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

CHAPTER SIX

Skye bamboozled me at every turn. Back on the beach she could have been an ice queen, for fuck’s sake. In Texas, I got to see the hardass side that appealed to Archer enough that he hired her.

Here in South Carolina? She ran hot as Hades, but sure as hell it wasn’t at me.

Because that ring on her finger scared the daylights outta her, and everyone around us could see her fear right there on display.

My stomach cramped. I slung an arm around her, pulling her into my chest. “Easy, honey,” I murmured.

Fuck, this assignment will be blown before we touch foot in our apartment.A joint holiday—ahem, honeymoon—apartment with one bed, ostensibly.

Guess I’m sleeping on the sofa.

“Don’t honey me,” she snapped, but thankfully my shirt muffled the sound and only I heard it. Maybe.

An older couple eyed us, and I gave them what I hoped was a Californian winning grin. What a way to do fifty states in five minutes. The girl sent my head on a whirlwind tour of my own sanity. How the hell we were supposed to be partners in this thing while all I wanted to do was find a quiet space and fuck like bunnies for the next hour eluded me.

Her, too, from the dazed look in her eyes.

Huh. I liked that one.

“Don’t do that,” she murmured, a little softer, thankfully.

“All part of the show.” I affected a swagger I sure as hell didn’t feel with her looking at me with a decent dollop of distrust as she swiped her fingers—glittering with that ring—over her pink mouth I just wanted to kiss some more.

Because she tasted like sunshine and sand and new beginnings and I never wanted to stop.

“We have a job to do,” she reminded me, one hand still curled in my shirt from our PDA. She looked down at it, surprise written across her stunning features, and pried her fingers free, flexing them.

“Way to give a guy a boner and whiplash in one. This is the assignment, honey,” I said pointedly.

“What, being a demanding asshole?” She pivoted in the circle of my arms, and stared around. “Ah, there’s a good place to start.” She strode forward, or tried to, but I pulled her back.

“Teamwork. There’s no I in it, Skye.”

“Exactly. So we do this my way.”

“Or we find our accommodation and get it done the Archer way.”

Her laugh tinkled around me like silver bells before her voice sliced through the effect laced heavily with derision. “There’s brown on your nose, Ranger. Did you know?” Her hair flicked me in the face as she marched forward.

I caught her hand, catching up with her all too easily, and fast enough I noted the tight expression on her face before she managed to hide it.

Ahh. That explained a lot. Perhaps our cover story was a little too good.

“You can be the Ranger if you want,” I said softly. “I’ll be satisfied with being the house husband.”

Her brow dipped though she didn”t look at me. “I don’t think anyone would buy that.”

“And yet here you are.” I squeezed her hand. “Busting past all the odds and expectations of failure.”

She stopped short. “What did you say?”

I caught her chin. “What aren’t you saying, princess?” She said nothing and I smiled slightly. “Hit a nerve, huh?”

Her gaze drifted past me and before I could snark at her further, her expression cleared and she pulled her hand from mine.

“Stay here, househusband.”

“Is this how it’s always going to be?” I called to her sexy backside that disappeared inside a jewellery shop.

“Better catch her now. Not a good habit to get into already.” The older gent and his wife winked at me.

I managed a smile and followed Skye toward the shop she disappeared into, nearly faceplanting right into her as she busted back on out.

“Whoa. That was fast. Didn’t find what you wanted?” I asked carefully.

Skye beamed at me. “Nope. Got exactly what I wanted.”

I waited for more but there was nothing forthcoming.

“Hope it was his credit card, love.” The matching lady with the older gent called gaily, waving a bag that looked cute and colourful, and probably cost a month’s wage.

Skye laughed, nope. Not laughed. Giggled. My girl giggled. The sound stunned me for a moment before I pulled my shit together and slipped my arms around her waist.

She didn’t so much as flinch, leaning into me and rising up onto her toes right there in the doorway to the jewellery shop.

“I found our mark-co,” she sang softly, shuffling her feet to let the next customer out.

The guy stood at least as tall as me and looked like something from the Godfather—or maybe the rap sheet in the manilla folder that Skye cuddled the entire way to South Carolina.

Tall, dark and broody looking, the dude looked like he could scent a bad deal or a weak chin a mile away. Or maybe a fake pair of tits.

