I know your mom died when you were ten. I know it almost broke your spirit, and your father didn’t know what to do. I know about your cruel bully too. How he made you cry that day on the beach.
But now it’s time for my dick move.
Trust me.
It’ll seal our fate.
Women like their men, all unattainable yet theirs, all aloof except attracted, all dark and dangerous but not deadly unless it’s to unalive their evil ex. I borrow my sister-in-law’s smutty books. They’re like instruction manuals for heteroflexible men.
Lucky for me, most men don’t get it. They mock romance books, so that leaves more women for me. Like shooting fish in a barrel.
But I only want this one.
This one, killing me with that wishful smile, lighting up her face like birthday candles.
“Yeah, well… have a good one, Ranger.” I nod toward her uniform. Turning back to the counter, I call over my shoulder, “Slurpee’s on me.”
My heart clenches, knowing I just left Alena standing there. All happy and vulnerable and like what the fuck?
This was our meet-cute.
She just doesn’t know it yet.
I’m about to move in next door to her. I’m about to shadow her every move, pretending to be her colleague, maybe even her trusted friend, while I’ll be guarding her shoulder and looking over my own for threats.
Alena faces more dangers than the black bears up here.
She has no idea she’s more than a forest ranger, hiding in plain sight.
She’s the daughter of a ruthless mafia king. The first princess in my family. She’s not related to me, but she’s bound to us, in a secret society who protect her as ours. She believes her father’s random friends are harmless, not secret vigilantes avenging our Bratva father’s crimes, making her a prime target for revenge.
And I have no idea how I’m going to be her secret bodyguard, as her father has insisted, without anyone knowing that every time I close my eyes—in bed, online, at the beach, or in a gas station—I see her.
I want her.
I’m in love with Alena Allen.
For now, I hear the keys on the carabiner hooked to her utility belt jangle as she silently walks behind me, leaving through the glass doors.
Slapping a fifty down, I tell Jesse, “Thanks, man. Good performance with those cups.”
“Look, man,” Jesse warns, swiping up the Grant, “fucking with a ranger can get you killed around here.”
“Yeah, I know.” I turn my hat back around, revealing the Forest Service emblem. I reach, grabbing the Slurpee, my T-shirt lifting to reveal my hidden gun. “I’m a ranger too.”
CHAPTER TWO
ALENA
Nine soaringhairpin turns on a narrow road squeeze me and my truck between a mammoth mountainside on my left and a plunge to my death on the right.
I should focus.
Usually, I focus.
I’m not from around here, and I’m still getting used to this hand-sweating, gravity-defying drive.
But I can’t focus. All I can think about as my truck climbs the mountain ishim.
