Resurrection River: Men of Mercy, Book 2 Page 3

  By the time he parked in front of the tan metal building, sweat dripped down his naked back and soaked his seat.

  Ranger jumped out, not bothering to dress. She’d put him in this state. She could deal. He stomped through the open hangar door, bare-foot and half-naked, with every intention of cuttin’ loose on the woman who haunted his daydreams.

  Ranger entered the airplane hangar and crossed the concrete floor tattooed with oil stains. A small breeze swirled dust and stirred up the summer heat. A heat matched by his boiling temper and simmering blood.

  The source of his frustration climbed a ladder to the nose of the airplane, popped the hood and stuck her head down into the engine compartment. Ranger stopped, his visual field shrinking to one perfectly rounded ass in serious need of a spanking.

  Amy kicked a booted foot into the air. Metal clanked on metal and a wrench flew over her shoulder at Ranger’s feet. “Come on, baby. Come on. I’m sorry I pushed you so hard. I shouldn’t expect so much out of you.” Amy’s voice echoed, her head and torso hidden in the open nose of the small plane.

  “Please, I promise I’ll never do that again if you just give me another chance,” she pleaded with the archaic plane like it could do anything but fall apart.

  Ranger’s mouth went dry like he’d swallowed every dust particle in the air. Her curves baited him, drew him in. Dazed, he walked forward, his anger merging with lust.

  Something banged, she jerked, and then a panel from the belly of the plane clanged to the ground. “Please don’t do this.” Amy pushed up out of the plane and climbed down the ladder. Her gasp when she saw the missing panel filled up the entire hangar.

  Ranger smiled, crossed his arms over his chest, enjoying her distress. She deserved it for her stunt. And for the months of frustration she’d put him through. If he had his prayers answered, her Amelia-Earhart-era-airplane would never fly again.

  But then she leaned her head sideways and rested it on the side of the plane. Her eyes drifted shut and the look of utter hopelessness filled her features.

  His anger melted. “You know, beating the engine with a wrench isn’t a good way to get it to work.”

  Amy spun around, the yellow airplane a perfect backdrop to her beautiful face. “What are you doing here?”

  Ranger let his gaze travel from her scruffy boots, torn jeans and gloriously figure hugging tank, to the top of her dark red head. Her pink cheeks flushed.

  “Like what you see?”

  Ranger approached, her dark brown gaze turned wary. Good. She should be worried. She’d doused him in chemicals. His skin still itched. He reached forward, plucked an oil stick from her ponytail and sent her hair spilling to her shoulders. He caught the brief scent of flowers and oil.

  Amy grabbed her hair, lips parted. Angry. Stubborn. Sexy.

  He held up the stick right in front of her face. “Oil stick.”

  Amy snatched it from his fingers and tossed it across the room. “I told you to stay away from me.”

  Ranger shrugged, his brain still caught on the image of her jean-clad ass hanging out of that airplane. Forget Sports Illustrated. He had farm fucking fantastic right here.

  “Don’t you think dropping that all-natural excuse for chemicals on me is a bit dramatic? If you want to get me naked all you had to do is ask.” Ranger gestured to himself, sweeping his hand from his head down to his torso, Amy’s eyes followed.

  That definitely wasn’t desperation or anger in her gaze.

  The desire he’d been trying to hold in check for months reared up inside him.

  “You think I want to see you naked?” Amy snorted, lifted her chin. “Besides, I figured anything would be an improvement to your normal smell.” So much for her vulnerability.

  The wind picked up, blew into the hangar. Ranger shifted, praying the wind wouldn’t open the fly on his boxers, and almost covered himself. Almost. Until he remembered she was the reason for his stench. Instead, he stood tall. “You’ve never had a problem with the way I smelled before.”

  “My manners were just too good to say anything.” She strode past him, punishing him with the sexy sway of her hips.

  Dammit, he was so hard up for her, even her walk had his mind blanking. He stood there, nearly naked, and drenched in herbicide, and she walked past him like a stranger on a sidewalk.

  Running from him. Again.

