Chantal Fernando by Last Ride Page B

cupboard and peers inside. “You hungry? There’s some quiche and homemade sausage rolls in the oven.”
    He pauses and smiles at me. “Thanks.”
    There’s something about Ranger. I just have a feeling that he’s not happy here. I don’t know what it is, and I don’t know him well enough to butt in and offer my advice. What I do tell him though is, “Hey, if you ever need anyone to talk to, or vent to, I’m here. Just between us. No judgment.”
    It must be such a change for him. Talon has Tia and Shayla, and he knows Bailey too, but I think Ranger only knows Shayla, and he doesn’t have a woman. Everyone is coupled up here, so maybe he feels a little left out. I imagine the Wild Men clubhouse is a lot different from ours, at least from what I’ve heard from Anna and Bailey after their little expedition there. It would be a big change, and not everyone likes change.
    Ranger studies me, then opens the oven and grabs a quiche. I step closer to him and look up, way up, because the man is super tall. I like how he wears his dark hair tied at his nape. Kind of reminds me of Tracker’s hair before he started rocking the man bun.
    â€œI’m fine,” Ranger says, taking a bite out of his quiche.
    I stare at him, blinking slowly. “Did you just crumb in my hair?”
    He puts his hand on top of my head and dusts it, lip twitching.
    â€œYou totally crumbed in my hair,” I mutter, crossing my arms over my chest and sighing. “It must have fallen like ten feet from your mouth to my head too.”
    He laughs now, chest shaking. “I have good aim.”
    I grin. “Tonight’s your first ride as a Wind Dragon, hey?”
    He nods, more crumbs flying down, but this time I take a step backward. “I hear you’re super smart.”
    â€œAnd where did you hear that?”
    â€œAround.”
    â€œI’m just a big, dumb biker, Faye,” he says as he licks his fingers, amusement dancing in his eyes.
    â€œAnd I’m just a woman,” I reply, winking.
    He throws his head back and laughs. “Anyone who thinks you’re just a woman is stupid. You remind me of that woman from Vikings , you know, the TV series?”
    â€œLagertha?” I ask, eyes going wide as saucers. I love Lagertha. She’s my fucking hero, and if that’s who he’s talking about, Ranger is going to be my new best friend.
    â€œYeah,” he says, smiling. “You watch the show, huh? She’s badass. Totally you.”
    I step closer to him again. Fuck the crumbs. “I’m going to hug you now.”
    â€œOkaaaaay,” he says, watching me while I wrap my arms around him. He pats my back awkwardly, with fingers he just licked, but I don’t even care. “So call you Lagertha to get in your good books. Noted.”
    â€œSee,” I say. “You are smart.”
    â€œWe’re all smart in different ways.”
    â€œBut you’re smart in the ways that count,” I joke, pulling back and letting go of him. “And you have several degrees. Don’t tell Lana that; she’ll use you like an encyclopedia for her books.”
    â€œAnd you?”
    â€œAnd me what?” I ask, leaning back against the counter.
    â€œWhat will you use me for?”
    A strange question to ask, but one that tells me a lot. Does everyone want something from Ranger? Why does he feel like that? Maybe everyone wants to pick his brain. Maybe he’s one of those people who’s good at everything. Those people always get tired of being asked to do this or that just because they will do a good job of it.
    â€œCompliments comparing me to my fictional hero?” I say, trying to lighten the mood.
    It works, going by his easy smile.
    The bad thing is, I kind of was thinking of asking him for a favor. The type of cases I’ve been working on for the feds recently . . . Well, let’s just say I could use his mind.