The Ranger's Rodeo Rebel. Pamela Britton
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didn’t know why she felt self-conscious as she touched the cat-shaped weapon, but she did. She set it down, unable to resist digging into her breakfast. But as she lifted her fork, she suddenly took great care not to get any on her lips because for some reason she felt terribly exposed.
“I can’t afford both, I’m sure,” she said, making sure she didn’t chew with her mouth open or something.
“You don’t have to pay for them. They’re gifts. From me.”
“I can’t accept them.”
He was busy gobbling down his own breakfast. “Sure you can,” he said between swallows. “I get all this stuff at cost. Part of my new job. I’ll be outfitting my clients with these types of weapons.”
She lifted the bacon to her lips, spotted him watching her again, and her cheeks heated up. Why was he staring at her? She took a bite and then set the bacon down, even though she just about groaned at how good it tasted. Golly, the man could heat up a room with the look in his eyes.
“Still,” she said. “I don’t want to take advantage. Even at cost, I doubt I could afford any of it.”
He didn’t say anything, and when she finally got the nerve to look up at him, she noticed the most bizarre expression on his face.
“What?” she asked.
He rubbed his chin. “Ah. Yeah. Like I said. I’ll take care of it. You can pay me back slowly if you want.”
“Chance—”
“No arguments,” he interrupted. “This is your safety we’re talking about. You need to be prepared.”
She couldn’t argue that point, so she continued eating her breakfast, feeling his gaze upon her all over again. Man, she wished he’d stop watching her.
“Thank you,” she said once she finished.
“You’re welcome,” he said, shooting up suddenly with his plate in hand.
“I’ll wash that.”
“No. That’s okay. I’ve got it. Here. Give me yours.”
She handed him the empty plate. He hurried to the sink and, sure enough, washed her dishes for her. As she sat in her chair, she stared at the weapons and wondered why she’d never been able to find a man like Chance. Just her luck he was leaving for the Middle East in a short while. And that he was her boss’s brother. And that he knew about James and so probably had a low opinion of her life choices. So if that was a spark of attraction in his eyes, she knew he’d never act on it.
“Thanks,” she said, standing.
He grabbed a rag and dried his hands, but when he met her gaze, he seemed to freeze.
“I mean it, Chance. You’ve really taken a load off my mind. I’d been thinking about getting some pepper spray. Now I don’t have to worry. And if I get in a bind, I have Ninja Kitty to poke James’s eyes out with.”
He didn’t say anything, but then seemed to nudge himself back to life, tossing the towel he held to the counter. “Protecting people is my job.”
Something about the way he said the words made her tilt her head. He seemed upset, as if he were disappointed in something...maybe her?
“I should get going,” he said, moving past her.
“Chance, wait.”
It was one of those moments when you call someone back and you don’t know why. When you know you want to say something, but you don’t know what. When words form, only to be immediately discarded. She’d already thanked him.
“I’ll ask Colt to take what I owe you out of my next paycheck.”
He nodded. “Whatever.” He slipped out the door.
What had she done? Something had definitely soured his mood. He couldn’t get away from her fast enough. Only after he left did she realize he’d left all his weapons behind.
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