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Ranger Ben: A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance Page 8
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“Deputy Barbie is not too far, and we can let her know when to meet up with us anytime today,” he tells me before eyeing my plate and urging me to eat with his eyes.
Deputy Barbie? What the hell does that mean?
Not wanting to miss a minute without Ben, I eat everything he’s prepared for me and after cleaning up the dishes I’ve used I make my way to the bathroom, having a brief snoop of his place with the window shutters open, noticing how bright and fresh everything looks, despite the carnage outside.
Or maybe it’s just how I’ll always feel now.
Better in a brighter world because of Ben. Knowing I belong to someone and he belongs to me. There’s no feeling like it.
Wondering about my clothes still, and the little voice of my dad in my mind I never quite seem to be able to get rid of, I find a neat stack of clothes along with my underwear, washed and dried in the bathroom.
The clothes aren’t mine, and I wonder why Ben would have women’s clothes, least of all clothes in my size.
I examine them with some uncertainty, raising a brow at the brand name labels. These aren’t cheap.
The phrase Deputy Barbie pops into my mind, but I shake my head.
No. Ben wouldn’t do that. In fact, there was an equal look of relief in his eyes when I told him I was a virgin.
Takes one to know one, and I make a mental note to bring it up sometime.
It all makes a little more sense when I see the Parks and Wildlife tags for lost property ‘unclaimed’ with a barcode on them.
Hmph. Guess it’ll do until I get my own clothes back. If I can get them back. I wonder if they have anything else in my size. This lost property is nicer than anything in my wardrobe.
I groan loudly at the thought of having to deal with the whole rental car insurance thing.
Plus having to cope with my dad, who I know won’t have slept a wink if he isn’t on his way here already.
Taking a deep breath, I try to relax, thinking happy Ben thoughts which aren’t hard.
The memory of him is still so fresh, and yes, that pleasing ache I have is a gentle reminder that apart from a few hurdles, I think everything is gonna work out just fine.
I relax in the shower as long as I dare, knowing although Ben said ‘whenever I’m ready’ I don’t want to hold up his day or his job.
Feeling fresh and actually loving my new hand-me-down outfit, I don’t have to look far for Ben, he’s on the phone and the radio at the same time while typing emails.
One of the voices apart from his is familiar, and it sounds like the car rental agency guy on speakerphone.
“We can’t discuss anybody else’s agreement with you, sir,” the voice says in a monotone.
Yep, that’s the same guy alright.
“…and what’s more, even if we could, you’d need the agreement invoice number, which you don’t have either,” it continues dryly.
Ben murmurs into his radio and after signing off he hangs up his phone too, finishing an email before turning in his chair to look at me.
“Well. You look… just beautiful,” he says, meaning it, as he stands to come over to me, taking my hands in his.
“Sorry about the clothes, but they are clean, fully disinfected and the best ones I could find—” He tries to say before I cut him off.
“The best ones in my size, you mean?” I ask, feeling hurt but only because it’s what I’m used to hearing.
“What does that mean?” Ben asks, confused. “Yeah I was worried they wouldn’t fit, but I don’t know anything about women’s sizing. I have enough trouble trying to get clothes that fit me. All this?” he adds, running the back of his hand down his shirt and pants. “Custom made because nothing fits off the rack,” he says, shaking his head and looking at me askew.
“I did wash your underwear, by hand,” he admits, taking in a breath and nodding with supreme satisfaction.
“We can go get your things now if you’re ready?” he asks and I have to let it go.
No point trying to have the ‘poor fat me’ discussion with Ben. I know he doesn’t see me like that. It’s part of why I love him so much.
Next to him, I’m tiny by comparison.
Being a National Forest without houses, it’s hard to tell how much actual damage there is as we drive across rough dirt tracks.
Ben goes off-road more than once or twice, avoiding fallen trees, but as he says himself, “It could’ve been much worse,” I’m not sure if he means the park or if he’s still thinking about me staying in that rental car that I guess we’ll see soon enough.
Tossed like a candy wrapper.
Following the coordinates Ben got from the sheriff who used their influence to get the rental car company to comply, we both see it at the same time and I gasp loudly.
Ben slows his truck, shaking his head and I know somehow he’s still blaming himself, even though I’m fine.
The sleek, sporty coupe I remember is on its roof. Totally wrecked.
Next to it is a police patrol car, with what looks like a leggy blond dressed as a cop, complete with a state trooper’s hat and gun belt.
It’s a weird image and hearing Ben groan, I figure this must be the ‘Deputy Barbie’ he spoke about.
As we slow to a crawl in his truck and get closer, I notice her heavy make-up, nails, and big hair under that huge hat.
To me, she looks comical, but I also know that most guys would gladly commit a crime to be man-handled by her.
She’s the typical ‘perfect’ blond, with tits, legs, and ass that most men would eat broken glass for.
I feel a little stab of hurt inside again, wondering against my better judgment just how much time my ranger and this ‘Deputy Barbie’ have actually spent together.
The look on her face changes as soon as she sees me, and Ben murmurs to me in a low voice.
