Chapter 9

Ranger

The sun hangs low on the horizon as we leave the diner behind, its orange and pink glow painting the sky like a masterpiece. The air has cooled, the heat of the day fading into something softer, gentler. Tory’s hand is still in mine, and for once, I don’t let go. I tell myself it’s because I want to keep her close, that I’m just doing my job, but I know the truth.

I like this. I like her hand in mine, her warmth tethering me to the moment, to her.

Neither of us says much as we make our way back along the beach path, the sound of the waves filling the silence like a quiet lullaby. It’s the kind of calm that gets inside you, makes you feel peaceful even when your mind is a mess.

I glance down at her as we walk. She’s looking straight ahead, her lips curved into the smallest of smiles. She’s wearing that simple white sundress she picked for today, and her hair is loose, dancing in the breeze like golden silk. I don’t know how she does it—how she makes everything around her seem softer, brighter—just by existing.

As we near the house, she slows down and tugs lightly on my hand. “Can we stop for a minute?”

I nod, following her lead as she veers toward the beach. We step off the boardwalk and onto the cool, packed sand. The ocean stretches out before us, endless and dark now, the last slivers of daylight glinting off the waves.

We stand side by side, close enough that her shoulder brushes mine, and stare out at the water. The wind tugs at her hair, carrying the salty scent of the sea, and I close my eyes for a moment, taking it in.

“It’s beautiful,” she murmurs, breaking the silence.

“It is.” I open my eyes and look at her instead of the water, because no view could ever compete with the one beside me. “Peaceful.”

She sighs softly, wrapping her arms around herself, though I’m not sure if it’s the chill or the weight of something on her mind. “Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever find peace like this.”

Her words catch me off guard, and I tilt my head toward her. “What do you mean?”

She glances up at me, those blue eyes of hers deep and reflective, like she’s looking straight into my soul. “It’s hard to explain,” she says softly. “Growing up with my dad, it was always about work. Research. Innovation. My life was science, but it never felt like mine . I’ve spent so long trying to be someone he can be proud of, I don’t even know what it means to be proud of myself .”

Her voice cracks slightly on the last word, and something in my chest tightens.

“I don’t think he realizes it,” she continues, staring back at the waves. “He doesn’t mean to… I don’t know… overshadow me. But sometimes it feels like I don’t exist outside of his world.”

I don’t know what to say at first. I’ve never met anyone like Tory—someone so brilliant and full of life, yet so unsure of her place in the world. I take a breath and let my words come naturally.

“You’re wrong, you know,” I say, my voice steady.

She looks up at me, surprised. “What?”

“You do exist outside of him. Outside of anyone.” I hold her gaze, wanting her to hear me—really hear me. “Your father might be proud of you, and he should be, but you’re more than his shadow. You’re… you . You’re smart. Kind. Talented.” I gesture toward the delicate bracelet she’s wearing, one I watched her finish yesterday. “You take little pieces of the world and turn them into something beautiful. That’s not something anyone can teach. That’s you.”

Her lips part, and for a moment, she doesn’t say anything. A faint blush creeps up her cheeks, and she hugs her arms tighter to herself. “I don’t know if anyone’s ever said something like that to me.”

“Well, it’s true,” I reply simply. “You just need to see it for yourself.”

She smiles faintly, like she doesn’t quite believe me but wants to. “What about you?” she asks, turning the question on me. “What makes you proud of yourself?”

The question surprises me, and I shift slightly, shoving my hands into my pockets. “I don’t know,” I admit. “I’ve spent so much time protecting other people, I’ve never really thought about myself. As long as the job’s done and they’re safe, that’s enough for me.”

“That’s not enough,” she says quietly, her voice soft but firm. “You deserve more than that.”

I look at her, this woman who’s known me for such a short time yet somehow sees straight through me. Her words linger, sinking into parts of me I didn’t know were hollow.

“Maybe,” I murmur.

She steps closer, her shoulder brushing against mine again, and her voice drops to a whisper. “You’re more than just a protector, Ranger.”

Her words settle over me like a weight, and for the first time in a long time, I don’t feel empty.

We stand there for a while longer, neither of us speaking, just listening to the waves crash and the breeze sweep through the quiet night. Finally, she sighs and glances toward the house. “I should call my dad. He’ll worry if I don’t check in.”

“Go ahead,” I say softly, stepping aside so she can head inside. “I’ll wait out here.”

She hesitates, her gaze lingering on me like she wants to say something more, but then she nods. “I’ll be quick.”

I watch her disappear up the wooden stairs and into the house, the glow of the interior lights spilling out onto the beach.

I lean against the railing of the lanai, my eyes fixed on the dark horizon as I wait for her to finish. The conversation we just had replays in my head, every word, every glance, every breath.

I’ve spent my life believing that attachments are dangerous—that they make you vulnerable. But Tory isn’t a weakness. She’s a light. And for the first time, I find myself wanting something more. Something real.

The screen door creaks open behind me, and I turn to see her stepping out onto the lanai. Her hair is slightly windblown, her glasses perched low on her nose, and she looks softer somehow.

“Everything okay?” I ask, my voice low.

She nods, smiling faintly. “Yeah. My dad’s fine. He’s still working, as usual.”

I push off the railing and take a step toward her. “Good.”

She stops a few feet in front of me, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her sundress. “Thank you for earlier,” she says quietly, her eyes lifting to meet mine. “For saying what you did.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” I reply, stepping closer until there’s barely any space between us. “I just told you the truth.”

She looks up at me, her blue eyes shining in the dim light, and I know I’m done for. I reach out, cupping her chin gently in my hand, tilting her face up toward mine.

“Ranger…” she whispers, her voice unsure but her gaze steady.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” I admit, my voice rough. “You’ve been in my head since the moment I saw you.”

She swallows hard, her lips parting slightly as her breath hitches.

I don’t wait. I close the space between us, brushing my lips against hers softly at first, testing. Her response is immediate—her hands come up, grabbing the front of my shirt, pulling me closer. I deepen the kiss, tilting my head as her mouth opens for me, and the world falls away.

She tastes like sugar and salt, sweet and wild, and I lose myself completely. My hands slide around her waist, holding her tightly against me, needing to feel her, to know she’s real. Her fingers grip my shirt like she’s afraid I’ll disappear, and I kiss her harder, pouring every unspoken word, every buried emotion into her.

When we finally break apart, we’re both breathless, our foreheads pressed together.

“Ranger,” she whispers, her voice trembling.

I slide my thumb over her cheek, my heart pounding harder than it ever has. “I don’t know what this is, Tory,” I murmur, “but I know I don’t want it to end.”

She looks up at me, her eyes full of something I can’t name but desperately want to hold onto.

“Me either,” she says softly.

I smile faintly, pressing a kiss to her forehead before pulling her into my arms. And for the first time in my life, I feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.