Page 31 of Protecting What's Mine
The evening air is cool against my skin as I step out onto the deck, but the hot tub bubbles invitingly, steam rising in soft curls into the darkening sky. I shrug off the cover-up, draping it over one of the lounge chairs before climbing into the water.
The instant warmth is blissful, and I sink in with a sigh, letting the jets work their magic on my tense muscles. The sound of the ocean waves crashing in the distance blends with the quiet hum of the jets, and for the first time today, I feel myself begin to relax.
But only for a minute.
Because I hear the door open behind me, followed by heavy footsteps.
I fight to keep my expression neutral as Ranger steps onto the lanai, his tall frame silhouetted against the glow spilling from the house. He’s changed into swim trunks—a dark pair that sits low on his hips—and a plain black T-shirt that clings to his chest.
My mouth goes dry.
“You’re joining me after all,” I say, trying to sound casual even as my heart skips a beat.
He doesn’t answer right away. He just stands there, his dark eyes locked on me as if he’s still trying to figure out how to breathe. Then, without a word, he tugs the T-shirt over his head and tosses it onto the chair beside my cover-up.
I swallow hard.
Oh.
I’ve seen Ranger’s strength before—I’ve felt it when he holds me, when his hands roam over my body—but seeing him now, stripped down and raw, is something else entirely. He’s all muscle, lean and powerful, every inch of him carved like he was made to drive women insane.
“Hot tub’s big enough for two, right?” he asks finally, his voice low and rough as he steps closer.
“Maybe,” I murmur, sinking a little deeper into the water to hide the flush creeping up my neck.
Ranger climbs into the tub, settling across from me, his gaze never leaving mine. For a long moment, neither of us saysanything. The air feels thick and charged, the space between us crackling with something unspoken.
Finally, I break the silence, folding my arms on the edge of the tub and leaning forward slightly. “I thought you were ignoring me all day.”
His brow furrows slightly, and he shifts, leaning back against the wall of the tub. “I wasn’t ignoring you.”
“Yes, you were.”
He doesn’t deny it, which only makes my chest ache more. “I had things to think about,” he admits finally.
“Like what?” I press. “Dean?”
His gaze sharpens, and for a moment, I think he’s going to brush me off again. But instead, he sighs and scrubs a hand over his jaw. “Dean and I… we’re just making sure things stay quiet. That there’s no threat.”
“To my father,” I say softly. “Or to me?”
Ranger’s expression darkens, his gaze flickering to me like he hates hearing it out loud. “Yeah.”
I watch him carefully, searching his face for something—anything—that will explain why he’s pulling away from me. “Is that what this is about?” I ask. “The threat?”
“No,” he says quickly, his voice rough. “It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
He looks at me, and for a moment, I see something crack through the armor he’s so carefully built—guilt, longing,fear. “You,” he says quietly. “It’s you.”
The words hit me like a jolt, and I blink at him, stunned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I’m breaking every rule I’ve ever set for myself.” He leans forward slightly, his dark eyes pinning me in place. “I’m supposed to protect you. That’s it. That’s the job. But I can’t stop thinking about you. About touching you. About—”
He cuts himself off, his jaw tight as if he’s said too much.
My heart pounds so hard I’m sure he can hear it. “Ranger…”