Page 1 of The Ranger (Black Hawke Security #5)

COLE

EIGHT MONTHS AGO

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“Y ou want one of these T-shirts, Coley Moley?” Scarlett asks, wobbling on her feet while tugging on her own shirt that says Kung Fu Bodyguards.

Wait, is that the BHS logo?

I glance at Josh, who shakes his head.

Coley Moley. I wish she wouldn’t call me that—it’s the stupidest fucking nickname in the world. But Scarlett Walton is not someone you can control. She’s wild and hot in the way that Mad Dog sauce is; she’ll burn you from the inside out like a goddamn volcano.

I’m not going to lie; I’d love to feel the wild flames of her orgasm on my tongue.

“You have one in my size, or shall I take yours?” I smirk as my gaze roams the length of her body, paying special attention to her round breasts and tiny waist.

This sassy witch has held my attention since the moment I walked in, and Cassy—her best friend and my bossy’s wife—introduced us.

I think it was the twirl and then the handshake.

Who does that?

Yet I smiled. It might also have had something to do with her black skirt, which lifted, showing me a juicy peach covered by a very thin layer of lace. I got an instant hard-on, which doesn’t seem to have completely ended the entire time I’ve been at the bar with my friends and colleagues.

I’m not complaining.

The black suspenders connected to Scarlett’s skirt tease her nipples and threaten to fall off her shoulders. I’ve spent a lot of the night imagining her with no top or bra, and just those suspenders, and how I’d tease her (and myself) for hours.

The dozen cheeky grins she’s fired my way tells me she knows what I’m thinking, and I don’t care in the slightest. The half-drunk woman is trouble with a capital T, and I am here for all of it.

All of her .

If I don’t have her on my cock by the end of the night, I’m handing back my Silver Star—an award I received while on active duty as an Army Ranger.

I won’t.

The star is inscribed with For Gallantry In Action, and I’m damn proud of it. It represents courage when facing an enemy of the United States during armed conflict.

Trust me when I say it will take zero courage to scoop that woman into my arms and carry her out of here. I plan to fuck her senseless until the sun comes up.

And she will like it.

“You want it, come and get it.” Scarlett wiggles her finger, and as my body starts to move, Cassy holds her hands up.

Damn cock blocker.

“Ignore her.” Cassy tugs Scarlett away, toward the dance floor.

“Coley Moley?” Josh, my boss and a US Navy SEAL, asks as he lifts a brow.

I take a sip of my beer, almost pouring it down my front because I’m smiling so hard. That woman is going to purr so loud when I make her come. My cock is pressing against my zip, ready for action.

“Got a nickname; you know what that means.”

“Sounds like it’s going on your T-shirt.” Josh goes back to watching Cassy.

Half the males in our office are in love, and if I thought they were protective alphas beforehand, now things are crazy.

“She won’t go poof and vanish into smoke, you know,” Ryder says, slapping Josh on the shoulder.

As if he can talk.

Josh lets out a growl.

“Is anyone going to tell me about these T-shirts?” I ask and do a double-take when Scarlett does an actual handstand on the dance floor.

“Jesus,” all three of us say when she flashes the entire club. Then, unperturbed, she leaps back up and begins twerking.

I run a hand over my jaw and wonder about my sanity for a moment. Then my cock jolts eagerly, and I realize it's not my brain reacting.

“Could be wrong, but I think Scarlett is certifiable.” Ryder crosses his arms.

Whether she is or not, I bet she gives the most incredible blowjob. I’m fully invested in riding that wild pony.

Time to speed things up.

I toss back my beer, slamming it on the bar behind me, and head to the dance floor.

“Later, boys.”

I join the girls and begin dancing.

Scarlett stops dead, hands on her hips. One juts out as she watches me like I’ve offended her.

I’m a confident man. I’ve been in the special forces for over a decade, and to say women are attracted to me is an understatement. There’s no point in denying that.

Between my six-pack and dimpled smirk, I can make panties disappear.

Dancing? Not my forte.

Scarlett is like a wild animal, narrowing in on her prey’s weakness. If I react, she’ll attack or turn tail, uninterested.

Game on, sweetheart.

“Good god, are you trying to clear the room, Coley Moley?”

Nice try.

“Correct,” I dance closer, lean down and say, “Then I can drag you home and see what you look like without that T-shirt on.”

Scarlett barks out a laugh and turns her back on me, wiggling that ass, but I saw the flicker of attraction in her eyes.

When I say flicker, I mean a huge flame.

Clearly Scarlett doesn’t do things by halves.

Which makes my fantasy of her mouth on my cock even more thrilling.

The other girls welcome me, so we keep dancing while Scarlett shoots flirtatious and curious glances at me from the edges of the group.

Finally, she moves closer. I grab her hand and spin her around, tugging her ass against my hardening cock.

“Is it working?”

“Feels like it works just fine.”

An hour later, we leave the club and take an Uber to her place.

I walk Scarlett to her front door—technically she skips—take her key, unlock the door and watch, amused, as she leans back against the doorjamb.

