Romancing the Ranger (3 page)

Chapter Three

What a mess she’d gotten herself into.

She’d set out this afternoon on a quest to express her freedom and gain control of her life. Instead she’d landed herself in jail and under the thumb of another man who would spend the next two weeks telling her what to do.

As far as men were concerned, if she had to be chained to one, Wade Baker wasn’t the worst choice she could think of. He did have some redeeming qualities.

Even when his face wore a frown of annoyance, he was still a gentleman.

She could tell he was angry, yet his hand was gentle as they left the courthouse and he helped her into the passenger side of an old pickup truck.

He drove down Main Street then pulled into the Cotton Creek Drug Emporium, the small-town equivalent of a Walmart. “You’re probably gonna need a few things. It’s not fancy, but they’ve got toothpaste and most of your essentials. I’ll wait with Bagel if you want to run in.” He casually leaned back in the seat as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

Wow. This was new.

Brock always hated when she had to run into a store, even if it was for a bottle of wine to take to a party of
his
friends. He’d explained that his time was valuable, and she needed to complete errands
before
he picked her up.

“Thanks,” she said, climbing from the truck. “Would you like for me to get anything for you?”

He let out a whoosh of breath. “Oh yeah. I almost forgot. I need a pair of panty hose. Suntan-colored, in queen-size talls.”

She arched an eyebrow at him. Maybe there was more to the ranger than she’d first imagined.

He rolled his eyes. “They’re for my grandma. She asked me to pick some up for her for the church supper tonight.”

She nodded. “Suntan. Queen-size. Talls. Got it.”

As casual as Wade seemed, the image of his scowl stuck in her head, and Reese made a quick run around the drugstore grabbing a bag of dog food, assorted toiletries, a couple pairs of shorts, a few T-shirts, some flip-flops, a pair of canvas tennis shoes, and a value pack of bikini underwear. She hadn’t bought underwear in a package since she was a child.

She found the requested panty hose and added them to her stack.

On a whim, she dropped a package of snack cupcakes on the pile and grabbed a couple of candy bars. Her stomach growled, and she realized she hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

The look of surprise on Wade’s face as she tossed him one of the candy bars didn’t compare to the disbelief she’d experienced when she opened the truck door to see her chubby little dog curled in his lap, contentedly getting his chin scratched.

Brock wouldn’t even let the dog into his car, let alone stoop to actually pet the creature.

Wade unwrapped the candy bar and actually smiled at her before he caught himself and returned to his usual scowl.

That small smile gave her stomach a tiny flip. She liked the way one side of his mouth tipped up.

“Here you go.” She passed him the plastic sleeve containing the hose.

“Thanks.” He handed her a five dollar bill.

Waving it away, she said, “No, it’s fine. I’ve got it.”

“I don’t need you to pay for my…” He paused. “Panty hose. Well, my grandmother’s panty hose.” His scowl deepened as she tried not to laugh. “Just take the money.”

She held up her hands in surrender and stuffed the bill into her purse. “Okay, I’ll take the money.”

The scenery of the town passed by in a blur, and Reese tried to draw him out of his shell. Anything to earn a glimpse of that gorgeous smile once more.

Thinking men liked to talk about their trucks, she went for a completely passive topic of conversation. “I like your truck.”

Instead of the side-tipped grin, he frowned and practically growled an answer at her. “Yeah, sorry. My Mercedes is in the shop.”

Okay, that didn’t work. She tried a different topic. “So how long have you lived with your grandma?”

“She took me in when I was a kid after my mom decided the small-town life wasn’t for her. She liked things that were new and sparkly, and my shine must have worn off. My dad followed her, and my grandma took me in. After college, I came back and moved into the caretaker’s cottage to help out around the place. I believe in taking care of the people and things you have, not going out and buying new ones.”

Maybe it would be better if she stopped asking him questions.

The rest of their trip was spent in silence.

Wade turned onto a short dirt road outside of town that led to a charming blue and white two-story farmhouse. Clay pots of colored flowers dotted the large wraparound porch.

A sign hung off the corner of the porch reading
Baker’s Bed ’n’ Breakfast
.

