from burning to death! You should have let them handle it, damn you.” Her face crumpled into a sob. “You shouldn’t have risked it, not after...not after Baghdad.”

  He should have known that she’d find out the truth one way or another and was too relieved that she was okay to consider being angry. He’d been so frightened, so terrified that something had happened to her. That she’d been hurt.

  It had put everything else into perspective.

  At some point over the last few days, Charlie Martin had become his gravity, the thing that tied him to this world, and though he didn’t understand it—wasn’t even sure he altogether liked it, for that matter—he couldn’t deny it.

  How bizarre that it had taken a girl who could cut him off at the knees to be what ultimately grounded him.

  He drew her to him, savored the feel of her nestled in his arms. “It’s...all right,” he said. “I...had to save...you. I.. .couldn’t bear it.. .if...”

  She pulled back and looked up at him. “I would have done the same thing for you,” she said. “And then you’d be the one lecturing me for reckless behavior.” Her gaze softened. “But that’s what heroes do, isn’t it? And you’re mine.”

  “I’m...going to...quit my job,” he rasped.

  Her eyes widened.

  “What? Why?”

  “Because I can’t...work for men...who underestimate you.” And he couldn’t. She was brilliant. She was brave. She was strong. She was.. .wonderful. Everything he’d never known he wanted. And more.

  Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears and she trailed her fingers lovingly over his face. “Well, you can’t quit,” she said. “I’ve told them that we’re going to share your apartment instead of me getting my own in the building when I come to work for them.” She bit her lip. “I figure we’ll have more opportunity to make each other scream if we’re cohabitating.” She peeked at him from beneath lowered lashes. “Does that work for you?”

  “That depends. Are you willing...to make...an honest man...of me?”

  She beamed at him, her heart in her eyes. “I’ll wheel you down to the hospital chapel right now if that’s what you want.”

  Jay laughed, though it hurt, and shook his head. Oh, no. He wanted the whole shebang. “White dress. Flowers. Parents. Friends. Honeymoon.” He squeezed her hand, swallowed so that he could say it without pausing. “I love you, Charlie. When I thought...” He shook his head and shrugged helplessly and knew he wouldn’t have been able to finish the sentence even if his throat hadn’t been so damned raw.

  A tear spilled down her cheek. “I love you, too, Jay. So much that it scares me,” she admitted, as though it was a mortifying weakness.

  “Then we can be...terrified together. And that’s damned sure...better than...apart.”

  “I can’t argue with that,” she said. Her hazel eyes glimmered with humor and she tucked her chin against her chest as though imparting a conspiratorial secret “And we both know I would if I could.”

  “True enough.” He laughed silently and shook his head.

  He was marrying this wonderful creature, Jay thought with equal parts joy and awe. She was going to be his.

  His.

  All because of Truffles the Yorkie.

  Epilogue

  One month later...

  “Look at them,” Aggie whispered, nodding her head in Jay and Charlie’s direction. “He can’t take his eyes off her.”

  Smokey knew the feeling. “She makes a very fine bride.”

  And it was true. Charlie’s dark hair had been swept up in an arrangement of soft curls and the dress she was wearing had belonged to her mother. For reasons that had been kept private, she’d broken with tradition and had her grandfather and brother give her away. Her father had missed the wedding, but had arrived later, with a bit of feet shuffling and a shamed face, at the reception. He’d spoken to the bride and groom and, though Smokey had been afraid there for a moment that Jay was going to be throwing another punch that might end with him incarcerated again, ultimately it had ended fine.

  Everything had, really.

  Truffles had been returned safe and sound, Josie had taken Jasmine’s place and gone to work for Aggie—and was currently enrolled at the local community college on “scholarship.” Burt—who’d had no clue that everything that had happened was as a direct result of Jasmine feeling he’d been slighted—was manning his station at the front gate, still searching the skies for UFOs, of course, and Taffy and Andrew Betterworth were in jail, unable to make bond. Jay and Charlie had survived the fire and were now married, and Aggie had done Smokey himself the greatest kindness by firing him so that he could court her properly without feeling weird about it.

  Which was just as well, because he was abou
t to propose to her.

  He was as nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.

  “Aggie, would you walk with me?”

  She smiled up at him and threaded her fingers through his. “Of course.”

  “Have you ever been to Cade’s Cove?” he asked.

