Ranger Protector. Angi Morgan

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Ranger Protector - Angi  Morgan

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help it. “I’m a little distracted by the dilemma facing me if anyone finds out I’m harboring a...what? Or is it a who? You aren’t really a criminal. Not yet, anyway. So I can’t call you a fugitive.”

      “Please stop. Just stop.” She covered her eyes with her fingertips and then rubbed her temples. “I can’t think.”

      “This isn’t complicated. Okay, it’s a little complicated. Someone convinced my partner to protect you—” His brain screeched to a halt as realization clicked things in place for his guest. Or prisoner. He could see it going either way.

      She nodded. “Your partner? I thought Therese said they’d worked with you.”

      Jack was cussing a bit in his head. Since joining the Rangers, he’d given up smoking and curbed his four-letter vocabulary to consist of hell. It was much better for his image.

      His partner, on the other hand, didn’t have any reason to hold back and wouldn’t when he found out Megan was wanted for murder. That was, if he checked in anytime soon. Why would he put them in this situation?

      “So what now? How fast should I be ready to go?”

      “I’m not sure. This is a bit unusual.” Jack hated to think that his partner might be in serious trouble for circumventing an arrest. It didn’t make sense. He couldn’t get the sound of gunfire out of his head. And he was certain it had been gunfire.

      “Well, it certainly is for me. I’ve never been in trouble before. For crying out loud, I used to be a cop.” Her arms bounced up and down against her thighs, the sound muffled by his robe.

      “Wade might have a history of jumping in headfirst without checking how deep the water is. But...”

      Megan arched her eyebrows, clearly wanting the rest of the explanation.

      “I’ve never known why or how, but he’s almost always right.” There was no turning back. “The man has a sixth sense about things like this. He said you need protecting, and not twelve hours later you’re being framed for murder.”

      Hell, she was wanted for murder.

      “You can’t keep me here. You’re a Texas Ranger.”

      “Right.” He covered the short space to the door with a couple of strides. He needed to take a minute. Just think of something other than the consequences of going against orders—although he didn’t really have any at the moment.

      “You aren’t seriously thinking about trying to hide me. I don’t want to be hidden. No matter what anyone thinks, I’m the best qualified to discover why someone wants to frame me for murder.”

      He could believe that. If she was an analyst like she claimed, that meant she looked through information and solved problems. She probably had more experience than he did at solving mysteries of this nature.

      He hooked his thumbs in his belt and looked out back across the pasture. Mrs. D. waved as she got in her car. “See you in town, Little Jack.”

      Thoughts were racing through his head faster than he could collect him. If he did this, then that would happen. And if he did that, then this would happen. He pushed through the emotional tug of wanting to please everyone. A physical impossibility. Someone was going to get hurt.

      Or fired. He watched the horses grazing, wishing he’d carried his coffee with him across the room. When all was said and done, he could count on Wade. He already had done so more than once. Bottom line, he should wait before moving forward. Gather more information, but wait.

      “We may not know much about what’s going on, Megan. But there’s one thing you can count on.” He paused, waiting on her to look at him so she’d see his sincerity. “You can trust my partner.”

       Chapter Three

      Megan needed a minute of alone time and she was out of here. She could find a pair of jeans and keep them around her waist with a belt. She’d seen Jack’s keys in the end-table drawer with his ID and weapon. She would have to borrow his truck and hope it wasn’t a stick shift.

      There was a second vehicle inside the garage, but it was marked with the city insignia. It would be just her luck if it had City of Liberty Hill emblazoned on the back window.

      All she needed was a few minutes alone and she could be heading home. Shoot, she was already wanted for murder. What was a little grand theft auto?

      “Shouldn’t you shower before you leave?” she asked, hoping that he’d disappear for a few minutes, then remembering he didn’t have one.

      “I always soak before bed. But thanks for the personal-hygiene tip. Good thing it’s my day off and I don’t have to shave. Follow me.” They went into the bedroom, and he crossed to a stack of T-shirts on top of a dresser. “Here’s a medium. You’re going to need something to wear before we leave for the meeting.”

      She caught the purple shirt that had a gold panther head on it. “Oh, no. I’m not heading to wherever you’re heading. Especially not dressed like a teenager.”

      He’d slept in his jeans—obviously not his best, but it didn’t look like he was changing out of them. Just his white undershirt. She’d seen great ab muscles before, but it didn’t hurt to admire some again. Just as long as he didn’t see her admiring them.

      “Will you feel better if I wear one, too?” he asked, pulling one off the stack and sticking his arms through.

      “No, Jack. It doesn’t make me feel any better at all.” She swiped up the pajama bottoms he’d given her last night that she could pull up to her armpits. She’d chosen to sleep without them.

      It wasn’t her first time to be half-dressed around a man. She’d been a cop. She knew the locker-room jokes and bro code. She also knew she’d have to get out of here the hard way. She waited until he began pulling his head through the T-shirt and tossed hers at him.

      The man had excellent reflexes and caught it. When his hands were occupied, Megan could have sucker punched him. She probably should have sucker punched him. But she didn’t. She ran out of the room, intending to trip him or slam a door in his face.

      He was faster than she’d thought. Faster getting untangled and faster out of the room. He lunged for her and pulled her to her knees before she could reach the front door. He covered her with his long body before she could get her arms out from under her when they’d broken her fall.

      She shoved. He rolled to his back, keeping her on top of him.

      Awkward. But she didn’t stop to dwell on it.

      “Let me go or...”

      “Settle down, Megan. I am not going to hit a girl.”

      Famous last words as she pulled her elbow free and jammed it into his solar plexus. She rolled and sent her fist into the same soft spot. Now Jack couldn’t catch his breath.

      “Good thing I don’t mind hitting boys.”

      He coughed and she yanked the drawer open, grabbing his keys. She ran outside and jumped

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