Wade carried the dog and held the door for her as she entered the quaint house.

She found the country decor of overstuffed couches, quilted throw pillows, and antiques enchanting and itched to explore the dozens of books that filled the shelves lining the far wall.

The air smelled of vanilla and baking bread, and the tiny woman that bustled out of the kitchen had a smudge of flour on her cheek.

“My lands, child,” the woman said, drawing her hand up to cover her mouth. “The judge called and told me he was sending over Bud and Dotty’s granddaughter, but sakes-a-mercy, you’re the spitting image of your mother.”

A warmth filled her at the woman’s words. Her dad rarely spoke of her mother. “Thank you. I miss her.” Her words were soft, and she didn’t quite know why she’d said that last part.

Something about this woman reminded her of her own grandmother.

“I bet you do. Your grandmother and I were friends for most of our lives, and I watched your mother grow up. She had a wonderful spirit, and I loved her as if she were my own.” The woman crossed the room and engulfed Reese in a heartfelt hug. “You poor thing. It sounds like you’ve had quite a time of it today.”

She almost came undone at the sincerity of the woman’s words, and she wanted to stay wrapped in her cozy embrace.

It had been so long since she’d felt any kind of motherly affection, and she swallowed at the lump forming in her throat. “Thank you,” she whispered, sinking into the hug and drawing strength from it.

The older woman patted her back then straightened and narrowed her eyes as if taking stock of her appearance. “Think nothing of it. We’ll get you fixed up here. You call me Miss Abigail.” She lifted the bandage and peered at the cut on her head. “Looks like you conked your noggin a good one, but I’ve got some ointment and fresh bandages that I can send up to your room.”

Miss Abigail was a tiny petite thing, but she ruled the room as if she were a General Staff Sergeant. Reese was pretty sure that Wade was going to be returning those panty hose, there was no way this lady was queen-size or tall.

He took the sleeve from his front pocket and dropped it on the table. “Reese grabbed you your hose for tonight.”

“Oh thank you, sugar.” Miss Abigail looked up at her with a mischievous grin. “I always like to buy them big otherwise they’re so tight you need a forklift and some—”

“Don’t say it,” Wade interrupted.

Miss Abigail laughed. “Well, you know what I mean.” She took the injured pug from Wade’s arms then instructed him to take Reese’s things up to the suite on the second floor.

She turned back to Reese. “I’ll get your little poochie here some water. You follow my grandson up, and get out of those filthy clothes. I’ll bring you some fresh towels and a couple of aspirin. Have you eaten? Never mind, I’ll bring you a sandwich.”

Wade bent to kiss the woman’s wrinkled cheek with a murmured “Yes ma’am,” before leading the way up the stairs and depositing her into a charming room that smelled of cinnamon and apples. A blue and white quilt covered the bed, and an overstuffed chair sat in front of the window.

“I adore your grandmother already,” Reese told him.

“Yeah, me too. She’s pretty great.” He grinned then caught himself and returned to his former scowl. “I’ll leave you to it,” he said, before pulling the door shut behind him.

Reese looked around. The room was big, obviously remodeled to combine two rooms into one large suite. A deep claw-foot bathtub sat in one corner of the room, and all she wanted to do was fill the tub with hot water and sink into its depths.

Five minutes later, she sighed as she sank into the sudsy bubbles in the bathtub, the warm water a balm to her aching and bruised body.

She knew she should probably be calling her dad and her clients and figuring out how she was going to take two weeks out of her life to fill her sentence. But she didn’t want to think about that. Her clients would be fine, and since she hardly ever used it, she had plenty of vacation time saved up. She’d call in tomorrow and get someone to cover her appointments.

Her dad was going to be annoyed—he hated anything that messed up his perfect routine. Admittedly, she liked her own routine as well, and she really had no idea how she’d landed herself in this hot water.

She had no clue how she was going to rebuild the outhouse or get through the next few weeks of being in Cotton Creek. But she had been responsible for burning down the little outhouse, and she cringed, thinking about how much worse it could have been. She’d just have to suck it up and make amends.

