Tina Leonard - Ranger's Wild Woman

But whatever was going on back there, his twin and that sweet tenderhearted pullet were having one yahoo of a good time.

“Archer!” Hannah screamed, her voice delighted with laughter. “Stop!”

It was a full-blown ticklefest in the back seat, and from the sound of it, Hannah was on the happily losing end.

In the front seat, Cissy glanced at him without ceasing her filing. “Let me know if I can help you. When you decide to make your move, that is.”

“There’s going to be no move,” Ranger said from between gritted teeth. “At least, not from me.”

Cissy nodded. “Fear of failure?”

“No.” He glared at her. “Fear of the Curse of the Broken Body Parts.”

“Which is?”

“My brother Frisco fell for Annabelle Turnberry. He got a broken leg. Laredo got concussed when he fell for Katy Goodnight. I’ve kissed both of you. That actually puts fear into me. There could be two broken body parts waiting for me. No, it’s not fear of failure that sends me down the road, Cissy. It’s healthy self-respect and self-preservation.”

“You look fine to me so far. One piece, nothing missing. Nothing except a little spine, maybe. Just maybe. A small piece that could be mildly fractured and waiting for repair.”

“Not a durn thing wrong with my spine, thanks.”

“It’s pretty obvious you feel something for her, Ranger,” Cissy said softly.

“I feel protective. I feel brotherly. But nothing romantic, I assure you.”

“Okay. But let me make certain I understand this. You’ll know when love hits you by the amount of pain you suffer? Emotional masochism visited on the body in physical form?”

“To put it in my terms, doctor, if something breaks, I’ll know it’s the real thing.”

The giggling in the back seat subsided for the moment. Ranger decided they’d used up their oxygen share back there.

“Of course it could be your heart that gets broken,” Cissy said absently. “Which would be metaphoric, not a physical manifestation. And what would that tell you?”

“Nothing,” he said as his eyes searched the rearview mirror. He couldn’t see a thing because of the darkness, but that didn’t stop him from trying to see. It had gotten too quiet in the back seat.

“Where are we, anyway?” Cissy asked.

“A few hours east of Lonely Hearts Station, but probably a couple more hours from the state line. Desert.” Ranger peered into the darkness. “The wind has picked up so much it’s blowing sand against the windshield.” Turning on the windshield wipers, he tried to clear the dirty glass.

“Where are we going to sleep?” Hannah suddenly asked, leaning over the seat to eye him.

“Sleep?” Well, that was something he hadn’t thought about. When he’d left this morning, he’d figured on sleeping in his truck. He hadn’t planned on riders. Women. “I don’t think there’s a hotel anywhere around here. We’re pretty far into the desert, I think. There haven’t been any signs for miles.”

The thought of the four of them sleeping in the truck was unappealing, particularly as Archer would no doubt enjoy sleeping with Hannah more than Ranger would enjoy sleeping behind the steering wheel. Once again, Ranger felt an annoying spurt of jealousy heat the top of his head. “I’ll stop here and let you stretch your legs. Archer, if I can borrow my flashlight, I’ll check the map and see where we are.”

Pulling down a deserted lane, Ranger switched off the truck.

“I’m too tired to stretch my legs,” Hannah said. “I could go to sleep this second.”

“Here. Lay your head acquí.” Archer put a pillow in his lap and pointed for Hannah to lie down.

Ranger didn’t think she would—and then, she did just that. It was as if she never gave a second’s thought to what was lying beneath Archer’s innocent pillow. Ranger’s eyes practically popped from his skull. Glancing at Cissy, he caught her shrug.

“You still seem to be in one piece,” she whispered as Archer sang Hannah a lullaby. “Guess you were right. She means nothing to you.”

“Damn right.” He ripped the map from the glove compartment and stared at it with the flashlight’s dimming beam. “The two of you wore this flashlight out with all your hijinks,” he groused, but no one answered. “Dang, that’s a lot of wind,” he said, glancing up to peer at the window. “I think we’re in a sandstorm.”

“That sucks,” Archer said, his voice sleepy. “I’m hungry.”

“You can reach through the back window and grab something out of the cooler,” Ranger said. “I can’t tell where we are, but it’s nowhere close to civilization, I’m afraid.”

“If you wait a little while, maybe the wind will quit blowing,” Cissy said. “I’ll take a snack, if you don’t mind, Archer.”

To Ranger’s relief, Hannah popped right up and off Archer’s lap. “I’ll get you something, Cissy.” Poking her arm through the window, she pulled back quickly. “Wow! That feels like a thousand needles hitting my arm!”

“Let me do it. I’ve got sleeves.” Archer leaned up and snagged a bag from out of the cooler, shoving the lid back on quickly. “Pretty smooth, huh?” he said to Hannah.

“Yeah. Like you made good grades in Grabbing Stuff from the Truckbed 101.” She peeked into the bag before glancing up at Ranger. “Twizzlers?”

“That’s my kind of snack,” he said. “Twizzlers and beef jerky. Nothing better.”

“And tequila to wash it down,” Archer said, happily examining the contents of a brown bag he pulled from underneath Cissy’s seat. “Safe as a baby in a bank vault.”

“Whatever,” Ranger said sourly. “Grab the plastic cups from underneath my seat and pour, Archer.”

The scent of tequila filled the truck. Archer handed Ranger a plastic cup full of sweet clear liquid. “Driver first, since we’re parked for a while. Good limo-ing, dude.”

Ranger raised his cup. “Here’s to new beginnings. For all of us.”

Archer swiftly poured for the rest of them. They raised their cups and clacked them against each others. The men swallowed their tequila in a gulp, while Cissy and Hannah sipped at theirs more gingerly.

“Now,” Ranger said with a satisfied sigh. “I’m a new man. And I’m ready to beat you at strip poker, Miss Hotchkiss.”

Surprise made Hannah hesitate for only a split second, then she pulled out her cards with a sly smile. “I fancy your shirt, Mr. Jefferson.”

“I fancy yours, as well.” And he fancied her jeans and her bra and her panties off her little body—but that was a fantasy for later. One day when they were alone, and he’d tamed her, and she liked it, and being naked for him was her only desire in life, then he’d win her panties right off her heart-shaped bottom and drink her like this tequila. He poured himself more tequila for bravery.

He was going to make Archer wear a blindfold. And then when Ranger won her shirt, he was going to be the happiest man on earth. The fantasy would start tonight, and it would drift like a fairy tale, page by page, day by day, article of clothing by article of clothing. Oh, yeah.

The tequila was warming him, making him un-wrinkle. He stared at his cards, then at Hannah, who was watching him with a crook in her tricky blond brows. She didn’t look as though her hand of cards was all that swift. Ah! Sweet victory was his! “Pour me another, Archer,” he said with growing confidence. “Tonight is going to be my night!”

Ranger awakened slowly. He felt odd. His eyes didn’t want to open and his skin seemed strangely cold.

Very cold. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself awake and took stock of his body.

He was wearing nothing but a pair of black boxers.