Chapter 4 #2
My gaze flicks up to him again, just for a second. He’s still engrossed in his book, his brow furrowed slightly in concentration, his mouth pressed into a thin line. The way the muscles in his forearm shift as he turns the page shouldn’t be attractive, but somehow it is.
God, I’m a mess.
I force myself to look back down at my work, my face heating with embarrassment. He’s completely focused, oblivious to the effect he has on me, and yet I feel like my every thought is written on my face.
I just need to finish this necklace. Focus on the work. But even as I try, my mind keeps drifting back to the man sitting just a few feet away—the man who’s quickly becoming the center of my very distracted universe.
“That’s cool you make jewelry,” Ranger says, his deep voice pulling me out of my concentration. I glance up to find him putting his book down on the side table, his dark eyes locking on mine with a kind of intensity that makes my stomach flutter.
I smile shyly, setting down the Tanzanite crystal in my hand. “Thanks. When I was younger, I used to get bored traipsing across the globe with my father.” I twirl the edge of my necklace chain between my fingers, suddenly self-conscious under his gaze.
Ranger shifts in his seat, leaning forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees. “Are you bored now?” His question feels loaded, as if he’s not just asking about the moment but about something deeper.
“No, I’m okay,” I reply, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to entertain me or anything.” I set my stones on the coffee table, hoping to keep my hands busy before I do something stupid—like reach out and touch him.
The way the late afternoon sunlight filters through the glass doors behind him only adds to the effect, making him look like a Greek god descended straight from heaven.
“What if I want to entertain you?” he asks, his tone low and teasing, his lips curling into a faint smirk.
My eyes widen slightly, and I feel the heat rushing to my cheeks. “Oh?” I manage, my voice higher than I intended. “And how would you do that?”
Say by kissing me, I think desperately, though I know better than to hope for it. Ranger isn’t thinking about me like that. He’s probably imagining some harmless distraction—a board game or a cheesy card trick. Something light and silly.
But then he rubs his hand over the scruff on his jaw, the slow motion drawing my attention to those maddeningly perfect lips. “I can think of a few things,” he murmurs, his eyes holding mine for a beat too long.
My mouth opens to respond, but no sound comes out. My brain stumbles over itself, caught somewhere between Did he mean that the way it sounded? and Stop being ridiculous, Tory.
He lets the silence linger for a moment before rescuing me. “Let’s go for a walk on the beach,” he suggests, his voice steady and calm, as though he hadn’t just set my imagination spinning.
I nod quickly, standing from the couch and heading toward the door. “Okay, sure.” My voice is a little too eager, but I don’t care. I move toward my shoes, which are neatly placed by the door, ready to slip them on.
“You don’t need shoes for the beach,” he says, his tone amused.
“Oh, um… I knew that,” I stammer, hesitating with one shoe in my hand. Great, I think bitterly. Just add that to the list of reasons why I feel like the biggest idiot on the planet.
I can recite the entire periodic table from memory. I can identify the molecular structure of dozens of compounds without blinking. But sometimes, when it comes to the simplest, most human things, I feel hopelessly out of my depth.
I set the shoe down awkwardly, turning to face him. He’s already waiting by the sliding glass doors, his posture relaxed, but his eyes are sharp, watching me like he sees more than I’m willing to let on.
He slides the door open, stepping onto the lanai, the ocean breeze immediately rushing in to fill the space. I follow him out, the warm sand already calling to my toes, the rhythmic crash of the waves soothing and electric all at once.
As we step off the deck and onto the beach, I glance over at him, the salty air tugging at his dark hair. There’s something about him—something grounded yet untouchable—that makes me feel like I’m walking beside a storm. Calm on the surface, but powerful just beneath.
“I enjoy coming onto the beach at this time of day,” Ranger says, his deep voice blending with the rhythmic crash of the waves. “The sun’s not scorching hot, and there’s a nice breeze off the Atlantic.”
I smile up at him, feeling the soft sand shift beneath my toes. “I rarely go out much,” I admit, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
He glances down at me, his expression thoughtful. “It’s always good to get outside and breathe in some fresh air,” he says, sounding eerily like my father.
“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.
“How are you not?” I ask, running my hand up the hard curve of his arm. His muscles are solid beneath my touch, and I swear I feel the faintest tremor as I move my hand upward. “All these muscles,” I say, my voice softer now, almost reverent. “You are enormous.”
His breath hitches slightly, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t stop me as my hand roams higher, over his shoulder and across the broad expanse of his chest. His pectorals flex beneath my palm, and the motion sends a thrill racing through me.
My cheeks flush hot as my thoughts betray me, veering into territory I’ve never dared tread before. What else about him is big? The question strikes like lightning, and before I can stop myself, my eyes flick downward, settling on the buckle of his pants.
I linger there for a second too long, my imagination running wild, before I snap my gaze back up to his face.
His dark eyes are locked on mine, the intensity in them even stronger now. His jaw tightens slightly, and there’s something unreadable in his expression—something that makes my breath catch.
“Careful, Tory,” he says, his voice low and edged with warning. But there’s something else in it too, something that makes my stomach flip.
“I—” I start, but the words die in my throat. I’m frozen, caught between embarrassment and something far more dangerous.
His gaze dips to my lips for the briefest moment before returning to my eyes. “You think I’m intimidating?” he asks, his tone softer now, almost teasing.
“Yes,” I whisper, my heart pounding so loudly I’m sure he can hear it.
His hand moves, slow and deliberate, reaching up to gently brush a strand of hair away from my face. His fingers linger near my cheek, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver down my spine.
“You’re the one who’s dangerous,” he murmurs, his eyes never leaving mine. “You don’t even realize it, do you?”
I shake my head slightly, my breath hitching. “What do you mean?”
He leans in, just a fraction, and my pulse skyrockets. “You’re not just smart, Tory. You’re stunning. And that combination? That’s what makes you dangerous.”
I’m completely undone. My thoughts scatter, leaving nothing but the overwhelming presence of him, his closeness, his voice, and the way he’s looking at me like I’m the only thing that matters.
And in this moment, I think maybe I don’t mind being dangerous. Not if it means this. Not if it means him.