  Her eyes lit with warmth and nodded. “Once,” she said. “Many years ago.”

  “It’s my favorite part of the Smokey Mountains,” he said. “It’s peaceful, serene, and the wildlife thrives there, more so than in any other part of the park.” They strolled into the church parlor and he led her over to a little Queen Anne sofa. “Really?” she said. “I didn’t know that. This is a lovely room,” she remarked, looking around. “How did you know this was here?”

  “I saw it earlier,” he told her. Only because he’d gone looking for it. He’d wanted a quiet place to make his plea. “Anyway, there’s a white clapboard church over there that’s still in service today.”

  “I had no idea.”

  He slid down onto one knee in front of her and pulled the ring from his pocket. “How would you feel about marrying me there?”

  Aggie’s mouth rounded in a silent O and she looked from him to the ring then back again. “Y-you want to marry me?” she repeated.

  He grinned up at her, took her hand and slipped the diamond over her left knuckle and into place. "Fervently.”

  Aggie placed both hands on his face and drew him to her for a kiss. She smiled against his lips. “If I’d known the way to get you to propose was to fire you, I’d have done it a long time ago.”

  “It’s a shame I don’t know how to be insubordinate,” he teased.

  “That’s because you’re a good man, Smokey Burkhart, and it’ll be an honor to be your wife.”

  And it would be an honor to be her husband.

  Sneak Peek

  The next Ranger Security novel, Going Down Hard.

  Keep reading for your preview…

  EXCERPT

  The only penis Will Forrester was accustomed to protecting was his own.

  Will felt a disbelieving smile slide over his lips as he stared down at the picture in his hand. He could feel three sets of eyes—those of former Rangers Jamie Flanagan, Brian Payne and Guy McCann—all trained on him expectantly, waiting for his reaction. Both Jamie and Payne were poker-faced, but Guy’s mouth was twitching with the effort not to laugh.

  Struggling with that impulse himself, Will pulled in a deep breath and then looked up at the three gentleman of Ranger Security. Reminding himself that this was a new job—his first as a civilian after more than a decade at Uncle Sam’s beck and call—he tried to arrange his face into something that would look professional rather than shocked and mildly revolted.

  When Colonel Garrett had assured him of placement with Ranger Security, Will had imagined he’d

  be guarding glamorous socialites and the odd dignitary. Not funny little stone statues with enormous penises.

  The mental adjustment took effort and he’d had enough to adjust to of late. Abrupt career change, one he’d never anticipated. Having his head shrunk repeatedly over the incident which had precipitated his quick departure from the military.

  And he was still having damned nightmares.

  Will had always been a roll-with-the-punches kind of guy, had prided himself on his ability to quickly assess and regroup, to do his job with competent enthusiasm and a level of detachment necessary to complete his mission. Dubbed “Renegade” by his fellow soldiers because of his unique ability to get the right outcome through so-called “wrong” procedures, Will was never truly concerned with the process so long as the end result was in his favor. War wasn’t a game and loss was a natural byproduct of conflict. But no amount of heritage—he’d been a third-generation Ranger—training or detachment had prepared him for what had happened outside Mosul.

  Gut-wrenching cries from mothers, wails of terror and despair from children. Broken little bodies...

  It was over. Finished. Done.

  Much to the displeasure of his father, who in no way supported or understood why he’d had to get out. “Your weakness is disgraceful. Man up, son. That’s Crawford blood in your veins. ” Will smothered a bitter snort.

  As if he’d ever forget.

  “What is this, exactly?” he asked, pleased that his

  voice sounded level. “And, more importantly, why do I need to protect it?”

  Payne was the one to answer. “It’s a statue of a South American fertility god. It’s been on display at the Smithsonian along with various other objects of the same nature. The entire exhibit will be moving to Dallas. That’s where Ranger Security—and you, specifically—come into play. You’ll fly into D.C., confer with the exhibit liaison and you, the liaison and Dick here—he nodded at the picture, indicating the statue—will drive back to Dallas. For appearance’s sake, a decoy will be moving with the exhibit.”

  Drive? But wouldn’t it be more expedient to fly? “Under ordinary circumstances, flying would be a better alternative,” Payne remarked, as though reading his mind. “But this particular statue has been the target of three burglary attempts alone since it’s been in D.C.”

