Summer with a Ranger: The Love Beach Collection: A Texan Devils Undercover Summer Fling Romance

CHAPTER ONE

One week into my job as the newest recruit in Rhys Archer’s elite Texas Ranger Unit out of Austin and I was sitting on a beach in Tijuana, sipping cocktails decorated with pretty umbrellas and plastic red cherries.

Hudson Whittington, Texas Ranger.

Who would have thought it?

It wasn’t a bad way to start a new job, if I didn’t say so myself. Not only did I pull undercover work as my first assignment, but I also got to wrangle the floating eye candy tourist population for a solid seven days.

My first wasn’t a long assignment, but I knew the gig for what it was: a test.

Make contact, get the product, and swan around for a full week. Don’t trip yourself up, and don’t break your cover. Come back home when you’re done.

Those were the rules I was given to earn a shiny brass star and a white hat. My sandbox to play in. Do the job, and do it well, or haul my ass back to California where I spent the last nine years as a fixture in the LA Fire Department.

I’d never had a problem with my career choices and I loved my job, but now that Archer had given me a taste of what I could do on this side of the border, I wasn’t sure I could go back.

Which made this a pass/fail task with an ultimatum at the other end. It was kind of easier, to be fair.

And three days into my allocated time on the beach, I was halfway there. I made the contact, tasted drugs for the second time in my life—the first time during college and I fucking hated the lack of control over my body and thoughts—and made a faux friend for life in my Tijuana dealer, Tag. The name had a ... nice ring to it. I was scheduled to pick up the product I was supposed to pretend to distribute back home in Cali in a few days, then head home.

Only if I had my way, I wasn’t going back to Cali. Austin, Texas, would be my new/old-to-me baseline. The dirt I grew up tasting.

Memories of my childhood attempted to flood back: the house I used to live in, the family that fell apart. That was how I ended up on a different side of the country. My chest closed at the emotional deluge I rejected on sight, and I sucked in a long, slow breath.

Not the time. Or the place.

Because right now I had a date with a beach.

I sank into the divot my body made in my borrowed beach towel, the sand accommodating my mass gracefully, heating my back in the sun-warmed sand. It wasn’t midday yet, and the extra endorphins already flooded my body. Being a Texas Ranger might not be like this every day, but right now, I’d take it.

Of course, the singular doubt in my gut remained that maybe I wasn”t as worthy as Archer thought.

Walking into his office was the singularly most nerve wracking thing I”d ever done. The quiet man with rust coloured hair and a scarred face stared across the desk at me while I tried not to fidget like a teenage kid called in to see the principal.

I’d always been proud of being a firefighter, but that career choice seemed flimsy the moment I walked into the Austin unit’s office. The space was filled with men in pressed shirts and white hats, that little star badge displayed somewhere on their person.

Dressed in faded jeans, boots I did up at the entrance foyer, and an old gray LA Fire Dept. tee, I stood out in the worst of ways.

Not that I felt lesser in any physical sense; I was more than a match for the team in terms of muscle and height, but ego wise... I was born and bred in Texas and made the move to LA chasing sun and surf.

And a little excitement.

Those career choices got me laid, paid and in front of Archer, or at least that was what he told me. How he picked me out of the population of previous and current Texan residents I couldn”t say, only that I was grateful for the chance.

That, and my intention not to fuck up.

That seed of doubt dissipated with a fine spray of sand and salt water dripping on me. I cracked one eye open to find a visage of tanned and toned skin in a sapphire blue bikini standing before me in a sarong. One muscular thigh slipped out from beneath the gold and blue filmy material.

The girl perched on her towel she placed right beside me, closer than any stranger should be, drop dead stunning or not. My stomach tensed, and not by design, just from her proximity. One slim arm reached out behind her. She arched her back slightly with one leg bent, and the other straight out as she looked down at the imperiously.

“You”re my bodyguard for the next four days.”

