Page 5 of Pining for the Ranger
I pull off the shirt of Boone’s I have been sleeping in after turning the water on. The steam billows around me as I step intothe gray-tiled enclosure. Water slightly less than blistering rains down my skin. After a few minutes of marinating, I finally feel warm again.
My thoughts inevitably turn to the man who has been my salvation the last few days when I grab the soap, which smells like him. I couldn’t be more thankful he was the one who not only found me, but took me in without a second thought.
He has been my protector and safe haven, but he also elicits feelings from me I’m positive are unlike I’ve ever felt before. My heart races in his presence. He sends chills through my body and desire pools in my core with the slightest brush of his hand, which seems to happen much more than is actually necessary. Not that I’m going to complain about being touched by the ruggedly handsome man. The attraction I feel to him is unprecedented.
At least I think it is.
It is quite possible I’m already in a relationship, but if that was the case, then why hasn’t anyone been looking for me? It’s been three days since Boone found me. We went to the hospital and then the sheriff’s department. They have received no reports of a missing woman, and their searches have been fruitless, leaving me with no clue to who I might be. They even ran my fingerprints to see if that would get results. I guess the good news there is I have no record.
When my skin begins to wrinkle and the water turns cool, I finally accept it is time to leave the warm, soothing cocoon the shower provides. I dry off, wrapping the towel around me before plucking up the toothbrush Boone gave me and running a bead of paste on the bristles. My hand swipes away condensation from the mirror so I can examine myself as I do every morning now while I brush my teeth.
The face staring back is familiar with its dark green eyes framed by long dark lashes. Yet, there are things I don’t remember about it and others I instinctively know.
My dark hair is up in a messy knot. I know this is how I usually wear it. I hate having it around my neck most of the time except after I wash it once or twice a week. It stays down for a day or so then.
I can see a few silver strands threaded throughout and wonder how long they have been growing in. They, along with faint lines at the corner of my eyes and across my forehead, indicate I’m older, maybe mid to late thirties?
My face is plump, much like the rest of me. I carry extra weight but can feel muscles beneath the soft curves. They, along with the fact I have been having a hard time taking it easy to recover the last few days, make me think I am an active person. One who doesn’t like to sit around.
I’m hoping to convince Boone to take me back out to where he found me, to see if it brings back any memories now the headache, which lingered the first few days, is absent. The urge to be outside is strong, which makes sense given where I was found. Apparently, the hike to get there is not for novices.
Spitting the toothpaste out, I rinse my brush before opening the door. Lost in thought, I step out into the hall, only to collide with Boone’s hard body, causing me to bounce and flail. His warm, calloused hands clamp around my waist to keep me from landing in a heap on the floor.
Goosebumps cover my body, and a moan falls from me when I realize his right hand landed beneath the slit in the towel on my bare flesh. My hand clutches at the now precarious knot, barely holding the towel around me.
A low growl from him has my eyes jerking to meet his, only to find his locked on my now generously exposed cleavage. The thumb on my skin sweeps back and forth, causing my nipples totighten and desire to pool in my core. Every nerve in me is alight with awareness.
We are playing with fire that can only end with us going up in flames, but what a way to go.
My mind is screaming for me to disentangle myself from his hold, but my muscles seem to have a mind of their own and stay locked in place.
His tongue swipes across his bottom lip, pulling it into his mouth where he bites down on the flesh. A whimper escapes and my stomach somersaults at the movement. His eyes travel up to my lips as his nostrils flair. There is no doubt he wants this as bad as I do.
My heart thunders as I inhale sharply in anticipation as he ever so slowly leans in, but the shrill ringing of a phone breaks the moment. My lungs deflate, crushing disappointment flowing through me as his hands drop and he quickly steps back.
He stabs his hand through his sandy locks, his head shaking, voice gravely. “Sorry. That shouldn’t have happened.”
Stepping around me, he pulls his phone out. Swiping across the screen, he answers gruffly, “Hello?”
My knees weak, I sag against the wall for support, watching him stride down the hall without a backward glance. I should be relieved by the interruption. With no memory, I could have very well just cheated on someone who is important to me, but when I’m around Boone, I find it hard to muster a single care.
Because if I’m important to them, why haven’t they found me by now?
Chapter Five
Boone
My thumb taps away on the steering wheel as I navigate the roads from my house to the ranger station. Ivy sits beside me, head turned, watching out the window. It took little to convince me to take her with me into work when I told her I was going to check in with the rest of the team. They have been out searching for any signs or clues of what might have happened to her.
I know she is going stir crazy at the house. She seems to have made a complete recovery from the accident, except for the nightmares which wake her each morning. It takes everything in me not to rush to her side and enfold her in my arms when I hear her distress.
Keeping my hands off of her has been more of a challenge than I ever anticipated. It’s more than the desire to caress all that soft, silky skin, which I absolutely ache to do. The pull to protect her, even from her own dreams, is overpowering.
This morning in the hall I almost gave in to temptation, kissing her. There’s no doubt if my phone hadn’t broken through the haze of lust I would’ve, and I’m positive once I got going, there would have been no stopping. From the hunger in her eyes and noises she was making, I’m sure Ivy wouldn’t have done so either.
And there’s a good possibility she belongs to someone else. Something I never do is poach another man’s woman. If she’s willing to cheat on him, she could turn around and do the same thing to me, even if it's not intentional in this situation.
But the woman could tempt a fucking saint and lord knows I’m certainly not one. So it didn’t take much convincing at all for me to bring Ivy with me, getting out of the house so we were no longer alone together. At least at work, the other guys will help provide a buffer.
