Destined (The Rangers of Ridge County #1)

Chapter Twenty

CHAPTER TWENTY

EMMETT

M illie Rushing consumed my thoughts.

And that posed somewhat of a problem considering I still had an unidentified body in the county’s morgue.

I would be lying if I said I wasn’t skeptical of this friendship with her.

Why would she want to be friends with me? She’d been continuously subjected to the worst version of my personality since arriving in Ranger Ridge.

I was sure to mess this up, but something about her made me want to try anyway. Even if it meant putting everything else on the back burner for tonight.

While the town was snowed in, I’d been hard at work. In the last few days, we learned the Ford Escape was a rental car—which gave us hope of finally catching a break in this case. Once Mike finalized his reports, I hoped we’d be able to confirm the Jane Doe’s identity.

Our working theory was the killer suffocated the victim, then dragged her body behind a vehicle before dumping her near Lenny’s Fuel Station. This would account for her broken neck as well as the wounds covering her body. Though just thinking about it had me struggling to control my breathing.

Sometimes, my job made me feel like I was drowning.

But like a sea-worn ship, Millie was a beacon calling me back to the safety of the shore from where she stood on the front porch .

My truck rolled to a stop behind her car, and I threw my door open. She hadn’t left her spot on the porch or even waved in my direction.

Maybe she came to her senses during this snowstorm and decided she didn’t want to be friends after all.

I stepped out from behind the driver door right as Millie yelped.

“What the fuck, Millie?” I growled as I charged toward where she had busted her ass on the bottom step.

“I slipped,” she huffed. “I’ve been going stir crazy stuck inside this house for the past three days.”

Sticking out my hand, I startled when a feline paw swiped at me from out of nowhere.

“Shit!” I cursed, my attention landing on the black cat at her side.

When had she gotten a pet?

Determined, I offered my hand again. She grasped it, and I held on tight. Pulling her up a little too forcefully, she collided into my chest. I wrapped my arms around her body to steady us while staggering backward into the front yard.

I stood there for a moment longer than necessary, appreciating the way her curves molded to my chest. She smelled of warm vanilla and a hint of citrus.

My hands lingered at her sides, her nearness frying the circuitry of my brain.

Before my hands started to wander in a way I wasn’t certain Millie would appreciate, I reluctantly removed them and took a step backward.

Her pupils were dilated, and she was breathing heavily.

Her long hair was windswept, and the coat she had on was falling off one shoulder.

Without thinking, I reached out and tugged her coat back up, pulling both sides closer together. I didn’t like the thought of her being cold.

“I haven’t seen you drive any vehicle besides your cruiser,” she commented as she took a few steps away from me.

I immediately missed her warmth.

“Is that supposed to help explain this unconventional greeting? Not that I’m complaining,” I joked. “You can fall for me anytime, beautiful.”

She rolled her eyes, and I smirked back at her.

“I wasn’t sure who was pulling into my driveway,” she stated, and I was thankful for her vigilance. “I’m still fairly new here and don’t get a ton of visitors.” She paused for a moment before continuing, “Not that I can blame anyone. I wouldn’t want to hang out in this house either. In fact, that’s why I came outside.”

I looked up at the dated Bennett farmhouse. It had definitely seen better days.

It always had a forlorn air about it but even more so as of late. I couldn’t put my finger on why, though. What I could say was that Millie had been the best thing to ever grace this property.

“Well it’s a good thing I came to invite you over for dinner,” I said. “Sounds like you could use a change of scenery.”

I’d been prepared for her to argue, but it hadn’t taken long to convince Millie to come back to my place. One second I was mentioning how I’d tried my hand at cooking lasagna and the next she was in my passenger’s seat.

“Wow,” she gasped as we rolled to a stop in front of my house.

I peered over at her and instantly regretted it.

Her jaw had dropped, and her mouth hung agape. My dick stiffened in my jeans at the thought of viewing her expression from a different vantage point.

One where she was on her knees in front of me.

“Your home is stunning,” she said, and I forced myself to focus on her words. “I’ve never been able to catch a glimpse of it from my house.”

“My very own peeping Tom,” I chuckled, causing her to scowl.

Which only worsened the situation growing behind my zipper.

I repositioned in the seat and saw her glance down.

She quickly looked back out the windshield as her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink .

Fuck me.

I wasn’t sure either one of us was going to survive the evening with our dignities intact.

“Your home is lovely, Emmett,” she repeated as we both stepped out of my truck.

“I grew up here,” I stated. “My parents built it, and I sort of inherited it.”

I hated talking about this.

“My mother couldn’t stay here,” I continued. “After…” My sentence stalled as I thought back on the day she’d left. I didn’t blame her.

I felt Millie’s hand squeeze mine, anchoring me in the present. I grasped onto it as if it were a life preserver.

This house was haunted by the ghost of my father. Hugh Ranger had been larger than life when he was alive, and that hadn’t changed in the wake of his death.

“My older brother Greyson lives in the Valley,” I gritted out. “When my dad passed, his son had just been born. Mom moved in to help them and never left.”

“Greer and Rory have talked a lot about your family in the Valley,” Millie murmured. “They sound like quite the bunch.”

Making our way inside, we dropped all our gear by the door and headed into the kitchen. I thought she might elaborate on what exactly my sisters had shared, but instead, she fell silent.

It was then I realized she had spotted the lasagna and chocolate cake I made. The way her eyes lit up was revitalizing.

I could easily get addicted to this feeling.

“You made lasagna?” she questioned. “For me?”

“Sure did,” I gloated proudly. “My sisters said it was your favorite.”

She was smiling that dazzling smile of hers, and if I kept staring I was bound to do something stupid—like toss her onto the table and eat her for dinner instead of this meal I prepared.