Ranger was lounging against my kitchen counter. Arms crossed over his chest. Watching me strip down to my sports bra and stretchy bikinis.
“It’s been a while,” Ranger said. “I’ve missed you.”
Ranger and I have had our moments in the past. It’s not like this was the first time he’s seen me in my undies. Or for that matter without them. And it’s not as if my sports bra and bikinis were all that revealing. Not any more revealing than my swimsuit. Maybe less. It was that Ranger emits a sexual pull that is hard to ignore. He enters my field of vision and I get a rush. If I’m at arm’s length and close enough to get a hint of his shower gel or feel his body heat, I’m in serious danger of turning into a slut. I want him. Bad. And that’s not good since Ranger is an opportunist, and I have an awesome boyfriend who doesn’t look kindly on sharing me. Yet another indication that my life isn’t on track.
“As you can see, I’m perfectly okay,” I said to Ranger. “I just need to wash the bingo hall water out of my hair, and I’ll be good as new.”
“We need to talk,” Ranger said. “We can talk while you shower.”
Oh boy. Ranger watching me in the shower. Just the thought gave me heart arrhythmia and a massive dose of Catholic guilt. I’d pretty much lost my blind faith, but the guilt was still strong.
“That doesn’t work for me,” I said. “We can talk after I shower.”
Ranger checked his watch. “As long as you don’t take the hour shower. I have paperwork stacked up at Rangeman. I’ve been out all day.”
Yay for me. The no-ch
eating stars must be in alignment. I took a fast shower, toweled off, and ran a comb through my hair. I wrapped a towel around myself and stepped out of the bathroom and into my bedroom. Ranger was sitting on the bed, checking his mail on his phone. He looked up and smiled at me.
“Babe,” Ranger said.
This time it was easy to guess what Babe implied. His voice was soft. His gaze traveled the length of me and settled on the towel.
“No,” I said. “Don’t even think about it.”
“Hard not to think about it when you’re in front of me in a towel.”
“I just took a shower! What did you expect?”
“I was hoping for naked.”
“And I was hoping you’d wait in my living room.”
“I tried that,” Ranger said. “Your couch is covered in dog hair.”
I ratcheted up my grip on the towel. “Bob is a shedder.”
“Babe,” Ranger said, “your knuckles are turning white, and I’m running out of time. Here’s the short version. The two errand boys who tried to get you into the Cadillac work for Benny the Skootch. He’s got his name on a La-Z-Boy at the Mole Hole, and I’m guessing he wants to talk to you about Grandma and the missing keys. You know about the keys, right?”
“Only that they’re missing.”
“I don’t know much more than that, but I know if the keys don’t turn up soon, things are going to get messy. These Mole Hole guys are old-school. They do things the old-fashioned way.”
“Broken bones and blood everywhere?”
“Yes. I don’t want it to be your blood, so try not to lose your Rangeman escort. And talk to Grandma about the keys. Make sure she doesn’t have them.”
His cellphone buzzed, and he looked at the screen. “I have to go.” He pulled a packet out of a pocket on his cargo pants and tossed it onto my bed. “Be careful.”
“What’s in the package?”
“Ammo. Get your gun out of the cookie jar.”
I watched him leave the room, and I heard the front door click closed. I was sort of disappointed that he hadn’t ripped the towel off me. There are times when Ranger doesn’t pay total attention to no. It might not have been so bad if this was one of those times, being that I was in a state.
I opened the towel and looked down at myself. I didn’t have big boobs like Lula, but mine were sort of perky. I had a flat stomach and a nice, neat landing strip below that. Legs were okay. I needed a pedicure. Not bad since lately I’d put in minimal effort. Good thing I wasn’t actually fifty-six. I imagined I’d be a wreck by then.
CHAPTER FIVE