  “Amy Ann.” He didn’t yell, but she stopped mid-stride. Turned. Lips parted.

  “You did that on purpose,” Ranger said. She’d been hard headed even in high school, when he tried to break up with her, explaining that he needed a little space to see if life in Mercy was what he really wanted. Jumping on the marriage and kids bandwagon at eighteen years old had scared the shit out of him. But he’d obliterated any chance for reconnecting with Amy when she’d seen him making out with Tonya at the football game senior year.

  He hadn’t thought that leaving her to sow the wild oats of his youth would be a self-fulfilling prophecy of regret. Or that his best friend would move in on Amy so fast and fill the void that Ranger had left in her heart.

  “You bet your ass I did.”

  “What the hell for?” He couldn’t get her smell, her taste, her touch out of his head. But she’d dumped shit on him for the last time.

  Her eyes narrowed and her lips flattened. “I warned you.”

  Yeah, she’d warned him to stay away from her. He’d stayed with her for weeks, helping her after the funeral. She’d healed physically, but remained an emotional tomb.

  “I promised Shane, if anything ever happened to him, I’d look out for you.” He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss that angry expression right off her face. He’d wanted her since high school, but when she’d married Shane, he’d vowed to put those feelings away. Forever. But the attraction hadn’t disappeared. And he knew it never would. “I know the chemistry between us is weird. Scary. But dammit it’s real and it’s here and now. You’re just flying through the clouds because you don’t want to see what’s on the ground right in front of you.”

  If he hadn’t been studying every minute expression on her face he would have missed the brief flash of vulnerability in her gaze. Then her anger slid back in place. “The only thing I feel is annoyance. Are you so desperate that you have to chase after what you can’t have? You dumped me first, remember?”

  Him? Desperate? No. He’d never had a problem getting women. Until Amy.

  If he hadn’t been so young and stupid he would have been the one she’d married. Not Shane.

  Now all he could think, all he could see, was the small sprinkle of freckles across her pert nose. He could be on a mission in a third world country or down the road. It didn’t matter. She affected him.

  He had an all-consuming need for his best friend’s wife. He hadn’t counted on lust eating him alive.

  But he had honor. He had loyalty. Ranger had vowed over Shane’s grave to take care of Amy. “Do you have a death wish?”

  “A what?”

  “You could have tangled in those electric wires today. You touched the goddamn treetops. Are you trying to commit suicide by plane and join Shane in the ground?”

  Fury flashed across her gaze. Fury and something else. Something like pain and fear. “How I do my business is none of your business.”

  “It is my business if you’re endangering yourself.” He ground the words through clenched teeth.

  “No. It’s not. It used to be Shane’s business. But he’s dead.” Her voice rose with each word and cracked on the last.

  “Shane may be dead, but you’re not. Chloe’s not.” Ranger moved closer, took her hand and placed it on his chest. “I’m here, Amy. I’m standing right in front of you. Can you not see me? Feel me?”

  Her breathing increased, sharp, short and fast. She wasn’t immune to him, he knew it in his bones. He just had to convince her.

  He held her gaze and stepped closer. Her eyes widened a fraction. Satisfaction rolled through him. She wanted him. He could see it
in the parting of her lips, the pulse racing at the hollow of her throat. “You’re scared. Admit it.”

  Unable to help himself, Ranger pulled her to him. The air around them sparked. If they stood any closer to the gas tank, the whole place would go up in flames.

  “Afraid? Of you?” Her voice was breathy.

  “Yes. You’re afraid of me.”

  She shook her head. “No. I’m not afraid of you. I’m afraid of losing my business. My farm. My respect in this town.”

  “There’s no way I’d ever disrespect you. I’m not looking for a one night stand.” Ranger cupped her cheek, his gaze drawn to her plump lips, surprised at the tremble he saw there. “I want all of you.”

  He spoke slow, careful not to scare her away. But his heart pounded so fast he was afraid it would punch out of his chest. He had gone too long without tasting those lips.

  “You can’t stop people from gossiping. And even if most don’t say anything, my mother-in-law will eviscerate me. I’ll be ruined,” Amy said.