“Sorry in advance for this one, she’s a little different. Let me do all the talking.”
Chapter Fourteen
Ben
I’m all for women in uniform and equality all ‘round. But seriously?
Dressing like a Barbie doll in uniform isn’t my idea of professional, let alone the turn on she thinks it is.
I know it might give old Sherriff Digby a twitch in his trousers, but it’s a bad look for the troopers, I think.
In fact, I personally find it disrespectful, but if Sherriff Digby can’t be here, I’ll do my job and deal with the law in whatever capacity it presents itself.
“Hello, Ben,” she coos, making a duck face as she saunters closer to me, but I ignore her, going around the other side of the truck to help Stacey down.
“Who’s your little friend?” she calls out, cocking a brow and frowning when I introduce Stacey, briefly explaining what’s happened as far as her being separated from her vehicle overnight and being assessed medically at the Ranger’s station.
“I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t have blown away if she was sitting in it,” the deputy says, eyeing Stacey up and down in a way I don’t like.
“Stacey’s also a family friend. So this is very personal to me,” I growl, grinding my jaw as I strain to keep the topic on the business at hand.
Barbie shrugs and examines the back of her nails, pretending to stifle a yawn.
“Whatever,” she sighs absently.
“And where were you when the storm hit?” Stacey spits. “I bet you weren’t out in it in your car!”
I put a hand on her arm, reminding her silently to let me do the talking.
Something told me these two might not get along.
I don’t get along with Deputy Barbie either, in fact, I usually try to avoid her like the plague.
She gives Stacey a quizzed look. “I was in the next county, actually. The state football team was having a private function I needed to provide security for,” she drawls, a misty look coming into her eyes.
“Shame you weren’t there too, Ben. We could’ve had a good time. Nothing like safety in numbers during a storm, eh?” s
he asks, cocking her brow again, letting her eyes settle on my crotch.
Shuddering with revulsion, I stick to business and producing the key to the rental, I tell her we’re here to collect Stacey’s belongings and paperwork from the car so we can arrange the insurance claim.
Deputy Barbie shrugs again, looking bored once she knows I’m not interested in her. Like the dozen other times she’s tried to do her thing with me, I just ignore her and get on with my job.
“Stacey Gorman?” I hear her call out from behind us as we get closer to the wreck.
Stacey turns to face the Deputy, hands on her hips.
“What of it?” she hisses, and I almost chuckle at how proud I am of my girl right now.
“Her father’s on his way up, be here tomorrow most likely. Probably to take her home I imagine,” Barbie drones in my direction, ignoring Stacey but making my stomach tighten.
“Didn’t know Rangers were supposed to house minors of the opposite sex overnight either, Ranger Ben,” she adds, teasing me in her threatening way.
“I’m an adult.” Stacey almost shouts, looking furious by the time her eyes meet mine again.
“Still,” she echoes as we both turn back to the wrecked car. “Not a good look, Ben.”
I stop myself from replying. “Just ignore her, Stacey. We’ll get what we need then we’ll call the rental company,” I tell us both.
“And what about dad?” she asks, making me stop in my tracks, both of us sharing the same thought without saying a word.
“I guess we’ll have to deal with that as it comes up,” is all I can tell her, not even knowing myself how or when I’m gonna have it out with my oldest friend but knowing I’m not gonna pretend when it comes to Stacey and me either.
I have to use all my strength to force the door of the car even once its unlocked.
Every panel and window is wrecked, and I know there’d be no way anyone would have survived if they’d been inside.
I think Stacey feels that too once I pry open the wreckage, and once I feel it’s safe enough, I invite her to crawl in and get what she needs. But she shakes her head, her face going pale.
“I only thought...” I try, but crawl in myself, cursing my stupid mouth for talking before thinking.
I only thought she wouldn’t want other people touching her things is what I meant.
But I’m not other people. Not anymore.
I’m her Ben and she’s my Stacey. We both need to get used to that, I guess.
I rummage a bit, and the glovebox yields her hire contract paperwork, while a shoulder bag on the roof, now the floor is all I find there.
“My suitcases in the trunk,” she volunteers from outside and I shimmy back, handing her everything I have so far.
“The other trunk,” she reminds me, shrugging and pointing to what used to be the hood of a car in my day, even though its crumpled to hell it pops open easily enough.
“That’s everything,” Stacey murmurs quietly, and I hear Deputy Barbie groan when I hook my arm around Stacey, pulling her close to me for comfort.
“You weren’t in there okay. I found you remember?” I remind us both before kissing her head and lifting her suitcases as we head back to my truck.
Deputy Barbie is holding out a written incident report like its toxic as I snatch it from her with a grunt of thanks.
We’ll need it if we’re gonna get Stacey’s insurance as well as the wrecked car towed.
“A Ranger’s responsibility, huh?” Is all the Deputy has left before I put Stacey and her things into my truck, pulling away from the patrol car and the wreck as soon as I can.
“Why don’t we head over to the ranch instead of the Ranger station?” I suggest. “It’s not far, pretty much the same distance, only in the other direction.”
