Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 46078 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46078 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
“I know,” I reply with a small shrug. “I sit outside to read sometimes.”
His lips curve into a slight smile, one that makes my stomach do a little flip. “What do you like to read?”
“Right now, I’m reading about epigenetics.”
“Epi-what?” He chuckles, a low, rumbling sound that seems to reverberate through my entire body. I blush, the heat creeping up my neck as I process how his voice can have such an effect on me.
“It’s nothing,” I mumble, feeling self-conscious about my nerdy interests.
He stops walking suddenly, turning to face me. The movement is so abrupt that I nearly bump into him. His dark eyes lock onto mine, his gaze steady and piercing. “Don’t do that,” he says, his tone firm but not harsh.
“Do what?” I ask, blinking up at him, caught off guard by the intensity in his voice.
“Downplay that you’re probably the smartest woman on the planet.”
His words hit me like a bolt of electricity, but it’s not just what he says—it’s the way he says it. The slight growl in his voice when he calls me a woman sends a shiver down my spine, igniting something deep within me that I don’t fully understand.
I can feel my cheeks burning now, not because of the compliment—I’ve been called smart before—but because of the way he said it. Like it was undeniable. Like it was something to be proud of. And the way his eyes linger on me… it’s almost as if he sees me as more than just someone to protect.
“Thank you,” I manage to say, my voice softer than I intended. A small, shy smile tugs at my lips as I add, “I am kind of smart.”
Ranger’s lips twitch, his almost-smile making my heart skip a beat. “Kind of?” he teases, his tone lighter now. “You’re reading about… what’s it called again? Epigenetics? I can’t even pronounce it.”
I laugh softly, the tension between us easing just a little. “It’s just about how environmental factors can influence DNA. Like how trauma or diet can affect gene expression and be passed down to future generations.”
He raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “So you’re telling me what my great-grandparents ate could be affecting me right now?”
“Exactly,” I say, feeling a spark of excitement that someone is actually interested in what I’m passionate about. “It’s fascinating when you think about it. Our DNA isn’t just fixed—it’s a living, evolving part of who we are.”
Ranger tilts his head slightly, studying me with an expression I can’t quite read. “And you just sit around and casually think about this kind of stuff, huh?”
I shrug again, biting back a smile. “It’s what I love.”
“Well, I think it’s impressive,” he says, his voice dropping a little, making my heart flutter all over again. “I think you’re impressive.”
For a moment, I don’t know what to say. The words hang in the air between us, heavy with meaning, and I feel like the world has slowed down. The sound of the waves fades into the background, and all I can focus on is him—his eyes, his voice, the way he makes me feel seen in a way I never have before.
“Thank you,” I say again, my voice barely above a whisper.
He nods, the corner of his mouth curving into that faint, almost-smile of his, and we continue walking down the beach. But as we move, the warmth of his words stays with me, curling around my heart like a soft, comforting blanket. And for the first time in a long time, I feel not so invisible after all.
After a few minutes of walking, he stops with a quick laugh, a rich, warm sound that feels like it vibrates through me, and his dark eyes light up as they roam over my face. There’s something different in his expression—softer, maybe, but no less intense. It sends a flutter through my chest, and I can’t help but smile back.
“I have to admit something to you,” he says, his voice quieter now, like he’s sharing a secret meant only for me.
“Okay,” I reply, my curiosity piqued.
He rubs the back of his neck, a subtle gesture that makes him seem almost boyish despite his towering presence. The vulnerability in that small movement is unexpected and wildly attractive. Why is that so hot?
“You’re a little intimidating,” he confesses, his lips curving into a sheepish grin.
My jaw drops, and I blink up at him in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? You’re intimidating.”
He tilts his head slightly, his brows furrowing as if he genuinely doesn’t understand. “How am I intimidating?”
I let out a soft laugh, my nerves bubbling over as I step a little closer. The warmth radiating from him is magnetic, drawing me in despite the million reasons I should keep my distance. My hand hesitates for just a moment before I reach out, my fingers brushing the fabric of his sleeve.