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)
“Everything okay?” she asks, tilting her head slightly.
I nod, trying to shake off the weight of the conversation with Dean. “Yeah. Just had to check in with Dean.”
She studies me for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Does it have anything to do with my dad?”
There’s no point lying to her—not when she’s smart enough to see through it. “There’s been some chatter,” I admit, leaning back against the counter and crossing my arms. “Nothing confirmed, but Dean’s being cautious. He thinks this group might try to take action.”
Her face falls slightly, and she sets the pendant down, her fingers curling into her palm. “Against my dad?”
“Maybe.” I pause, choosing my next words carefully. “Or against you.”
She looks up sharply, her blue eyes widening. “Me?”
“It’s just a possibility,” I say quickly, pushing off the counter and moving closer to her. “It’s my job to make sure you’re safe, Tory. That’s all that matters right now.”
She watches me for a long moment, her expression unreadable. “Do you think something will happen?”
I crouch down in front of her so we’re eye to eye, my hands resting on my knees. “I won’t let anything happen to you,” I say softly, my voice steady and sure. “You have my word.”
Her eyes search mine, like she’s looking for reassurance, for answers I don’t fully have. “Okay,” she whispers finally.
I nod and stand, trying to ignore the pull I feel toward her as she watches me. I need to keep things professional, to put some distance between us, but even as I tell myself that, I know it’s already too late.
Tory isn’t just another job. She’s already gotten under my skin, and no matter how much I fight it, I can’t stop myself from caring about her.
More than I should.
More than I ever thought I could.
Chapter 14
Tory
The house feels quieter than usual as the day begins to slip away, the sun casting long golden shadows across the floor. I’m perched in the living room with my knees tucked up to my chest, staring blankly at the untouched book sitting beside me. I haven’t been able to focus for hours—not since Ranger’s phone call with Dean earlier.
Something shifted after that conversation.
Ranger hasn’t been himself since he stepped out of that back office. He’s been distant, quieter than usual, and every time I catch him looking at me, he glances away like he’s trying not to be caught.
Did Dean find out about us? About what happened last night?
I don’t know how he could know, but the thought burrows under my skin, gnawing at me. I hate this strange tension between us—this invisible wall Ranger’s suddenly thrown up.
I let out a frustrated breath and toss the book onto the coffee table. I can’t sit here and stew in silence all evening. My chest feels too tight, my thoughts spiraling into places I don’t want to go. I need to clear my head, and I know exactly how to do it.
The hot tub.
The safe house has a massive one out on the back lanai, overlooking the ocean. It’s perfect—private, secluded, and quiet. A soak in bubbling, steaming water sounds like the ideal escape right now.
With that plan in mind, I stand and head for my room, closing the door softly behind me. I dig through my suitcase until I find my bikini—a simple black two-piece that’s functional and comfortable but, admittedly, fits me well. As I pull it on, I catch my reflection in the mirror and pause.
Maybe it’s the frustration boiling inside me. Maybe it’s the way Ranger’s been distant all day, like he’s trying to keep himself in check. But suddenly, I want to see him squirm.
I grab a loose, sheer cover-up and slip it over my bikini before tying my hair up into a high bun. With a final glance at the mirror, I take a deep breath and walk back out into the main room.
Ranger is standing near the kitchen, a glass of water in his hand as he stares out the window, his back to me. The light from the setting sun pours in, casting an amber glow over his strong shoulders, making him look even more untouchable.
I should just slip past him quietly. I should ignore him like he’s been ignoring me.
But I don’t.
“Heading to the hot tub,” I announce, my voice light and casual as I waltz past him, my bare feet padding softly against the tile.
Ranger turns at the sound of my voice, and I catch the moment he spots me out of the corner of my eye. He freezes—like, completely freezes—his jaw going slack as his eyes drag over me in stunned silence.
The glass of water in his hand might as well be invisible because he’s not paying it, or anything else, the slightest bit of attention.
His gaze moves slowly, taking me in piece by piece—from the curve of my bare shoulders, down the slope of my waist, to the tie of the sheer fabric swishing around my thighs. When his eyes snap back up to mine, they’re dark and intense, his expression completely dumbfounded.