Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 43422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 217(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 217(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
After college, I became more comfortable. Yet never truly so.
Not until last night. Now I feel truly comfortable in my own skin. As if no part of my physical body is an enemy anymore—and as if there’s nothing within myself that I need to fight.
And I didn’t realize how exhausting battling myself was. Until now, when I’m not doing it anymore.
I make a few more runs between the farmhouse and town, keeping an eye on the smoke in the distance, a yellow cloud so thick that the sun is just an orange dot. They’re evacuating residences farther down the highway, and trucks loaded up with household belongings are creating a logjam of traffic on the main street.
As I reach home, my phone rings. Maria—who was supposed to be leaving on her camping trip today. Unless they cancelled.
I hit the speaker. “Hey! Are you—”
“Oh my god. Alicia, thank god.” The panic in her voice freezes my gut. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of anyone but the circuits are busy. So don’t hang up.”
“I won’t hang up. What’s going on?”
“We left early this morning, heading up to Cougar Ridge. We didn’t realize… Oh god. Until the smoke. And then the sparks flying everywhere. We’ve been trying to drive out, but there’s a tree on fire across the access road and we can’t get the camper around it. And everything behind us is burning and the smoke isn’t too bad inside the camper yet and—” She stops herself as hysteria begins rising through her voice. I hear her take a deep, shuddering breath, then say more calmly, “The kids are really scared, Alicia. Can you contact Samantha? Tell her we’re stuck out here?”
“I will.” Cougar Ridge. My gaze swings out to the hills behind my house, shrouded in thick smoke. Maria’s only a few miles from here. “I have to hang up, but I swear to you—help is coming. Okay?”
“Okay.” Her voice trembles and rips up my heart. “And just in case…I love you.”
“I love you, too. But help’s on the way. So just hang tight.”
Heart thundering, I disconnect and try the emergency number. Then Sam’s phone. Then Ranger. All circuits busy.
Shit shit shit. I look out at the hills, then think about how fast my beast’s form was all the times I went looking for Ranger. A second later, I type out a message to him.
Alicia: Maria’s trapped on Cougar Ridge. I can’t get through to anyone. I’m heading out there. I love you.
I’m pulling off my shoes when my phone chimes with a message notification.
Ranger: Text me when you’re done. I love you, baby.
Ranger: Also just got word of two hikers up on that ridge. I’ll tell them a search and rescue is on the way.
As if he doesn’t have a single doubt that I can accomplish it, and that I’ll be safe. I grin and shove my shorts down my legs. Now I’m only wearing one of Ranger’s giant shirts. And the transformation into my beast’s form is almost like breathing—so smooth, so easy, so natural.
Just like loving a man with sparks in his eyes and charcoal in his voice.
* * *
Two nights later, I’m in the farmhouse kitchen, sharing a block of Neapolitan ice cream with Samantha when Ranger comes through the door—and heads straight for me.
“You’re so damn brave, baby,” he growls softly.
I leap into his arms, my mouth finding his. He smells like smoke, and soot smudges every visible inch of his skin. Only two hours ago, I looked and smelled the same. Now the fire’s mostly contained. Not out yet. But not spreading.
And Ranger’s finally home again.
Dimly I hear Brandon tell Samantha, “Rumor is, there’s a Bigfoot running around, tossing burning logs off the road and rescuing people.”
“But she has little feet,” my sister says.
“Probably not so little when she’s seven feet tall— Hold up. Why is there only vanilla left? And how the hell did you two dig out the chocolate and strawberry all the way down on either side?”
“With grit and determination,” Sam tells him.
When I laugh at that answer, Ranger grins against my lips. “You had the chocolate?”
Because he can smell it on me. Taste it on me. “I did.”
My sister licks the last of the strawberry from her spoon. “Mom used to be the vanilla.”
“Then I guess I’m the mama bear now.” Brandon hauls out the chair beside her, then steals her spoon. “You want some of this, brother?”
Ranger doesn’t answer, just begins carrying me toward the stairs—the sparks in his eyes telling me he’s hungry for something else. He has my panties torn away by the third stair, his belt and pants unfastened by the top.
But he comes to an abrupt halt just inside my bedroom. And I’d forgotten how empty it is. The bed’s still here, but almost everything personal of mine is gone.