  Will glanced down at the picture once more and gave it a dubious look. Carved out of some porous, graying stone, it was roughly a foot tall. The little man’s face was crude and devoid of expression. His hands were wrapped around the root of his enormous penis, which stood away from his body in a proud, anatomically correct position. But that’s where the authenticity stopped. The penis itself was taller than the statue’s head. In fact, it was more penis than man. Will frowned.

  Why in the hell would anyone want to steal this thing? Will wondered, genuinely puzzled. It was hideous and, for reasons he couldn’t readily identify, just looking at it made him strangely uncomfortable. Though he’d always been quite pleased with his own equipment, this little relic could easily give a guy an inferiority complex.

  Guy snorted and took a swallow of his energy drink. He aimed the remote control at the large flat-panel television anchored to the wall. “Hard to believe anyone would want it, isn’t it?”

  “Truthfully, yes.” Will looked up, certain there had to be more to this story than he was getting. “What’s the draw? What’s so special about it?”

  Guy chuckled and that wicked laugh left Will feeling distinctly uneasy. Jamie winced and looked away. Will’s gaze shifted to Payne, who seemed more likely to supply an answer.

  Payne released a small breath and, for the first time, a shadow of a smile hovered around his lips. “The draw is...it seems to work.”

  Will blinked, certain he’d misunderstood. “Come again?”

  “More than seventy percent of the women who have worked directly with Dick—and roughly half of those who have merely been in close proximity to him—have become pregnant,” Jamie clarified. “Those are pretty damned convincing odds.”

  “If you believe the hype,” Guy said, his lips twisting into a doubtful smile.

  Payne handed Will another file, this one filled with newspaper clippings and printed articles from the Internet. “The press has had a field day with it. As a result, thousands of hopeful couples have flocked to the display. And there was interest enough beforehand,” he added grimly.

  Will’s antennae twitched. “Interest? From whom?”

  “Private collectors,” Payne said. “One, in particular. Rodrigo Ramirez. According to our research, Ramirez claims that the statue was mistakenly donated to the Smithsonian by his great-grandfather. Ernesto Ramirez was a renowned archeologist. Rodrigo is a glorified treasure hunter, whose fortune is of questionable origin. He’s as unscrupulous as they come. And he’s dangerous. The people who stand in his way commonly end up sporting a toe tag.”

  Nothing like a little danger to get the blood flowing, Will thought, as he studied a picture of the man in question. Designer suit, Italian shoes, porcelain veneers. The trappings were what one would expect from a wealthy businessman, but there was
a cruelness around his eyes that ruined the polished effect. He could see where this man could be dangerous.

  “What’s kept him out of prison?” Will asked.

  “Money mostly,” Jamie said. “The charges never stick, witnesses go missing. The usual stuff.”

  Will grimaced. “Sounds like a charming guy.” He looked up. “So he’s the primary reason Ranger Security has been hired?”

  “Yes,” Payne said. “Typically the museums coordinate their own security, but given the interest and threat level directed at Dick, they decided that outsourcing the security detail on him would be the best bet.”

  Will silently agreed.

  “Ramirez and the contingent of reporters following along with the so called ‘fertility phenomena’ won’t be expecting a change in protocol, which will give you an advantage,” Jamie added.

  Fertility phenomena, Will thought. He smothered a snort. Did these people genuinely believe that this little statue—nothing more than rock—had the power to make them conceive? Were they that desperate? Evidently so, he thought, baffled.

  Having had a sister who struggled with fertility issues, Will had an on-the-fringes look at how devastating the inability to conceive a child could be. His sister and her husband had struggled through two years of marital, financial and emotional strain before she’d finally gotten pregnant with Eli, his eighteen-month-old nephew. Would Roxanne have believed this? Will wondered. Would she have made the pilgrimage to see Dick if there was even a remote possibility that it might work? He sighed, knowing the answer.

  Without a doubt, yes.

  “Once the statue is safely in Dallas, your job is complete,” Payne told him. “We don’t care what route you take or how you get there, so long as the artifact and the liaison arrive safely.”

  Will nodded, knowing his dismissal was imminent. He’d been briefed on his salary—he was still reeling from the income and benefits package, though his friend Will, also of Ranger Security, had warned him, of course—and had been given the keys to his new apartment, which was right here in the building. The convenience would be a plus.