Starting right after this bath.

For now, the soothing soak was just what she needed, and she gently pushed a swell of suds across the surface.

Her pink painted toenails peeked out of the water as she rested her feet on the edge of the tub and thought about the man whose jean-clad butt she’d just followed up the stairs.

She added his cute tush to the plus column as she tallied up her new guardian’s qualities. He seemed kind-hearted—not to her, but to her dog and to his grandmother.

He was tall, and the muscles of his bare chest proved that he either worked hard or worked out.

Despite the scowl that he so frequently wore, he was a pretty decent-looking guy. She liked his messy blond hair and the scruff of beard on his chin. His eyes were blue, and she liked the way they sparkled with mischief when he teased his grandmother. He was cute.

Who am I kidding? He’s hot
.

Her pulse raced a little as she thought of him seeing her half naked as she’d stripped off her hose in the jail cell. His hands had been gentle as he’d tended her forehead, and she couldn’t help but notice the way the muscles in his arms flexed and bulged when he’d been working to put out the fire.

Maybe she’d been looking at this all wrong.

Instead of seeing the next two weeks as a punishment, she needed to view her time spent in the tiny mountain town working with the hunky park ranger as an opportunity. A chance to try out her newfound freedom.

She didn’t really know anyone here so there was no one to judge her or to tell her she failed. What better place to try out controlling her own life than with her love life? And it would stick it to Brock, too. Why not see what it felt like to be the one to start something new—and with someone she’d never met, who had no reason to believe that she would automatically bend to his will?

The more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea. She had two weeks to be someone new. A different Reese Hudson. Not the boss’s daughter. Not Brock’s arm candy. But who she wanted to be. To do what she wanted.

To act exactly how she felt at the time. To act out even. Yeah, maybe she needed to act out a little. Do something wild and totally out of character.

Thoughts of Wade’s bare muscular chest filled her mind. Hmmm. Maybe a little acting out was
exactly
what she needed. And maybe Wade Baker was just the guy to act out with. She had two weeks of her
punishment
. Why not enjoy herself at the same time? Experience a little nature with an easy-on-the-eyes park ranger?

She considered her earlier list of requirements for the next man she got involved with. She already knew from the ride over here that Wade wasn’t vain about what vehicle he drove, and he wasn’t concerned about dog hair on his pants.

Yes, Ranger Baker would do quite nicely. He wore jeans, respected women, and was nice to her dog. Not to mention he had tight buns and abs of steel.

And she knew her dad would hate him. Which made her like him even more.

Now, she just had to convince the ranger.

A soft knock sounded on the door.

“Come in,” she called, expecting Miss Abigail to bring in the promised towels.

The door opened, and Ranger Wade himself walked in, carrying a stack of towels and a sandwich on a plate.

His eyes widened as she shrieked and splashed water over the tub trying to cover herself. “Turn around! What are you doing?”

Wade abruptly turned his back to her, setting the sandwich and towels on the bench seat inside the door. “You said to come in. How was I supposed to know you were naked?”

She grinned at the strangled way he said
naked
. “Look, just keep your back turned and pass me one of those towels.” She watched him take one of the thick towels and hold it out behind him. “I have a question for you, Wade. Do you own a suit?”

He walked backward toward her, the towel hanging from his outstretched hand. “You mean like to wear to funerals?”

Yes. Wade Baker would do just fine.

Now to convince him. First step to taking control. Here goes nothing.

And everything.

She stood up in the bathtub and reached for the towel.

But instead of seducing him with her slick suds-covered body, the quick motion suddenly had the sides of her vision closing in, and the last thing she saw was the floor rising up to greet her before everything went black.

…

“Holy hell!” Wade heard the splash of water as Reese stood up, then, from the corner of his eye, he saw her start to go down.

Quick reflexes had him reaching for her, and he caught her before she fell over the side of the tub.

But now his arms were full of a slick, naked, unconscious woman, and he froze, not knowing how to proceed.

How could he lift her out of the tub and not touch anything inappropriate? How could he preserve her dignity and not look when everything in him was dying for one glance?