”I”m your what?” I raised both eyebrows and tried not to waggle them, but holy shit on a beach ball was she gorgeous. ”I didn”t know they made them like you in Tijuana.”

She smirked, nary a giggle in sight, flicking beachy blonde waves over her shoulder. Everything about this woman was hard, in a goddess sort of way. From the set of her mouth to the fiery blaze behind deep blue eyes, her straight spine, the way she sat...everything was utter perfection to my eyes.

Except maybe that golden hair that reminded me of California.

In one fell swoop I was home sick.

Setting my teeth, I flexed both arms, tucking them behind my head and closed my eyes. I couldn”t work out what was hotter: her gaze, or the sun.

”I”ve got a deadline, and I need protection from this.” Her tone bordered on derisive. I kept my eyes closed but imagined her waving a hand at the remainder of the population on the beach. ”You’ll stop them from hitting on me.”

”What makes you think anyone wants to hit on you?” I was glad my eyes stayed shut. After that snappy little repartee, I fully expected a slap in the face.

Sand flicked on my stomach, and I managed not to flinch. Just.

”Asshole,” she said idly. “What’s your name?”

“Hudson. Whittington.” I managed around a thick tongue that didn”t’ feel like it belonged in my mouth, and cracked an eye open.

“Skye Gallagher.” She held out a hand, complete with callouses, and short, French polished tips.

The best of both worlds. A Queen, if rough at a few hidden edges. I liked what I saw already, though I knew she’d be a ballbuster. Knowing she worked with her hands sometimes, even if it was sport or around the yard, lit something inside me. I wanted to see her sweat. I wanted to see her get filthy and lick her clean.

Where they fuck did that come from?

I had a job to do, for fuck’s sake. But still, a little eye candy and a summer fantasy could be fun to indulge in. Plus, her proposition fit my cover. Yeah. That works.

I pulled my head out of my cock and bullshit long enough to respond to her.

“That’s apt.”

“How’s that?” She stared at me imperiously through narrowed, slitted eyes.

“Gallagher. It means stranger. Or warrior. Depends which side of the internet you believe.”

“How do you know that?”

“I grew up living next door to some Gallaghers. Good neighbours.”

“Funny, that.” Her eyes softened, the tiniest bit, or maybe I imagined it. “Now stay, Huddy boy, and look pretty.”

Who said I was staying?

But we both knew I would. I kept the wince off my face at the shitty nickname all the same.

”Yes, ma’am.”

After that she stayed silent while my mind wandered. I was halfway through a damn fine daydream about toned thighs and a blue bikini that matched her blue eyes when a finger poked me in the ribs.

”Wake up, baby oil boy. You”re turning lobster red.”

”I am?” I cracked open an eye and looked down at my chest, spotting nothing but a bronzed plateau that matched hers, albeit with less curves. ”I don”t see what you”re seeing.”

”Clearly not.” That smirk was back in her voice.

”So, I”m your bodyguard.” I mean, who was I to say no to a pretty woman? Besides, my job was to stay low. Look like an overgrown kid out for fun and sun and maybe a few drugs. The thought of her believing that story hit me square in the guts, and I pushed it aside. “Who says we”re staying the same length of time?”

“I’m here for a few days. Not sure.” Skye shifted beside me as I raised up onto my elbows, cracking my neck. She winced. “Ouch.”

”Yeah, that wasn”t the best.” I rubbed the back of my neck. ”Where are you staying?” She rattled off the name of the quaint little beach cottage Archer booked for me, a word I hadn”t been able to pronounce since I arrived. ”Oh, good. We’re staying in the same place,” I said dryly.

The tiny little cottage had eight rooms, each seemingly smaller than the last, but it was cute, across the road from the beach, and it was two doors up from my new bestie, Tag the mini drug lord.

”Perfect.” She smiled, and her face lit up in a whole new way. ”Staying till Sunday?”

”Yeah.” I pretended not to be floored but might have drooled on her a little.

