Ranger Protector

by Angi Morgan

  “I’ll grab the food,” he shot over his shoulder.

  There might be a million and one questions about who was after her and why. But one thing was abundantly clear. Ranger Jack MacKinnon was an honest man and dangerously attractive. She already respected him and trusted his judgment.

  Getting involved would be easy. So how distracting would it be trying not to?

  Chapter Nine

  Megan was wrapped in a blanket when he returned to the porch. She stood at the thermostat, probably cranking up the heat, the wolf-patterned throw draped around her shoulders.

  He had their chicken-fried-steak bag in one hand and some small logs under his arm. He stayed where he was, just watching.

  Remembering.

  Finding the house after two years had been easier than he thought. He’d turned his phone off a second time after a quick look at the map. He thought he’d need the GPS when he got closer. But even finding the overgrown driveway had been easy.

  Stopping the memories...he tried, but it didn’t work. Jack could already smell the cedar burning in the fireplace. Toni loved fires. They’d had one every night they’d been here. A romantic dinner in Wimberley and he’d popped the question under the stars with a bottle of wine.

  Thank God there had been two bedrooms after she’d said no.

  Never ask a question you don’t know the answer to. Yeah, that was the advice his dad had given him afterward.

  Too bad he couldn’t have mentioned that before he’d asked. She’d told him she loved him; that wasn’t the problem. Being in law enforcement—on the street or behind a desk—it didn’t matter. She’d taken off to Europe soon after that, and he hadn’t seen her since.

  Life moved on, but luckily her parents still kept a spare key in the birdhouse. And double luck that they weren’t here for the weekend.

  Being at the house was a wake-up call of why he didn’t want to get involved. Dammit! Why was the thought of getting involved with Megan even entering his mind? Until he heard differently from Wade, he had to go with the state’s version of events. That meant he would take her to headquarters on Monday morning.

  It didn’t matter what Wade wanted any longer. Or Megan.

  Austin was about two hours from here. Faster when you needed to put the woman who told you she just wanted to be friends on a plane back to Dallas.

  He stomped, knocking the dirt and leaves off his boots, alerting Megan that he was coming inside. He didn’t want to startle her—just in case she had a weapon hidden under the wolf.

  “You ready for dinner?” he asked, closing the door behind him.

  He dropped the wood next to the fireplace and stacked it at the edge of the hearth.

  “Jack, can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “I’ve been thinking. Why would your partner put you in a position of protecting me? I mean, why bring you in at the last moment without a heads-up?”

  “You don’t know Wade.”

  “Is that a question?”

  “I was undercover on and off for the last year, working some contacts I had before I joined the Rangers. During that time, my partner discovered he had a knack for finding trouble—as in the law-breaking kind.” Jack pulled the to-go order from the bag. He drew out a new trash bag with the intention of throwing it in the back of the truck when they left.

  If he was lucky, no one would be able to tell they were there.

  “So you are on vacation and he had nothing to do and just happened to discover that someone’s trying to kill me?”

  “That sounds about right. Of course, it wasn’t much of a vacation. I came back for a high-school reunion and to help my dad.”

  “You really think that your partner just stumbled on information?” She made a sound like he was crazy for believing that.

  “I know that Wade has contacts that I know nothing about. I also know that if there’s corrupt cops or state officials, we’re the guys they call to clean it up.”

  “We as in the Rangers?”

  “I also know that I trust my partner and that he’ll call in a couple of days. That’s what he said. It’s been one. We need to wait until Monday.”

  “Oh, I am. I told you I would.” She curled her legs under her and the wolf on the couch.

  Everything was exactly the same as when he’d been here before. The heat had kicked on and the room warmed up—or he was feeling the pressure of illegal entry.

  “Still want the fire?”

  “Please.”

  He set the basics and lit the kindling.

  TDI Analyst Harper had to know more than she was telling him. Or maybe she didn’t know what she knew? That was a real possibility. If the professionals he’d seen that afternoon found them...

  What would he do?

  The answer stunned him. Was he that attracted to this woman wanted for questioning for a murder? Dammit, he was willing to take those men out. He believed she was innocent and was determined to defend her.

  The fire was crackling and popping. Megan moved one of the chairs closer, left the wolf blanket and walked behind him to open cabinets. He’d remembered how to get here and how to get inside, but he didn’t know where the plates were. So he let her look.

  After finding a plate, she stood in front of the open refrigerator door. “Too bad all the tea’s gone.”

  “I could brew some.”

  “It’s okay. Do you think your friends would mind if I took a beer?”

  “I doubt they’ll notice it’s gone. Or if two are.”

  She took the hint, grabbed two and twisted the tops off, then handed him one before leaning on the granite island countertop. He heated the food in the microwave and they stood in silence, drinking and waiting.

  Was he really that boring? He used to be fun. Hell, she’d accused him that morning of using too many words to get to the point. Now he couldn’t think of a thing to say.