Because right now my mark had eyes for one person.

Skye.

His gaze dropped down her body like he planned on undressing her. She giggled again, shimmying against me and more than one thing rose to attention.

Fortunately, it was my temper that cooled first as I hauled her against me and out of his way.

“This way, Skye. Let the gentleman pass,” I forced out pleasantly through gritted teeth.

“Not a problem at all.” He placed a hand on Skye’s shoulder and trailed his finger along her arm. “Is it, darlin’?”

She fucking well sighed into me.

The hell?

“Not at all, Marco. This is my husband, Hudson. Say hi to the nice man, Huddy,” she giggled again.

That noise was starting to get to me.

“Hi,” I said politely when my brain froze on the image of spanking the sound right out of her. From the look on Marco’s face, I wasn’t alone in my assessment of her behaviour. “Do you to know each other?”

“Oh no,” Said Skye, her face pink with the half-truth.

“Yes,” said Marco, looking me straight in the eye and offering a smirk. “Marcus Torrino. Or Marco.” He shrugged.

Got yourself a gangland name there, Mister Marco Torrino?

Either name would flag with Interpol and a dozen smaller home-based units, including ours. Archer took me through the process, and Brodie after on a fast call to bring me up to date. What I couldn’t work out was how Miss Skye made a new friend in thirty seconds or less in a shop.

“Oh, Marco reads my blog.” Skye looked up at me, her eyes shining, and blushed.

“Ah.” My brain blanked totally. No wonder she looked so damn happy, especially after I tore her apart for her opinions. “And, uh, what do you think?”

God, I hoped my profile said I was meant to be stupid, because I fucking well sounded like it.

“Yes, he loved the one about empowering women. You remember the one you read on the beach?” Her smile remained, though her eyes turned hard.

“Yes.” I broke her gaze and grinned at Marco. “She loves pulling a guy apart.”

“Indeed.” His eyes never left her. “I have a party on my yacht tonight. At Passion Cove. The Serenade. Would you like to attend?” His gaze lifted and his smirk that she seemed to eat right up remained. “Both of you, of course. I’m sure I can find something for you to do while I entertain your...wife.”

Fuck me if the leech wasn’t hitting on her right in front of me and telling me he’d fuck her while I drank his boat dry.

It’s an assignment.

She’s a summer fling.

And summer felt like it was already nearly over. Maybe a little too fast for my liking.

The truth was that I didn’t want this thing with her to end, though it likely had to if we were to remain partners and not end up hating each other. I foresaw a whole lot of nights alone in my new place in Texas with my hand as company while she partied hard on yachts with this crook.

Cover job or not, I wasn’t ready to let her sell herself just for a case that, like she said, was going nowhere. But it might in future. I knew the Ranger unit worked to feed information to various police precincts on different cases and helped out as an umbrella to pass down information.

On the other hand I understood the need to close up a test case like this as fast as possible and earn a few hat feathers like Skye wanted.

It just wasn’t going to be on this job. And I didn’t have to like another man touching her, cover story be damned.

“I’m sure we can make time. After we find our accommodation and...break it in,” I said baldly, squeezing Skye until she squeaked and shot me a sexy as hell death stare.

“Definitely.” She ignored me pointedly when I kissed along her shoulder, overplaying the enamoured honeymooner. She dug her blunt nails into the back of my hands until I was certain they would bear little crescent moons in perpetuity. “What time tonight, Marco?”

The smile she gave him was nothing like the tight ones she offered me the entire trip.

“Shall we say nine o’clock? Or a little later. I don’t mind waiting.”

I’m sure you don’t, asshole.

“We’ll make good use of the time,” I promised her, mentally adding a pink peachy ass into that equation.

“We’ll see you then,” Skye promised.

“Make sure you wear something...nice.” He smiled at her, and it turned slimier if such a thing was possible as he glanced at me, amusement lighting his eyes. “Something suitable.”

“Can do,” I said softly, meeting his gaze and letting a little of my own fire through the mask I donned the moment we stepped out into the main street of Love Beach.

You wanna play hard, motherfucker? I’ll play hard.

“I can’t wait,” Skye oozed, letting me tow her away before I blew something, like my temper.

Or the case, before it started.