Stranger Ranger: An Opposites Attract Romance (Park Ranger Book 2)

by Smartypants Romance

I swear he says it back, but the words are too quiet for me to hear clearly.

  “What did you say?” Trying to read his lips this time, I squint at him in the darkness.

  “Come on, let’s get you home.” He settles me inside the cab of his truck and then disappears into the night.

  I rest my head on the window, imagining Odin telling me he loves me.

  Despite my initial best efforts to see the bad in him, I know he’s a good man, a decent and kind person.

  And I love him.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Odin

  If an “I love you” is said for the first time but not remembered, does it still count?

  What if the words come not only from the woman you’re falling in love with but are also expressed on behalf of an inanimate object—are they negated?

  No and yes.

  This is how I reason away Daphne’s declaration from last night, because I sure as hell don’t love moonshine back. I’m still pissed at my cousins. Bunch of idiot noggin-knockers with their apple pie moonshine.

  By the time I got back to my truck last night, she was sound asleep. Rousing her enough to buckle her seatbelt, I tucked the wool coat around her like a blanket.

  I didn’t want to take her to the ranger cabins in case she got sick in the night, so I brought her home with me, carried her inside and switched out her dress for my T-shirt before tucking her under the covers.

  At first light, I’m out of bed and dressed, quietly sneaking out of the room so I don’t disturb her. I have a pint jar of Ida’s cure-all in the fridge for when Daphne wakes up. I suspect she’s going to have one mean hangover.

  Keeping to my morning routine, I let Roman out and check on Patsy while he does his business. She comes out of her house to greet me, eats her breakfast, and then the three of us wander around the yard and gardens while I drink my first cup of coffee of the day.

  Behind the greenhouse is my new project. I’ve taken grafts from the hidden trees and given some to Lena for preservation. Eventually the old orchard will stop producing and I don’t want to lose those varieties. It will be a couple of years before any of these saplings produce fruit, but I’m here for the long haul.

  Coffee finished, I whistle for the animals and they follow me back to the house. Roman gets his breakfast while Patsy claims her bed on the porch for a post-meal nap. After refilling my cup, I join her, sitting in my favorite chair.

  For countless mornings, we’ve followed this same routine. Like the post office, we don’t let snow, sleet, or rain deter us.

  Today is different. Daphne’s presence changes everything. I listen for sounds of her stirring, curious to know how she slept and if she has a headache. Images of her in my bed, wearing only my T-shirt leave me with a different kind of wanting.

  Time has a funny way of contracting and expanding. August seems like years ago, and the last month has also seemed to last only a few days. When it comes to Daphne, I either feel like I’ve known her forever or like our meeting at the farmers’ market was yesterday.

  Do I believe in love at first sight? No.

  Do I believe two people are fated to be together? No.

  However, I know it is possible to wake up one morning and know with absolute certainty you’re in love with someone.

  Impatient for her to wake up so I can tell her that, I make my way to the bedroom and discover the bed empty.

  “Daphne?” I call out, a weird dread pooling in my chest as I think she might’ve left while I was in the orchard. Logically I know it isn’t possible. I would’ve seen or heard a car coming up the road, and Roman would’ve reacted, barking to alert me to the invasion.

  Her dress still lies on the chair where I put it last night—she couldn’t have gotten far in an old T-shirt.

  “Bathroom,” she responds from down the hall.

  Lifting my gaze to the ceiling, I roll my eyes at my worry.

  While I stand in the middle of my bedroom, she dashes past me and leaps into the bed, pulling the thick quilt and blankets up to her chin.

  “Brr,” she mumbles into the covers. “Why is winter a thing?”

  I refrain from pointing out we’re in the middle of fall. Instead I ask, “How are you feeling?”

  She shifts the sheets to expose her mouth. “Rough around the edges, but I think I’ll live.”

  “Coffee?”

  She frowns. “I’m not sure.”

  “Food?”

  “Maybe?”

  I sit on the side of the mattress and hand her the glass of water from the little table next to her side of the bed.