  Undercover, that hadn’t been a problem. He hadn’t allowed himself to relax with anyone. Megan was the first woman in two years with whom he could be himself. Maybe it was just being at this house—where he’d failed—that made his brain stop.

  Did he remember how to not be serious? Maybe it was time to find out. Maybe this woman was the one to find out with? She certainly was nice to look at. He had to force himself to look straight ahead and not tilt his head and get an even better look at her propped up against the counter.

  But he didn’t have to stare at her to remember how nice her eyes were. Framed all day with the barest of eyeliner and mascara. He’d watched her put it on at his house, mentioning to Gillie that she was thankful to have backups in her laptop bag.

  Even with her in his sister’s jeans, he couldn’t stop admiring one of the nicest behinds he’d watched in a while. He’d gotten an eyeful while she paced the length of his living room that morning convincing him to take her to headquarters.

  The rest of her curves were hidden under the wolf blanket again. Not completely hidden. Every now and then he got a peek at her smooth tanned skin. He liked the idea of seeing her on a white-sand beach, turning a shade darker in a bikini.

  * * *

  JACK WAS ACTING a little weird. Well, maybe this was normal. How would she know? It was hard to remember that they’d only met the day before when he’d saved her from being abducted.

  The microwave dinged. Food was ready.

  “Table or fire?”

  “I’m getting as close to that fire as possible. I’ve always loved the fires my dad and I had camping. We never had a fireplace inside. They still don’t in England.”

  Now maybe she was acting weird. Hyperaware of him. Hyperaware she liked him...a lot. And hyperaware that she was babbling like the village idiot. She focused on her meal.

  She finished and poked the fire to make it pop again until she couldn’t handle no
t knowing. “What now?”

  “They have a nice selection of DVDs. They’re on the shelf in the closet.”

  “That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”

  His look and sigh of resignation told her he did know exactly what she meant.

  He set his empty plate on the coffee table. “Let’s take it one step at a time. We might be running for our lives down that creek in the morning.”

  She couldn’t dwell on the fact that she was wanted by the police and ruthless killers who had murdered at least two people that they knew about. Panicking wasn’t her style. Granted, she’d never been in a similar situation, but freaking out wouldn’t help.

  “Without access to my files, I can’t begin to narrow down who might actually be involved. Without contacting Therese or your partner, I’m not sure if we can even formulate a plan.”

  “Even if we could, it’s all contingent on what we’re told Monday. I still think our best bet is to sit tight and wait. As long as those black SUVs don’t find us.”

  “You didn’t answer me about going into town for internet.” She tried to be casual about asking. He might have said they’d wait without a plan, but her brain didn’t work that way. She wanted one. Sort of needed one.

  Jack was clearly not going to discuss tomorrow. Potential plans aside, she pointedly looked around the large rectangular room.

  “Are there bedrooms and a shower on the other half of the house? I found the toilet by the laundry and figured if people stayed here they didn’t bathe in the ice water of the creek.”

  Jack laughed. Finally. It was good to see his dimples back.

  “It’s good to see you taking this all in stride,” he said.

  “You seem surprised. To be honest, I’m a little surprised myself about how well I’m holding it together.”

  “I’ve been around women who wouldn’t have.”

  “It must be because I’m a military brat. I have a different makeup than most females.”

  “An admirable one.”

  Wait a minute. After two hours on a couch in a dark room, watching a cozy movie in a very romantic house at the end of most roads... Who would blame her for melting into his arms?

  “You know...we probably don’t need the complication of being together more than we’re already together. So can you tone down the charm...and the dimples?”

  “I have dimples?”

  “Cut it out.” If she’d been next to him she would have pushed on his shoulder. He would have leaned back a little closer. She could see it all playing out. Getting more comfortable with each other. Flirting a little more with each line.

  “To answer your earlier question, there are two bedrooms and a shared bath across the porch. There’s also a Murphy bed in the wall by the kitchen. You can take either bedroom you want. I’m not sleeping for a while. I want to make sure no one has followed.”

  “I can stay up—”

  “No.” He stood, lifting his plate, then hers. “You’re right about complicating our situation. Best that you not only lock your bedroom door, but take the key to the outside one, too.”

  The small fire was smaller. Jack crossed the room back to her, stretching out his hand in an offer to help her to her feet. As she took it, the blanket that had been wrapped around her shoulders fell to the floor. He pushed her hair behind her ear.

  Oh, God. She was melting and hadn’t spent two hours on the couch. The lights were off...not even low. It was crazy, but she wanted to throw her arms around this man and kiss him until he was just as crazy.

  Jack, on the other hand, kept her hands firmly gripped in front of his abs. She wasn’t really moving without bringing attention to those movements. So she stood there without a word...just like she’d shut herself up earlier.

  But there was a lot said in the long, soul-quenching look he gave her. Everything quickened. Her insides literally jumped. Her skin sensitivity to the touch of his thumbs on the backs of her hands skyrocketed.

  Was his heart beating as fast as hers? His pulse didn’t feel like it. Excitement radiated in his eyes, in the slight upward curve of his lips. He slowly raised his left eyebrow, the gesture that asked more than a paragraph of questioning.

