Once A Ranger

“No problem.”

See, I’m flexible. I can adapt to not being in charge.

He could almost hear his ex-wife, Corrine, refuting that statement in counseling, where she’d made him sound about as warm and cuddly as Attila the Hun.

“He treats me like one of his rookie officers. As if I should accept his word as the ultimate authority on everything. Having him home all the time during his…career transition…has been eye-opening.”

Apparently so eye-opening that she’d asked him for a divorce after a few short sessions. No, not asked. Demanded. As if she couldn’t stand to be with him one more second. Yet she still called to chat with him or ask for tips on fixing something around the house. He would never understand women. Maybe that was why he hesitated to jump back into the dating scene.

“Excuse me.”

He turned to see a redhead waiting expectantly. She was medium height, her turquoise tank top revealing toned arms and plenty of cleavage. A purple skirt of lightweight crinkly fabric covered her from hips to calves.

Her eyes narrowed and he realized he was staring.

“My seat’s back there.” She gestured behind him, silver bangles jangling on her wrist. “I need to get by.”

“Sure.” He stepped to the side, wondering if he should help her maneuver around the bench. Judging from her stiff posture, he figured probably not.

Two older ladies were already seated at the table. Heads together, they whispered to each other, nodding toward the door, where a distinguished gentleman with silver hair had entered.

So far, no sign of Sterling.

Tony took his seat opposite the two women and next to the redhead. He hated having his back to the room, but didn’t want to draw attention to himself by changing seats.

“Hello, ladies. I’m Tony.”

“Lorraine and Lola,” the one in blue said.

“We’re twins,” the woman in orange said. “Fraternal.” As if that explained everything.

“Nice to meet you.” He turned to the redhead, extending his hand.

She ignored it. “You’re Tony. I heard.”

He raised an eyebrow at her clipped tone. If she thought he’d been ogling her earlier, she was wrong. His ex-wife was tall, thin and blond; his taste hadn’t changed much over the years. He preferred understated women, and the redhead dressed to draw attention. “According to Linda, we’re supposed to be one big happy family. And your name is?”

“Kat.”

“Short for Katrina?” The exotic name suited her.

“Kathleen.”

“Irish?”

She rolled her eyes. “Mmm-hmm.”

Then she turned her shoulder to him as the older guy sat on the other side of her. She extended her hand, her voice warm. “Hi, I’m Kat.”

Shrugging off the snub, Tony glanced around. The driver’s license photo he had of Sterling wasn’t good quality and showed an average-looking man in his mid-thirties—thirty-six if the date of birth was to be believed. Though Tony had seen more than a few average-looking guys in the right age range at the small resort, none of them appeared to be Sterling. What if he’d already departed? Decided some larger resort provided better pickings? Or worse yet, Phoenix Rising was merely a diversion to throw someone like Tony off track, while Sterling went on to his true destination?

Wherever the man was, Tony would find him. He would track Sterling’s credit card purchases as long as it took, to see where the guy holed up.

Linda approached the table. “We’re waiting for three more members of your group. Please relax and take this time to get to know one another until they arrive.”

Tony glanced down the table toward the three unoccupied seats. Two cards, side by side, were decorated with wedding bells. Troy and Angie Birmingham. Unfortunately, the angle was wrong on the lone place card and Tony couldn’t read it without being obvious.

He resigned himself to more waiting. Not his strong suit.

KAT WAS ACUTELY AWARE of Tony sitting next to her. It wasn’t simply the fact that his arm occasionally brushed hers, or the accompanying sizzle. There was something commanding and dangerous about the man. She sensed a leashed energy, as if he was waiting for something to happen. A focused energy that reminded her of the red-tailed hawk, waiting to swoop in on a tasty morsel.

There was no way Kat would allow herself to be any man’s tasty morsel. At least not until she figured out how to avoid picking jerks. And judging from Tony’s earlier fixation with her breasts, he was a grade A jerk.

She heard him speaking to Lorraine and Lola, though what he was saying didn’t register. But the deep, strong timbre of his voice raised goose bumps on her arms.

This was insane. He was the kind of man she knew to avoid—one who came on strong to land a woman, but barely returned a crumb of affection once the novelty wore off.

Kat was done with accepting crumbs. Next time she fell in love, she wanted the whole damn cake.

But a quick glance at his tense jaw and observant eyes had her poised to run. Or throw herself at him.

She began to stand, intent on acting on her first impulse. Because throwing herself at a virtual stranger, while satisfying in the short term, never ended well.

A hand brushed her shoulder. There was no accompanying zing of awareness. Sneaking another glance at Tony, Kat was surprised to see he’d turned to talk to the older man. They appeared to be deep in conversation about the merits of the Dallas Cowboys versus the Phoenix Cardinals.

“Here’s my new neighbor. Kat, isn’t it? We met on the shuttle to our casitas,” a male voice said from behind her.

She turned to see Will standing there, a nice guy in his thirties with an easy, safe smile.

“Yes, I remember. It’s good to see you again.” Her tone was more effusive than she’d intended, bordering on desperate. Damn.

His eyes widened for a second. “Good to see you, too. You all settled in?”

“Yes. You were the one with the golf clubs, right?”

Grinning, he said, “Yes, that’s me—didn’t want to overdo the exercise. We’ll have to talk later.” He squeezed her arm and moved to his seat on the other side of the table, where he charmed Lola and Lorraine for most of the meal.

And totally ignored Kat.

How was she supposed to see if she could drum up some enthusiasm for a nice guy when he wouldn’t even glance in her direction? And what did he mean by “talk later”?

With Zach, it would have meant a booty call that turned into a three-year live-in arrangement at her place. Unfortunately, the arrangement hadn’t included employment on his part.

“He’s not for you.” Tony’s voice was low, his breath warm on the curve of her ear.

Her shoulders tensed again. Not only at his assessment, but also because she could imagine him tangled in her sheets, whispering her name in the dark.

Her best bud, Annie, would tell her to run like crazy from a man who rang her bells so insistently on the first meeting. Granted, the advice could be construed as hypocritical if her friend didn’t mean so well, since Annie had slept with her husband, Drew, the evening of their blind date.