“I thought you said it might not be standing?” Stacey asks, and I can see she wants to ask me twenty questions about Deputy Barbie back there, but that’s done now. I don’t want to even think about it.
“That’s partly why I want to go, to the ranch,” I chime in. It’s true. There’s no other way to know unless I go and see for myself.
“The Sherriff and other state troopers, as well as emergency services, will help anyone who needs it,” I tell Stacey.
And I’m glad beyond words when she agrees.
“Is there a bunker there too?” she asks, trying not to smile, but obviously having some fond memories. The kind I know we both share now.
“Better than that,” I announce, hoping the old place stood up to the storm, “There’s a four poster bed and an old fashioned wood stove, with a fireplace in every room.” I smile, seriously hoping all my hard work hasn’t been treated the same way as her electric car.
Technology.
Not something I ever see coming first when it’s pitted against nature.
Setting my mind on the Ranch and ignoring the hundred other things I’d normally do on a day like today, I ask Stacey to give me the details so I can call the rental company, her response shocks me a little.
“It’s my mess, Ben. I’ll clean it up,” she says cheerfully, thumbing the paperwork herself, reading over the contract, and making me proud of her again for the second time today.
“Just trying to help,” I mumble, not hiding the little bit of hurt I feel.
“You can’t do everything for me, Ben. Please? Let me handle it. If I get stuck I’ll let you know,” she says, reaching over to squeeze my leg.
“You’ve rescued me enough for one day, but I can do some stuff by myself,” she tells me, letting her hand rest on my thigh once mine closes over hers.
I squeeze her hand back, not daring to look at her in case my face shows just how emotional she makes me sometimes.
God, I love her.
I love her so much.
Reminding her I’m here if she needs it, I listen as she deals with everything over the phone, arranging the insurance claim and tow. Giving the police report number and most of all, handling herself like a woman in charge.
More than once the rental agency tries to wheedle out of their contract, but having read it over, she seems more up to speed on their company policy than they are.
By the time she’s done, we’re pulling up to the gates of the ranch.
Our ranch I want to tell her, but she’s had a big enough day so far for that kind of talk.
I hop out to open the gates and noticing the house still standing in the distance, I sigh with some relief.
I guess the old place has seen a hurricane or three…
Getting back in the truck, I’m glad to see Stacey’s eyes wide with pleasure as she takes in the scenery.
A big old bluestone ranch, solid chimneys reaching up like fingers, and a solid timber porch running the whole way around.
There’s even an ancient barn and stables, still all standing. Corrals and plenty of room for whatever we want to do with the place.
“It’s just beautiful,” she exclaims, and without taking my eyes off her as we pull up, I couldn’t agree more when I see her in this light, out front of our new home.
“It sure is,” I echo back. “Just beautiful.”
Chapter Fifteen
Stacey
Pulling up to Ben’s ranch, knowing I’ve sorted out the wreck of my rental car. It’s just enough to put the thought of my dad coming up here out of my mind.
I had no idea this part of the world was so beautiful, with what looks like a painted mountain behind the fairy tale ranch buildings, I’m not surprised Ben wanted to show me let alone come up here.
I leap out of the truck, eager to have Ben show me around, but his radio crackles to life and he lets me know with a glance that he has to take it.
“Have a look around, but don’t wander off,” he says. “Key’s under the pot plant by the door,” he adds quickly before he takes his radio message.
I follow his advice and making a beeline for the front door, I can’t help but feel like I’ve been here before.
I
wonder if dad brought me here when I was little, too little to remember.
Or is it just that I know home when I see it?
I want to look through the whole place, which looks like it hasn’t seen any storm damage, but I can’t help but overhear Ben’s voice from his truck and wonder who he could be in a heated conversation with now.
I know it’s not my dad, but I can’t help but worry, feeling guilty again that he’s cutting his regular schedule short just so he can spend more time with me.
I don’t mean to eavesdrop, but I work my way back to Ben’s truck, hearing him in a heated debate with a man I figure out quickly is his boss.
“Jesus, Ben. We’ve had a hurricane and you want to up and tail it to your ranch? I need you at the station, ready for anything…” I hear clearly.
Ben doesn’t see me, but I can tell he’s torn by the look on his face, the straining of his huge hand against the radio.
“I’m on duty, sir. Just taking some time to check on my own property, there have been zero casualties or even assistance requests. On my day off too, I might add,” he snarls.
There’s a long pause before the real reason comes out.
“I understand you have a driver rescued from her car in your care? A family friend, the sheriff’s office tells me,” His boss says, making Ben lose his temper for the first time that I’ve seen.
“If that’s an issue then fire me, asshole. No! I quit, you can stick your Ranger station where it fits,” he growls again before flicking off the radio, getting out of the truck, and running his hands through his hair before he spots me.
I rush over to him, and he’s not unhappy to see me.
“How’d it go?” he asks, forcing cheerfulness. “Like it?”
“Oh Ben,” I gasp. “Don’t do anything stupid because of me. Don’t give up your job just because I’m here,” I beg him, knowing how important it is to him.
Knowing how hard it is to get a job like he has, no matter how much property he has to support himself.