  “I’d offer you the TV, but it doesn’t pick up anything out here without the internet.” His voice was normal—deep and normal. “I’d feel better if you chose the front room with the window instead of the back with the sliding doors.”

  “Sure.” Her voice shook like she’d just finished a mile run.

  “Megan, if the SUVs do show up, lock yourself in the main bathroom. It’ll slow them down.”

  “Sure.”

  “No heroics.” He squeezed her hands.

  “Sure.”

  Yeah, that was her. Staring into this gorgeous, dimple-on-his-chin man with abs she couldn’t wait to get her hands on. She sounded like someone who knew one word of English, agreeing with everything he said.

  Or like someone who wanted to complicate a relationship.

  “Well...good night.” He pressed the key into her palm. “Don’t forget to lock all the doors.”

  Shoot. He wasn’t going to tuck her in after all.

  Chapter Ten

  Jack closed the cabinet after washing and replacing the plates. He thought about the Murphy bed but decided on the couch. If he moved it to back up against the kitchen island, he had a larger visual range and it could be easier to keep his eyes open.

  Coffee. He needed coffee. After that good—but heavy—meal, he needed something with strong caffeine to keep him awake.

  The door banged open and he spun, reaching for his nine millimeter.

  “What’s wrong?” he shouted, chambering a round. He crossed the short distance to Megan and pulled her protectively under one shoulder, pushing her back against the wall. He kept his body between her and whatever threat she’d seen. “Damn glass walls. I shouldn’t have brought you here. It’s too open.”

  “Jack. It’s fine. I was cold and I’m waiting on the other half of the house to warm up. It’s on a different heater.”

  He pointed his gun toward the ceiling and stepped to the side. “You can’t get under the covers?”

  “They’re like ice. Seriously. I was about to take a shower, but my toes are blue.”

  “What are you doing without—Right. You don’t have real shoes or socks or other clothes. Let me look around.” He pulled the door behind him. The wind was kicking up, blasting through the cypress trees, blasting through him. “No wonder the door slammed against the wall. Shoot, it is cold over here.”

  Storms like this weren’t uncommon. He rubbed his hands together, raiding the dresser until he found socks. Digging through the drawer, he found a thick pair of woolens in the back. Then he looked in the bathroom for extra blankets. “Jackpot.”

  He carried the socks along with an electric blanket back to the living area. First thing through the door, he plugged the blanket in and draped it around Megan. Then he pulled a chair close to the fire, added some logs and pointed.

  “Warm up before you head back over.”

  “I’m not ready for sleep yet. And I don’t think you want my laptop running just in case they’re tracing it. Right? So, do the owners have games or something? No movies.”

  He thought back to the sensual good-night they’d already shared without any contact and agreed. Turning the lights off wasn’t safe. He called out the name of old board games in the same closet as the DVDs.

  “Oh, oh, oh! Battleship.”

  Jack set up a card table, then grabbed the game. Megan shivered again and pulled her legs into the oversize chair. He threw the last two logs on the fire, wiping beads of sweat from his forehead. Then he hooked his nine millimeter down his back at his belt.

  He took a long route around the house, stepping into the woods and waiting. The wind had turned even ch
illier with a briskness that smelled like rain. He picked up another armful of logs and verified that all the compartments on his truck were locked.

  “I verified that all the pieces were here. You ready to play?”

  Jack stuck his backside to the fire and then warmed up his front before sitting in his chair and setting up his board.

  They called out letters and numbers until Jack ultimately won. He thought that was it. That the cute state agent would head to bed once she lost. But she didn’t. She pulled the pegs from her game pieces and set up again. Resituating herself in her chair and verifying the setting on the electric blanket.

  “Why is it that when I’m freezing, I think of ice cream and all the flavors I’d love to be having in front of this fire?”

  “Now, that’s funny.” Jack fanned his T-shirt away from his neck. “I don’t know what’s wrong with your body’s temperature gauge. I’m actually hot.”

  “Know what would be funnier? Strip Battleship.” Megan laughed. “You’d cool off pretty quick that way.”

  “You’d have to win a game first.”

  “Oh, now that I’ve seen your strategy, I think I can pull it off. Or rather, you can pull it off.” She laughed more, finding her play on words hilarious.

  Pushing his chair away from the table, he said, “I’m going to check outside again and get some more wood if you aren’t heading to bed.”

  “It’s a bet, then?” she asked with an overly exaggerated sad face.

  “That you can beat me? Sure. But you need to sleep sometime soon. I’ll be waking you pretty early to keep watch so I can nap.”

  “I can take a watch now if you’re tired,” she offered.

  He shook his head. “I’ll be gone about twenty minutes this time. I want to walk to the main road for a look.”

  “Toss me that pillow, will you?”

  He did and left. It actually took him over half an hour to make it to the road, check out a noise from the nearest house and get back inside. The lights were off. His witness—or prisoner or damsel in distress who didn’t seem distressed at all—was fast asleep next to the fire.