  He wanted to squeeze her, tell her everything would be fine. He’d shut the mother-in-law’s mouth, permanently, if he had to. He wanted Amy enough to sacrifice everything. But he couldn’t stand the fear in her gaze. “You aren’t married anymore. You are free to date whoever you want.” Free to be with me.

  Amy grabbed his hand, turned into his palm and kissed him there. That small touch shooting electric currents straight to his chest. “But I’m not free. Not yet.”

  He lowered his head, his need for her overtaking every other cell in his brain. Amy. Her smile. Her laugh. Her heart.

  “Let me go.”

  “Never. Someone’s got to put a stop to this. To you being so scared of the townspeople that you risk death in that crop duster, instead of facing what you really want.”

  “Scared? When Rand Carter owns Mercy Chemical? You think Mavis will let her new husband continue to supply my business if she finds out about us?”

  Ranger was beginning to hate hearing the name Mavis. The woman was pure evil. And she had an undeniable power position in Mercy. She all but controlled the congregation at the First Baptist Church. She basically owned her group of gossip cronies. Now that she had a hand in Mercy Chemical, she could manipulate her daughter-in-law.

  But Ranger could take care of Amy and Chloe. “You have to stop before you get hurt.”

  “The only person that had the right to tell me what to do was my husband. Not you. I didn’t choose you.” Amy’s voice dropped low, but her words burned into his chest with the accuracy of a sniper’s bullet.

  “You’re right. I might not have ever had the right, but I promised Shane I would look after you.” He would make her understand, even if he had to turn her over his knee. He tangled a hand in her hair, tilted her face to his. “I’ve already lost one Carter. And I’ll be damned if I lose another.”

  Ranger captured her mouth in a kiss meant to dominate. She filled his senses. He slanted his mouth over hers, thrusting his tongue deep, forcing her to respond to his kiss. He couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t stay away. She was his everything. His hope. And she was going to quit endangering herself, even if he had to chain her to his bed.

  She whimpered, the small sound breaking into his insanity. He became aware of her nails digging into his flesh. Her shaking. Guilt gut punched him.

  He had to stop, to break free of this…madness.

  Ranger eased up, pulled back, but before he could separate from her, she wrapped her hands around his neck. Her tongue met his, and he was lost.

  4

  Chapter 4

  Amy relinquished control. She couldn’t think. Couldn’t find her anger. Her logic. Not when Ranger held her like this.

  The loneliness she refused to admit to anyone, even herself, urged her onward. This was what she needed. This volcanic explosion of lust.

  Ranger trailed kisses across her cheek, down her neck. She really shouldn’t be kissing him. Touching him. If anyone found out…

  Ranger bit down on her neck, drew her skin into his mouth. She gasped, grabbed his shoulders for support. Nothing about the man was soft. His corded muscles felt like satin encased steel.

  His hands fell to her bottom, lifted and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He walked them backwards, propped her inside the cockpit of her plane and continued his onslaught.

  Amy couldn’t be still any more. Her hands roamed across his wide shoulders, down his biceps, exploring his hard muscular chest. Ranger used his teeth to tug the strap of her tank to the side and expose her breast. She held him close. The possibility of a tarnished reputation becoming more of an absent thought than a life or death decision.

  When he sucked a nipple into his hot mouth, she arched, cried out. He stripped her defenses. Exposed her. He pulled her other strap down and continued to torture her sensitive skin. She didn’t try to stop him. She couldn’t.

  Heat flooded her thighs, her body a burning mass of need. The entire town could walk in right now and she wouldn’t care. By the time his lips returned to hers, Amy was out of breath and ready to climb on top.

  Her hand shot south between them, straight into his boxers and wrapped around his hard length. His girth so big her fingers didn’t touch. She found the moisture beading his tip and he groaned, bucking forward into her palm. A heady sense of power heightened her arousal and she squeezed him harder, wanting to make him lose control.

  He growled, the deep rumble of his chest vibrating through her entire body, and ripped open the button on her blue jeans. “You feel so fucking good.” His words were dark and desperate.

