Ranger Protector. Angi Morgan

went into the bedroom, and he crossed to a stack of T-shirts on top of a dresser. “Here’s a medium. You’re going to need something to wear before we leave for the meeting.”

      She caught the purple shirt that had a gold panther head on it. “Oh, no. I’m not heading to wherever you’re heading. Especially not dressed like a teenager.”

      He’d slept in his jeans—obviously not his best, but it didn’t look like he was changing out of them. Just his white undershirt. She’d seen great ab muscles before, but it didn’t hurt to admire some again. Just as long as he didn’t see her admiring them.

      “Will you feel better if I wear one, too?” he asked, pulling one off the stack and sticking his arms through.

      “No, Jack. It doesn’t make me feel any better at all.” She swiped up the pajama bottoms he’d given her last night that she could pull up to her armpits. She’d chosen to sleep without them.

      It wasn’t her first time to be half-dressed around a man. She’d been a cop. She knew the locker-room jokes and bro code. She also knew she’d have to get out of here the hard way. She waited until he began pulling his head through the T-shirt and tossed hers at him.

      The man had excellent reflexes and caught it. When his hands were occupied, Megan could have sucker punched him. She probably should have sucker punched him. But she didn’t. She ran out of the room, intending to trip him or slam a door in his face.

      He was faster than she’d thought. Faster getting untangled and faster out of the room. He lunged for her and pulled her to her knees before she could reach the front door. He covered her with his long body before she could get her arms out from under her when they’d broken her fall.

      She shoved. He rolled to his back, keeping her on top of him.

      Awkward. But she didn’t stop to dwell on it.

      “Let me go or...”

      “Settle down, Megan. I am not going to hit a girl.”

      Famous last words as she pulled her elbow free and jammed it into his solar plexus. She rolled and sent her fist into the same soft spot. Now Jack couldn’t catch his breath.

      “Good thing I don’t mind hitting boys.”

      He coughed and she yanked the drawer open, grabbing his keys. She ran outside and jumped inside the unlocked vehicle. Great—the truck was stick.

      It didn’t matter now. She’d chosen this path and would have to follow through. Car in Reverse. Jack running down the porch steps. Foot on gas pedal...

      Foot stomping on brake when a car pulled into the driveway behind her. She barely avoided a collision but couldn’t avoid the half-dressed man aiming a Smith & Wesson directly at her.

      “What in the world is going on here? Someone trying to steal your truck?”

      “Get the hell out,” Jack ordered her.

      She put the car in Park and killed the engine as the vehicle behind her did the same. Megan couldn’t catch a break, although she might not have gotten too far in a stolen truck of a Texas Ranger anyway. A young woman unfolded her tall frame from the bright red Miata now blocking Megan’s exit. Jack ignored the newcomer and came straight to her.

      Reaching through the car’s window, he removed his keys before swinging open the door and tugging Megan from the driver’s seat. “I’d charge you with assaulting an officer of the law, but it pales in comparison to felony murder.”

      He quickly ushered her inside the house and led her to the couch. Megan couldn’t decide if he was more upset that she’d taken him down or that she’d almost gotten away in his truck.

      Footsteps on the front porch reminded her that someone else had witnessed her failed escape attempt. Was it another cop or a potential ally? Who was she fooling? If they knew Jack, they’d obviously be on his side.

      The witness walked into the house without knocking. Probably not on Megan’s side.

      “You didn’t mention why you wanted clothes, and now I’m not certain I want to know.” Her eyes shifted from him to Megan.

      “Shut the door.” He waited until the woman complied, and then he swiftly snapped one handcuff against Megan’s wrist. She watched him scanning the room for something, probably some permanent fixture to affix the other bracelet to. He shook his head and snapped it to his wrist as the anger rolled off him in waves.

      “Jack?” the woman said, asking a million questions with his name.

      “Gillie, I need a babysitter for my...my guest.”

      “No one has to watch me,” Megan interjected. “You could let me go. I can take care of myself.”

      A horrified expression crossed Gillie’s face. “Are you serious? You’re holding a woman here against her will?”

      “No, wait a second. I’m doing this for Wade.”

      “Are you joking? Why would you kidnap a woman for your partner?”

      Whoever Gillie was, he didn’t answer her. She approached the couch and dropped a plastic sack.

      “My partner—” Jack emphasized the words “—got me out of a complicated situation. He saved lives. Including mine.”

      “Maybe you should think long and hard about doing what Wade’s gut wants instead of him taking care of it.”

      Megan wanted to interrupt and ask what was going on. They argued like two people who had known each other a long time. Then it dawned on her that Gillie was most likely Jack’s sister. The coloring and bone structure—along with her height—were all similar.

      “Don’t be ridiculous. There are complications that I can’t go into.”

      “Little Jack, I might just handcuff you to the pipes myself.”

      Somehow the slender brunette standing at the end of the small room looked much more powerful than the Texas Ranger holding his sidearm.

      Megan waved her hand, breaking the tension. “If you’re serious, I could help you.”

      They both looked at her.

      “Go get dressed, Little Jack. That is, if you have the key handy.” Gillie snickered.

      Jack silently removed his hand from the cuff and snapped it onto the metal scroll design on the end table. Then he walked away without another word.

      Gillie plopped down on the other end of the couch and turned sideways to face Megan. “Any chance there’s a short version of your story?”

      Megan shrugged, halfway tempted to remain silent and let the woman continue to assume this was all Jack’s fault.

      “Lucky for you, I’ve got nothing but time,” she continued.

      Megan tugged against the handcuff, but the heavy wooden table didn’t budge an inch. “Any chance you could sweet-talk him into giving you the key?”

      “Honey, if I had any influence over the MacKinnon men, I would have gone to work for anyone other than my father. Start talking.”

      “So you are his sister. I thought for a second there you might be his girlfriend.”

      “Oh, please. Jack and Gillie? That’s a joke. My real name is Gilleth Anne, after both of my grandmothers. My mom didn’t think that through all the way.” She laughed. Then giggled. “I’ll tell you my exciting tale later. Right now I want to know why you’re trying to escape in a bathrobe. One that I gave to Little Jack last Christmas and that he only wears to answer the door. Sometimes.”

      If the circumstances had been different, Gillie would be a person Megan would want to know. Right now she’d explain that she needed to get home or even call Therese to find out why her friend was afraid of the Austin police.

      Megan filled Gillie in on the events.