  I let that thought marinate for a moment and decide I like the idea of her claiming the other half of my bed.

  “You’re doing the thing again.” She returns the half-full glass back to me.

  “What’s that?”

  “Being kind and taking care of me.”

  I shrug off her accusation. “I’m basically treating you like a houseplant by watering you.”

  “Odin.”

  “Yes?”

  “The end of the evening is a little blurry. Too many spins plus too much moonshine isn’t a good combination.”

  My lips press together as I try to contain my amusement at her silly ramblings.

  “You have a terrible poker face.” She flips the quilt over her head, muffling her words. “What did I do?”

  “Nothing to feel guilt or shame over.”

  The top of her head and then her eyes reappear. “Your answer indicates something was said, or done. I didn’t get sick did I?

  “No.”

  “I woke up in your shirt.”

  “I put you in it last night. Your dress was too pretty to sleep in.”

  “You liked my dress?” Her brow furrows.

  “Sure. You were the most beautiful woman at the party, though I prefer you as you are now … in my bed and mostly naked.” In the soft morning light, she glows. No filter needed.

  “You could be naked in it with me.” She pats the pillow next to her head.

  “I wanted to let you sleep off the moonshine.”

  Her warm brown eyes widen before she ducks beneath the covers again.

  “Darlin’?” I peel back the layers of fabric until I expose her face.

  “I remember being outside the barn with you. We were dancing and singing. No, I was. You were dipping me.” She gazes out the window. “I may have said something I shouldn’t have.”

  “Look at me.” I wait for her to meet my eyes before I continue. “I promise you didn’t.”

  The truth stretches between us, connecting us to our individual memories of last night, both of us holding our breath, waiting for either confirmation or denial.

  Searching her face for doubt I don’t find, I bring her wrist to my mouth and press my lips against her pulse. I’m stalling, an unfamiliar nervousness quickening my heart rate. Expressing my emotions and sharing my feelings with another human is new for me. With a steadying breath, I decide I’m willing to brave the unknown with her.

  Still holding her wrist, I sit up before speaking. “The words you said last night were something I’ve been thinking about for a while now. I worried it was too soon to say I love you, but I do. I’m falling in love with you, Daphne.”

  Her inhalation catches in her throat and the rims of her eyes fill with tears. “You love me?”

  “I love you.”

  She hasn’t repeated her declaration. I’m on the edge of panic and ready to backpedal. Maybe she didn’t mean it. Perhaps it was simply drunken babbling signifying nothing more than random thoughts.

  “I love you, Odin.”

  Relief carries me away on a current of happiness. Scooping her into my arms, I lavish kisses on her mouth and neck. The oversized shirt is discarded along with my clothes as we strip each other bare. Our lovemaking is frenzied, tangled layers of love and lust. I make sure she orgasms before me, holding back until her body achieves its release. Right before I come, I kiss her, repeating “I love you�
� between each breath until my mind goes blank with pleasure.

  As we lie sprawled across my bed, Daphne’s head on my chest, our breaths slowly returning to normal, I stare at the ceiling and wonder how I got so lucky.

  A shower follows before we crawl back into bed to eat the simple breakfast I prepared.

  Sipping a cup of coffee, I ask about her plans for the day and week.

  “Even though I don’t go to church anymore, I like to take Sundays off to do nothing whenever I can. During the season, I’m always working. What about you?”

  “The only thing I want to do is be here with you.” I kiss her shoulder.

  She bites into a piece of toast. “Sounds like heaven.”

  Daphne’s phone pings repeatedly with new texts.

  “Do you want to check your messages?”

  “No.” She casts a dirty look at the device on the table a few feet away.

  Two more notifications quickly follow.

  “Could be a work emergency.” I lean over her to reach for the phone and hand it to her.

  “Even more reason to ignore it.” Despite the statement, she reluctantly accepts it, and her eyes widen as she reads the texts. “I have to get back to the park.”

  “Is everything okay?” I’ve never heard this tone in her voice. Fear coils itself around my spine.

