Page 9
Story: Mine to Protect
“Uniform or professional?”I mused to myself.
Dang, why was I making this so difficult? It was only a meeting with an FBI agent. An FBI agent who I still had no insight on as towhyhe was coming to the park. Yes, a second woman went missing three days ago, three weeks after Christina Brown went missing—who still hadn’t been found—but why would the FBI take notice of two missing women?
Something else was obviously going on, hence the dilemma in front of me.
I held up both hangers. Ranger uniform to look official, but also possibly look less qualified since park police weren’t high on anyone's radar for clout. Or a black pantsuit, which would give off the impression I wanted, but wasn’t very official for a ranger.
“Ugh,” I groaned and turned to Benny, hoping for guidance. “What do you think? Which one?”
I swear he actually rolled his black eyes, then trotted out of the room. Not surprising since Benny was a male dog.
“Fine. Leave me when I need you most,” I grumbled under my breath. Which was a stupid thing to say since one, I was talking to a dog, and two, assisting in outfit choices wasn’t the reason I adopted Benny six years ago. His intense obedience training from the military, harsh looks and deadly bite were. Okay, and all that fur was quite snuggly at night when he hopped onto the couch with me.
“Focus, Birdie.” My gaze bounced between the two choices, once, twice, and a third time. Eyes narrowed at the dark green uniform, I sighed and tossed it on the unmade bed before shoving the other back into the closet.
Official it was.
Twenty minutes later, I shivered in the truck as I pulled into the parking lot; I lived so close to the central ranger station that the engine didn’t have time to warm up before I arrived. After shifting into Park, I considered the long, sleek black Suburban two spaces down that stuck out like… well, a nice SUV in a parking lot full of white park trucks. Benny’s nails scratched at the door impatiently as he turned his furry head to me.
The dog loved tagging along to the station because everyone spoiled him rotten with treats and long chest scratches. It didn’t happen much, but today I couldn’t push aside the urge to. Maybe it was meeting the FBI agent, or having an unknown man in my safe zone, or the two missing women. Whatever it was, having Benny within striking distance offered enough relief that I didn’t have to pop a Xanax before leaving the house.
Yay me.
A cold blast of wintery mix pushed against the door just as I shouldered it open, buffeting me back into the cab where Benny was nudging my back with his head, eager to hop out.
“Benny!” I yelled as he shoved me forward with his heavy weight before I could gain footing on the somewhat slick pavement. Not paying me any attention, he leaped past, forcing me into the door and sending me tumbling out of the truck. My rear end slammed onto the cold blacktop as I held on to the side door handle with a death grip.
In the distance, Benny’s long nails clicked along the pavement as he trotted toward the station's door. Damn dog.
Eager to not let my first impression with the FBI agent be one with a wet backside, I tugged on the handle to stand, only for the heavy door to swing shut, pinning me between it and the truck’s running board.
“Jiminy Cricket,” I grumbled.
“Need help?” a deep voice said above me.
My head whipped up toward the speaker. With a silent gasp, I shifted back for more distance from the unfamiliar man looming over me. A quick once-over showed him wearing hiking boots, dark jeans that fit snug around thick thighs, an untucked black cotton thermal shirt pushed up to his forearms despite the cold, exposing one fully inked forearm, and a short cigarette dangling between long, thick fingers.
When I found the courage to look up, I wished I hadn’t.
Near black eyes bore into mine with an intensity that warmed my core. And scared the pee out of me.
The hand not holding the cigarette extended down, but his stone face never shifted, his gaze staying locked with mine.
“Thanks.” My shaking hand gripped his steady one. Heat met my frigid fingers, sending tingles to erupt along my palm as it thawed. The ease with which he yanked me to my feet left an unsettling feeling at the display of his hidden strength.
After gaining my footing, I dusted off my backside while keeping my gaze locked on the stranger, which wasn’t difficult. Something was alluring about him. Something that drew me into the darkness behind his eyes.
Something that called to me.
“I’m normally not that clumsy,” I stated as I reached into the truck’s door pocket to retrieve my gun. After securing it in the holster, I stepped closer to the still-silent man to make room to close the door behind me.
He didn’t move, making me get so close that his fresh, masculine scent wafted up, causing my heart to race even faster.
“You here visiting someone or disputing a charge?” I asked, then took a steady step toward the ranger station front door.Damnit, where is Benny?Even as the thought passed, something about the man told me I wouldn’t need Benny’s deadly bite. This man, as intense as he was, wouldn’t hurt me. A feeling deep in my core reassured me that he wasn’t a threat, which was shocking. Every unknown man was a threat according to my fight-or-flight senses.
But not him.
Halfway across the parking lot, I turned, expecting an answer, but no one was there. A curious glance back to the truck showed him standing in the same spot, smoking the cigarette’s remnants.
