We got a booth in the corner, with Brandon sitting across from me. Maybe it’s a jerk move to split up the women, but two big assholes won’t fit on one bench. Still, I’m glad when Sam deliberately hangs back until Alicia chooses her seat—and she chooses the one beside me.
Even more glad to see that she didn’t bring her overnight bag down with her. As if she intends to return to that room upstairs.
A big knot of tension eases from my chest, letting me draw my first real breath since the moment she started screaming. She smells so good, fresh from the shower, her own delicious fragrance mixing with the soap and shampoo. Her thick hair is damp and piled on top of her head. Loose red tendrils trail down her vulnerable nape. Her tiny shorts and little top aren’t as new as her dress was but just as damn sexy—and I love that this is what she packed to wear during her time with me, as if she wanted to drive me crazy with her long sleek legs.
My brother reaches across the table. “Brandon Ranger.”
“Hi, Brandon.” All that shyness is there again as his giant grip swallows up her hand. “And this is my sister, Sam.”
In a county sheriff’s uniform. She tosses her hat onto the table and drops in next to Brandon. No shyness in this one. She lifts her chin to greet me and then turns to my brother. “What the hell does a werebear look like? Because these two are pulling some classic Hollywood horror movie shit, but you’re like…what? Winnie the Pooh? Because that’s the only bear I can think of that walks upright.”
His eyes narrow. “What about the Care Bears?”
“Ahhh, crap. Totally forgot about those. Do you have a big four-leaf clover on your belly?”
“No such luck.” And the fucker actually pulls up his shirt to show her his abs—probably hoping some muscle and hair will snag her interest. Probably praying it will, because the way Brandon’s looking at her tells me his interest is snagged hard. But maybe that’s how it is with us. One look, and we’re done for.
“There’s the Charmin toilet paper bears, too,” Alicia says mildly from beside me. She’s got her nose buried in the menu. Not looking at me yet. But that’s okay.
Her sister snorts out a laugh and Brandon shakes his head.
“My heart dies a little every time I see those commercials,” he says. “But an animated bear’s gotta make a living, just like everyone else. I guess wiping your ass on TV is one way to do it.”
The waitress shows up again, a trim woman of about fifty who already gave us plenty of sass and vinegar along with the pitcher of orange juice that Brandon ordered while we were waiting.
Her eyebrows arch when she sees who joined us. She looks to Samantha. “Just your usual, Sarge?”
“Yeah.”
“You too, sis? With double meat?”
Alicia sighs and hands over the menu. “Yes. Thank you.”
“Mmm-hmm.” She eyes me next. “You look like a double meat, too. Maybe a triple.”
Samantha snickers. “You’re earning that tip today.”
The waitress snorts right back. “Honey, if you put a little sugar on it, they’ll give you more than just the tip. So what does such a big and strong and handsome man like you want for breakfast this morning?”
Just my woman. But triple meat will do for now. And when the waitress disappears again, there’s no menu for Alicia to hide behind.
Hesitantly, she glances at me, and all the uncertainty in that look rips my heart to shreds. As if she isn’t sure how I’ll see her now.
I’m going to chisel away that uncertainty until it’s gone. And maybe she needs me to go easy, but I can’t be smooth and subtle any better than her untamed beast can resist the full moon.
“I’m crazy about you, Alicia Simmons,” I tell her now in a low voice, my palm covering the hands she’s got twisted together on her lap. “And when I say that I’m not going anywhere, I mean it. That ranger station up the street? Starting next week, that’s my new post.”
Her head shoots up and she stares at me, her green eyes wide. “You’re moving here?”
I nod. “I began looking for a job in this area about a month after our first conversation. And I got the best one.”
Hell, I got the best everything here.
I can see Alicia’s processing that news as the waitress drops by again to pour coffee into hers and Samantha’s mugs.
Samantha slides the bowl of packaged creamers to her side of the table. “So you’re taking Ranger Farley’s spot? I heard he was retiring.”
“He is.”
“The big log house at the other end of the station’s nature park comes with the job, doesn’t it?”
The district ranger’s residence. “Yeah, it does.”