  “I’m not sure. Can you give me a ride?” She’s on the move, locating her bra on the floor and then pulling her dress over her head.

  “Of course. Let me put Patsy in her pen and I’ll meet you outside.”

  We don’t say much on the drive over to Cades Cove. She’s staring out the window, lost in thought, and I don’t want to pry. If she wants to tell me, she will. Occasionally, she’ll tap out a message on her phone.

  “Where am I going?” I ask once we’re on the loop road.

  “Visitor center.”

  When we arrive, I scan the area for signs of an emergency. There’s no smoke in the air. I don’t see a fire engine or ambulance, no panic in the eyes of the people milling around. Appears everything is fine.

  “Am I dropping you off, or should I stay?” I pull into a turnout and pause.

  “Stay. Please.” She grips my hand. “I love you, remember that. Nothing changes how I feel.

  “Okay.” More confused than ever, I park the truck. “I love you too.”

  She gives me a soft kiss but doesn’t allow me to deepen it before she’s opening her door and jumping out of the cab.

  I exit a few seconds behind her.

  Daphne runs across the parking area and into the arms of a guy dressed in an expensive black coat and boots straight from the streets of Manhattan.He stands out like lipstick on a pig—not that I’d ever apply makeup to Patsy. Simply put, I’d notice him even if he weren’t hugging Daphne.

  When he sets her down, she grins and simultaneously swipes away tears from her cheeks. It’s impossible to ignore the happiness surrounding them like a bubble, the love in his eyes as he gazes at her apparent even from ten feet away where I’m observing their tender moment like a creeper.

  Jealousy constricts my chest like a jacket that’s too small. My lungs can’t fully expand to inhale.

  Whoever this man is, I don’t like him. Moreover, I don’t like how Daphne beams at him like he’s the sun, the moon, and the best birthday cake wish come true.

  Unhappy with my current state and unwilling to stand around as an outsider to this love-fest, I turn on my heel to return to the truck.

  “Odin?” Daphne’s voice halts my steps. “Come meet Isaac.”

  Her friend. Of course. Relief eases the bindings around my lungs.

  “Hi. Odin Hill.” My voice is friendly as I extend my hand to shake his.

  “Nice to meet you. You look familiar.” He gives me a warm smile. “Isaac Baum.”

  If he’s lived in New York long enough, he may have dined in one of my restaurants. Wouldn’t that make for a small world?

  “Isaac surprised me.” Daphne’s fingers twist into her hair—her nervous tell.

  “Baum? Are you related? I thought you said you were friends.”

  The two of them both freeze like they’ve encountered a hostile animal in the woods.

  He gawks at her, which she ignores by keeping her focus on me.

  “Daphne?” I try to get her attention by reaching for her hand. “You didn’t mention you have a brother.”

  “We aren’t siblings—or cousins. We aren’t related by blood.” The words tumble from her mouth.

  I force a chuckle, like I’m in on the joke even though I have no idea what’s going on. “Funny coincidence you have the same last name.”

  Isaac gives her a sharp look. “Daphne. You didn’t tell him?”

  “Tell me what?” If I had them, my hackles would be up.

  He frowns at me, pity in his eyes. “Technically, Daphne is my wife.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Daphne

  The happiness I feel upon seeing Isaac fades as soon as he tells Odin we’re married.

  I want to cry and smack Isaac.

  “On paper only,” I clarify. “We haven’t seen each other in almost a year.”

  Odin’s expression darkens. “Married? Maybe you should’ve mentioned you have a husband.”

  I hate the hurt in his eyes and knowing I caused it.

  Isaac puts his hand on my shoulder. “It’s a marriage of convenience, in name only.”

  I shake off his touch and try to catch Odin’s attention.

  “Serious enough for you to take his name.” He won’t look at me. “Whatever game this is, I don’t want any part of it.”

  “Odin, stop. Please listen to us.” I grab his elbow, thinking that will prevent him from leaving.