Then, fuck me, she flicks one of her suspenders so that it bounces off her breasts.

Her nipples harden.

“Coming in, Army boy?”

Jesus. Of course, I fucking am.

I close the gap, slide my hand under her short black skirt, grab a handful of her gorgeous ass, then lower my face.

“The question is, where am I going to come?”

She stretches up on her toes and, with her lips an inch from mine, says in the sexiest voice I’ve ever heard, “Down my throat.”

I lift her, and her legs wrap around my waist.

“Same page, baby. Same page,” I growl.

The door slams closed behind us.

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FOUR MONTHS LATER

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“Y ou!” Scarlett points at me as she stands in the doorway of the Black Hawke meeting room.

We’re in the middle of a confidential meeting while Penny holds the door open, looking flustered and apologetic.

“Fuck,” I curse.

I’m not cursing because I never called her again. We’ve occasionally seen one another as friends in the same social circle we hang in, and while there was some awkwardness, neither of us pursued the other again.

I’ve been fully aware I haven’t seen her for a while, and now it’s incredibly clear...and the reason why even clearer.

At least partially fucking clear.

Why she didn’t speak to me earlier will need answering.

For three hours and twenty-something minutes, we fucked like wild rabbits the night I went back to her place. It was amazing. Highly recommend suspender belts for sex play. The things you can do with them...but I digress.

I thought about seconds, thirds and fourths, but Cassy and Josh got married. Then, with Savannah getting shot and Ryder getting married and work being busy, I decided it was better to not get involved with my boss’s wife’s best friend.

That doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about her.

Trina and Marshall seemed to be dancing around their attraction, and I’d put money on them getting together. Aidan looking unimpressed was a reminder that my decision was smart.

Does it mean I wasn’t keen? No.

Scarlett is wild, but as I plunged inside her, those eyes, which love to challenge, softened, and I saw the girl inside who wanted to love.

To be loved.

That was what made me step back.

I can’t be the man my father became, the one who left his family and failed us all. I’m not yet sure I could be better.

So I’ve been watching her.

Wondering where she is.

And damn, seeing her now, glowing...or rather, glowering...I realize a whole lot more was happening in the background.

Jesus, she’s pregnant.

“Fuck? Yes, Cole, you did that.” Scarlett plants her hands on her hips. “And ignored my calls.”

She phoned me twice a week ago.

I thought it was a booty call.

Josh, Marshal and Aidan turn to face me as I wipe a hand over my face.

“I’ll take her into the boardroom,” Penny shoots me a narrowed look.

Fuck.

How did this happen? Christ, I know the answer to that.

Scarlet spins. “Oh, no, you fucking won’t—”

Josh holds up his hands, and we all go quiet. “Hey. No one speaks to Penny like that. Scarlett, clearly a conversation between you and Cole is needed here.”

Ya think?

I stand. Scarlett glares at me, muttering, fine and then disappears. The door clicks shut, and I let out a breath. When I refocus, everyone is staring at me, looking for answers.

I think they know what has happened.

It’s pretty obvious.

“What? She’s hot. A little crazy, I’ll admit. But we fucked. The end.”

Except clearly it’s not.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Josh shakes his head. “I should have hired monks.”

I snort.

“They’re not so good with guns.” Wait, do monks train in weaponry? “Shit, do you think they know how to shoot?”

I’m procrastinating.

This is not good. Not good at all. I can’t be a father.

I can’t.

There’s a reason I left home early, joined the US Army, and stayed away from my family as much as possible. My parents divorced when I was thirteen. My father was disloyal and hurt my mother.

I hated him for it.

The day Mom said in anger, you’re just like your father, I enlisted.

I will not be like him. Never. And if that meant staying single and never having kids to prove it... well, that was my game plan.

Until now.

Obviously.

You are just like your father.

Their divorce destroyed me in ways that no one else saw. Outwardly, I appeared fine. Inside, the man I grew up trying to impress and be like became someone I disrespected. I felt confused, angry, aimless.

The army was the best decision I ever made.

It gave me structure, forced me to become a man of honor—giving me men to look up to and respect—and purpose.

It also gave me brothers and a career I’m incredibly proud of. I’ve fought for my country and family.

Since joining BHS, my relationship with Mom has improved. I see both her and my sister on occasion and speak to my father when needed. The two of them still go at one another when in the same room, so we avoid having them in the same room at all costs.

At thirty-three, there have been a number of times I’ve wanted to punch my father. But I won’t lower myself to his level.

The army taught me control. The truth is, I could kill him with my two hands.

The last time I saw my father, he was yelling at my mother while defending his recent bimbo. I stared at him with disgust.

“Think you’re better than me, son?” he hissed.

I crossed my arms, my biceps the size of his fucking thighs. All I did was lift a brow.

Then said, “Get out.”

I walk down the hall towards my fate.

My giant fuck up .

I can’t exactly accuse my father of being a failure now that I’ve impregnated a woman out of wedlock. Call me old-fashioned, but...

I never planned to do either of those things. This is not how I saw my life going. Not at all.

You are just like your father.

Jesus Christ.

We used condoms.