  “Yes.” Amy thumbed his tip again. He sucked her nipple deep, bit down.

  “No, Signor. No, I cannot do this.” A man’s voice broke through their silent struggle to rip each other’s clothes off. Amy froze.

  Another man’s voice, this one more guttural, spoke in a fast stream of Spanish, his anger evident despite the fact she couldn’t understand a single word of the foreign language.

  “No. Please, I beg you.” Pedro. That was Pedro’s voice begging the other man. In her hangar. And she was half naked with Ranger between her legs.

  Oh no. Amy shoved Ranger away so quickly she nearly fell out of the cockpit. Ranger turned, caged her behind him. She pushed against him, but she might as well have been pushing a hundred year old oak tree.

  “Move.” She kept her voice low, almost to a whisper, silently praying the other men wouldn’t see them.

  “Quiet.” Ranger held a finger to his lips.

  The Spanish stranger spoke again. Amy heard a thump then Pedro answered in Spanish, their speech patterns the only way she could tell them apart. The men were on the other side of the plane.

  Rangers ice blue gaze slammed into hers. “We’re not finished.”

  Amy wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, as if she could wipe away the memory of his touch. As if his taste wasn’t permanently imprinted on her lips. Her hand trembled and she shoved it in her back pocket before he noticed the betraying movement. “Yes, we are. You took advantage of me.”

  Had she thought his gaze was hot before? The look of pure menace filling his features caused her to take a step back. He placed a hand on either side of her head, pinning her between him and the plane. His voice was low, but it impacted her just the same. “I didn’t make you shove your hands in my pants.”

  The breath leeched from her lungs. He was right. She couldn’t think straight when he got within a half mile. Where was her control? “I didn’t ask you to come here. I didn’t ask for any of this.”

  Ranger’s smile disappeared and he slammed a palm flat against her plane. Metal rattled, the entire plane shook beneath his attack. Another screw broke free and clanged to the floor.

  “You broke my plane.”

  He slapped her plane again. “You can’t break a rust bucket. This piece of shit is barely holding together.” As if to emphasize his point, another piece of her precious plane fell to the ground. The crash seemed louder. Fina
l.

  She didn’t even turn to see what broke. “This pile of garbage puts food on the table.”

  “Why can’t you do something safe? Wait tables full-time instead of just on the weekends? Get a job as a secretary? That puts food on the table. Hell, if you would let me, I would put food on your table.”

  “What, now were going caveman?” She thumped a fist on her chest. “Me caveman, you woman.”

  Ranger’s face turned red. “Damn you hard headed woman. Just because I want to take care of you doesn’t make me a Neanderthal.”

  She rose up on her toes, nose to nose with him. “No, it just makes you an overbearing chauvinist. In case you missed the past, oh I don’t know, fifty years or so, women can make a living any way they want.”

  “Miss Amy?” Pedro walked around the plane, a short stocky man she didn’t recognize right behind him.

  Amy shoved past Ranger, needing to put as much physical distance between them as possible and cover her embarrassment at being caught. “Pedro, who’s your friend?”

  Pedro’s gaze dropped, the brim of his faded red baseball hat hiding his eyes. ““No one, signora. He leave.”

  “No hurry, amigo. Introduce me to your boss lady.” The man walked forward, held out his hand. “I am Santos.”

  Amy moved to extend hers, and hesitated. Pedro’s fear snaked across the empty space between them, wrapping around her. Warning her.

  Hostility rolled off Ranger with all the subtlety of a tidal wave and Amy’s stomach knotted. She trusted Pedro, as much as she would a brother. And although Ranger drove her crazy, she trusted him too. She pulled her hand back at the last minute and let it fall to her side.

  Santos dropped his hand, but his dark eyes traveled the length of her body, the lewd look filled her with repulsion. “Be careful, you don’t want to piss me off.”

  Before Amy could react, Ranger pushed her behind him. His wide stance completely blocking Santos. “Care to repeat that?”

  She swallowed, sensing the raw power barely contained inside.

  “I see the señorita means much to you. You should be careful with the things you love. They are precious. And easily broken.”