  “I’m sorry we sprung this on you.” Isaac gives him a sympathetic smile. “I needed to get in touch with Daphne.”

  “You flew all the way down here because I didn’t return your texts for a few days?”

  “Did you read them?” Isaac counters.

  “I meant to respond. I’ve been busy.” My gaze cuts to Odin, who has lightning-bolt-throwing eyes.

  Isaac sighs. “I had business in Atlanta so I decided to rent a car and drive up here with the papers. What a beautiful area, by the way. I swear I drove through the part of Georgia where Deliverance was set, and I was expecting toothless hillbillies with banjos.”

  Odin bristles. I want to kick Isaac.

  “Well, on that note, I’ll leave the two of you to catch up. I need to get back to the holler and get the possums skinned for supper,” Odin drawls in a thick Appalachian accent.

  I’m too stunned to follow him as he stomps away.

  “Whoa. Your boyfriend is pissed. He’s also super hot. Do you really eat possum down here? What does it taste like? Everything exotic always ends up tasting like chicken. Have you ever noticed that?” He laughs like this is all hysterical.

  “Isaac, if you don’t shut up, I’ll never speak to you again.”

  “What? The hillbilly thing was clearly a joke. He’s mad because I brought up Deliverance, right? He wasn’t serious.”

  Closing my eyes, I count my inhalations and exhalations. Once I’m certain I won’t tackle him to the ground and kick his ass like I did when we were seven, I turn my attention to him.

  “Give me the papers and I’ll sign them. You have a long drive back to Atlanta tonight.”

  “They’re in the car.” He sounds wary and he should be. “My flight isn’t until tomorrow afternoon, so I thought you could show me around and we could go to dinner if there’s anywhere decent around here to eat.”

  I’m already striding over to the nondescript black sedan. He jogs to keep up.

  “I’m sorry if my jokes insulted your friend. Stereotypes exist because they’re based on the truth.”

  “Don’t say sorry to me. You should’ve apologized to Odin.”

  “Who names their kid Odin?” His brow furrows. “What’s his last name again?”

 
; “Hill.”

  “Wait a Hotlanta second—that was Odin Hill? The Michelin-starred chef? No way.” His expression crumbles. “And I made a hillbilly joke. I am a huge asshole.”

  I tuck my chin and gaze up at him. “Yep.”

  He places both hands on the top of his head and bends at the waist. “I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

  “Not if I can help it.” I’m not ready to let him off the hook.

  He groans, loudly. “How am I ever going to look him in the eye?”

  “As long as you apologize, I don’t think he’s the kind to hold a grudge.”

  Isaac stands up, his expression quickly morphing from despair to hope. “Do you think he’d invite us over for dinner? Has he cooked for you? Was it incredible? I can’t believe you’re dating a famous chef. You don’t like eighty percent of food.”

  “I love you, but you’ve lost your mind. I’m still mad at you.” I glower at him. “He’s not a chef anymore. He does live in a holler and runs a small farm.”

  “I’d read somewhere he walked away after Tony Beard died. I figured he was laying low until he opened up a new restaurant.”

  “I don’t think that’s going to happen. Seems pretty content with his life.”

  Isaac’s hazel eyes meet mine. “Please tell him I’m sorry. Beg for his forgiveness. Offer him sexual favors.”

  I scoff. “If anyone needs his forgiveness, it will be me. Did you have to tell him we’re married?”

  He hands me the papers and a pen. “Sign these and I won’t be your husband anymore.”

  I don’t expect the stab of loss to be so sharp. My hand hovers over the paper, holding the pen. “It’s really over, isn’t it? The end of our beginning.”

  “I owe you my life, Daphne. I don’t know what would’ve happened to me if we didn’t run away.”

  Real tears sting my eyes. “Same.”

  He envelops me in a hug for the millionth time in our years of friendship. “I’ll always love you.”

  I squeeze him as tight as I can. “Me too. I love you right back. Give me some time to smooth things over with Odin and then come visit again. I’ve missed you.”