Stone Cold Christmas Ranger. Nicole Helm
all curled into it. She wanted to trace it with her fingers.
So, she scowled instead. “Let’s worry less about how I take my coffee and more about what we’re going to do.”
“First things first, we’re going to go back to your office and check for a bug. We need to know exactly what your brothers know about me and what I’m looking for.”
She wasn’t in love with him deciding what they were going to do without at least a conversation, but unfortunately he was right. They needed to know for sure what was going on.
“Once we’ve figured that out, we’ll move on to trying to lure your brothers out.”
“I’m guessing my leading their cronies to Texas Rangers headquarters and yelling probably did it.”
“Probably, but we need to make sure. We also need to make sure it seems like we don’t want to be caught.”
She studied him then because there was something not quite right about all this.
“This is official Ranger business, right?”
He focused on the computer. “What do you mean ‘official’?”
“This isn’t on the up-and-up, is it?”
His mouth firmed and his jaw went hard and uncompromising. He was so damn hot, and she kind of wanted to lick him. She didn’t know what to do with that. She’d never wanted to lick anyone before.
“I’ve been okayed to investigate this case,” he ground out. “It’s possible we’ll have to do some things that aren’t entirely by the book. I might not tell my superiors every single thing I’m doing, but this is one of those cases where you have to bend the rules a little bit.”
“Doesn’t bending the rules invalidate the investigation?”
“Depends on the situation. Do you want to find the answers to your mother’s murder or not?”
Which she supposed was all that really mattered. She wanted to find the answers to her mother’s murder. Everything else was secondary. “Okay. Well, let’s go, then.”
His mouth quirked, his hard, uncompromising expression softening. “Aren’t you going to finish your coffee?”
She glanced at the mug, and she knew he was testing her. Teasing her maybe. She fluttered her eyelashes at him. “You make shitty coffee.”
He barked out a laugh, and she was all too pleased he was laughing at something she’d said. All too pleased he would tease her. Pay attention to her in any way.
It was stupid to be into him. So she’d ignore that part of herself right now. Ignore the flutters and the being pleased.
A door opened somewhere, and Bennet visibly cringed when a voice rang out.
“Bennet? Are you here?”
It was a woman’s voice. Did he have a girlfriend? Something ugly bloomed in her chest, but Bennet offered some sort of half grimace, half smile. “Well, Alyssa, let’s see what kind of actress you are.”
He pushed away from the table, and an older woman entered the room. He held out his arms.
“Mother. How are you?”
“Surprised to find you here.” She brushed her lips across the air next to Bennet’s cheek.
Alyssa pushed herself into the little corner of the countertop, but Bennet wasn’t going to let her be ignored. He turned his mother to face her.
“Allow me to introduce you to someone,” he said easily, charmingly, clearly a very good actor. The woman’s blue gaze landed on Alyssa.
“This is Alyssa... Clark,” Bennet offered. “Alyssa, this is my mother, Lynette Stevens.”
“Alyssa Clark,” Mrs. Stevens repeated blandly.
Alyssa didn’t have to be a mind reader to know Mrs. Stevens did not approve. She might have squirmed if it didn’t piss her off a little. Sure, she looked like a drowned sewer rat and was the daughter of a drug kingpin rather than Texas royalty, but she wasn’t a bad person. Exactly.
Alyssa smiled as sweetly as she could manage. “It’s so good to meet you, Ms. Stevens. I’ve heard so much about you,” she said, adopting her most cultured, overly upper-class Texas drawl.
Mrs. Bennet’s expression didn’t change, but Alyssa was adept at reading the cold fury of people. And Mrs. Stevens had some cold fury going on in there.
“I didn’t realize you were seeing anyone at the moment, Bennet,” Mrs. Stevens murmured, the fury of her gaze never leaving Alyssa.
“I don’t tell you everything, as you well know.”
“Yes, well. I just came by to see what all the noise complaints were about. If I’d known you were busy, I wouldn’t have bothered you.”
“It was no bother, but I do have to get ready for work.”
“And what’s Ms. Clark going to do while you work?”
“Oh, I have my own work to do,” Alyssa said. She smiled as blandly and coldly as Bennet’s mother.
“Yes, well. I’ll leave you both alone then. Try to avoid any more noise disturbances if you please, and if you’re around this evening, bring your young lady to dinner at the main house.”
“I’ll see if our schedules can accommodate it and let Kinsey know,” Bennet replied, and Alyssa had not seen this side of him. Cool and blank, a false mask of charm over everything. This was not Ranger Stevens, and she didn’t think it was Bennet either.
“Wonderful. I hope to see you then.” She gave Alyssa one last glance and then swept out of the kitchen as quickly as she’d appeared.
Alyssa looked curiously at Bennet. “That’s how you talk to your mother?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Why did she hate me so much?”
“You’re not on her approved list of women I’m allowed to see.”
“She doesn’t have a list.”
Bennet raised an eyebrow. “It’s laminated.”
Alyssa laughed, even though she had a terrible feeling he wasn’t joking. “So, she wants you to get married and have lots of little perfect Superman babies?”
“It’s a political game for her.”
“What is?”
“Life.”
Which seemed suddenly not funny at all but just kind of sad. For her. For Bennet. Which was foolish. She’d grown up in a drug cartel. What could be sad about Bennet’s picture-perfect political family?
“Why’d you give her a fake name when you introduced me?”
“Because her private investigators will be on you in five seconds. If you’ve ever stripped, inhaled, handed out fliers for minimum-wage increases, I will know it within the hour. But a fake name will slow her down.”
“She checks out all your girlfriends?”
“All the ones I let her know about. Which is why I don’t usually let her know. Which I imagine is why she’s here at five in the morning and overly suspicious. But you don’t have to worry.”
“Because you didn’t give her my real name?”
“Because I think you can eat my mother for lunch.”
Alyssa glanced at the way the woman had gone. She didn’t think so. She might be a rough-and-tumble bounty hunter, but Mrs. Stevens had a cold fury underneath that spoke to being a lot tougher than she looked.
Still, Alyssa didn’t mind Bennet thinking she could take his mother on.