Damn, a girl with her own mind, knowing what she wanted and who looked like that? Ticked all my boxes, straight up.

Still, I was supposed to be working. Four days I was going to be paired with this girl? I mean, I could haul my ass off the beach and leave her to it any time. She wasn”t quite the type of damsel in distress I was used to rescuing. But seeing as I had some spare time...

”I do have shit to do here, you know.”

”I’ll be fine while you do your manly stuff. Anyway, baby oil boy, or whatever you use. You”re gonna look like a lobster by dinner.”

”Yes, ma’am,” I said resignedly, hiding my own smirk, thinking back on her introduction. ”What”s your deadline for?”

”Creative nonfiction.”

What the fuck is that?

She raised an eyebrow. ”Eloquent. Maybe you can be my test subject.”

”I– what?” I shook my head, rubbing sunscreen on my face and the rest of me.

Her azure gaze tracked an appreciative line down my body that stirred my blood. I returned the favour, leaving my attention to wander over her toned calves and stomach with that sexy goddamn line down the middle. The girl put some serious hours into working her body beautifully for her to look like that. I was just there to appreciate it.

”You really don”t have a filter, do you?” She laughed at me, bringing me back.

Golden waves settled almost to her waist in long, oversized curls, looking natural as hell. Actually, everything about her looked natural, which was a bit of a relief. Living in LA meant there was a whole lot of fake going on, and I”d never been able to stomach it. Tits with implants just didn”t feel right in my hands.

She laughed outright, and my mouth snapped shut.

I gave her a crooked smile. ”Nope. No filtered fucks served here.”

”Good. Maybe you can call me out with my bullshit if it gets too much.”

I raised both eyebrows. She seemed real about it, but who knew. Maybe I’d get to test that out some time. Four days with this girl and we’d be driving each other fucking nuts. She was clearly a professional of whatever creativeness she delved into. I was more the laid back sort, happy with my ass in the sand and making sure everyone around me was safe.

Still, she was sexy as hell, and I did have time on my hands.

”I can do that,” I hedged, wondering what the hell I just signed up for.

I straightened, wrapping my arms around my knees and looked out over the water. The glorious morning merged into an afternoon filled with dark clouds across the horizon. Tendrils of out of season fog preceding the oncoming storm crept across the water.

”Looks like you want to pack that up, princess.” The last rays of sun soaked my back with glorious heat. Here’s hoping for more assignments over the border. ”So, what”s this creative thing?” I scratched my brow, trying to remember what she said.

Skye jerked, staring at the encroaching wall of water, and I didn”t mean the surf sort. ”Shit.” The girl swore liberally as she packed her things, earning a few glances from other beachgoers as they collected their belongings, trudging back up the still-warm sand.

”Walk you back to the cottage? I think we”re staying at the same place.” I repeated myself as I folded my towel and stuffed one hand into my pocket.

”Thanks.” Not beating around the bush, she swung an oversized beach tote onto her shoulder with everything stuffed inside, including a pale pink laptop case decorated with gold swirls all over it.

”Cute.” I offered her an easy smile. I hoped. When she shot me a raised eyebrow and a disapproving look, I waved a hand feebly at her bag. ”Laptop case. It”s pretty.”

Great grasp on the English language right there.

”No filter, and not smooth. Glad you’ve got muscles going for you, big boy.” She tapped my shoulder and strode ahead of me. Each step was sure in the sand, her toned calf muscles tensing with each step as she ploughed her way toward the street.

“Maybe a heart to match,” I murmured to her back.

I kept my eyes fixed straight ahead and rolled my shoulders. Welp. At least the last few days of my trip wouldn”t be wasted. I could perfect some of that lacking charm that the rest of the unit had going on before I walked back in the door and claimed my badge on Monday.

Keeping my eyes fixed firmly ahead I couldn”t help my gaze wandering towards the perfect pair of hips that swayed gently as she walked.

Okay, so I lied to myself earlier. Not everything was hard about her.