Dang, why was I making this so difficult? It was only a meeting with an FBI agent. An FBI agent who I still had no insight on as towhyhe was coming to the park. Yes, a second woman went missing three days ago, three weeks after Christina Brown went missing—who still hadn’t been found—but why would the FBI take notice of two missing women?
Something else was obviously going on, hence the dilemma in front of me.
I held up both hangers. Ranger uniform to look official, but also possibly look less qualified since park police weren’t high on anyone's radar for clout. Or a black pantsuit, which would give off the impression I wanted, but wasn’t very official for a ranger.
“Ugh,” I groaned and turned to Benny, hoping for guidance. “What do you think? Which one?”
I swear he actually rolled his black eyes, then trotted out of the room. Not surprising since Benny was a male dog.
“Fine. Leave me when I need you most,” I grumbled under my breath. Which was a stupid thing to say since one, I was talking to a dog, and two, assisting in outfit choices wasn’t the reason I adopted Benny six years ago. His intense obedience training from the military, harsh looks and deadly bite were. Okay, and all that fur was quite snuggly at night when he hopped onto the couch with me.
“Focus, Birdie.” My gaze bounced between the two choices, once, twice, and a third time. Eyes narrowed at the dark green uniform, I sighed and tossed it on the unmade bed before shoving the other back into the closet.
Official it was.
Twenty minutes later, I shivered in the truck as I pulled into the parking lot; I lived so close to the central ranger station that the engine didn’t have time to warm up before I arrived. After shifting into Park, I considered the long, sleek black Suburban two spaces down that stuck out like… well, a nice SUV in a parking lot full of white park trucks. Benny’s nails scratched at the door impatiently as he turned his furry head to me.
The dog loved tagging along to the station because everyone spoiled him rotten with treats and long chest scratches. It didn’t happen much, but today I couldn’t push aside the urge to. Maybe it was meeting the FBI agent, or having an unknown man in my safe zone, or the two missing women. Whatever it was, having Benny within striking distance offered enough relief that I didn’t have to pop a Xanax before leaving the house.
Yay me.
A cold blast of wintery mix pushed against the door just as I shouldered it open, buffeting me back into the cab where Benny was nudging my back with his head, eager to hop out.
“Benny!” I yelled as he shoved me forward with his heavy weight before I could gain footing on the somewhat slick pavement. Not paying me any attention, he leaped past, forcing me into the door and sending me tumbling out of the truck. My rear end slammed onto the cold blacktop as I held on to the side door handle with a death grip.
In the distance, Benny’s long nails clicked along the pavement as he trotted toward the station's door. Damn dog.
Eager to not let my first impression with the FBI agent be one with a wet backside, I tugged on the handle to stand, only for the heavy door to swing shut, pinning me between it and the truck’s running board.
“Jiminy Cricket,” I grumbled.
“Need help?” a deep voice said above me.
My head whipped up toward the speaker. With a silent gasp, I shifted back for more distance from the unfamiliar man looming over me. A quick once-over showed him wearing hiking boots, dark jeans that fit snug around thick thighs, an untucked black cotton thermal shirt pushed up to his forearms despite the cold, exposing one fully inked forearm, and a short cigarette dangling between long, thick fingers.
When I found the courage to look up, I wished I hadn’t.
Near black eyes bore into mine with an intensity that warmed my core. And scared the pee out of me.
The hand not holding the cigarette extended down, but his stone face never shifted, his gaze staying locked with mine.
“Thanks.” My shaking hand gripped his steady one. Heat met my frigid fingers, sending tingles to erupt along my palm as it thawed. The ease with which he yanked me to my feet left an unsettling feeling at the display of his hidden strength.
After gaining my footing, I dusted off my backside while keeping my gaze locked on the stranger, which wasn’t difficult. Something was alluring about him. Something that drew me into the darkness behind his eyes.
Something that called to me.
“I’m normally not that clumsy,” I stated as I reached into the truck’s door pocket to retrieve my gun. After securing it in the holster, I stepped closer to the still-silent man to make room to close the door behind me.
He didn’t move, making me get so close that his fresh, masculine scent wafted up, causing my heart to race even faster.
“You here visiting someone or disputing a charge?” I asked, then took a steady step toward the ranger station front door.Damnit, where is Benny?Even as the thought passed, something about the man told me I wouldn’t need Benny’s deadly bite. This man, as intense as he was, wouldn’t hurt me. A feeling deep in my core reassured me that he wasn’t a threat, which was shocking. Every unknown man was a threat according to my fight-or-flight senses.
But not him.
Halfway across the parking lot, I turned, expecting an answer, but no one was there. A curious glance back to the truck showed him standing in the same spot, smoking the cigarette’s remnants.
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