Page 6 of Ranger's Wildflower
“Tessa.”
“You need to stop this.”
“Dinner’s considered ‘this’ now?”
His voice stayed soft. No teasing. No pushing.
That somehow made him more dangerous.
“You don’t even know me,” I said.
“I know you make arrangements for half this town and still stay late to sweep the sidewalk outside your shop.”
I blinked.
His gaze stayed on mine.
“I know you carry pepper spray in your purse, and tell people you carry it to keep you safe.
Heat crept into my cheeks before I could stop it.
“I know,” he continued quietly, “you bring coffee and food to old Mrs. Henley every Thursday because she can’t make it down the mountain anymore.”
My throat tightened unexpectedly.
Because those weren’t things people noticed unless they were paying attention.
And Ace Mercer had definitely been paying attention.
“That doesn’t mean you know me.”
“No,” he agreed. “But I’d like to.”
The words settled somewhere deep in my chest before I could block them.
Dangerous.
Very dangerous.
I crossed my arms tightly. “You really don’t give up, do you?”
A smile tugged slowly at one side of his mouth.
“Not usually.”
That look in his eyes softened again, and suddenly the shop felt too small.
Too warm.
For one reckless second, I imagined saying yes.
Dinner.
One night.
Seeing what happened.
The thought hit hard enough to steal my breath.
