Justice for Laine (Badge of Honor: Texas Heroes Book 4) (2 page)

Wes didn’t respond to her, but turned to Jack and said nonchalantly, as if he wasn’t rocking her world, “Faceless.”

Jack grinned, but stayed professional. “No problem. Go ahead and pick up the rope that’s hanging over there on the wall. We’ll start with that looped over your shoulder. Do you have a Stetson in here? We’ll definitely need that, especially since we’re going the anonymous route.”

Laine didn’t say another word, but watched silently as Wes followed Jack’s instructions, strode to the nearby wall and picked up the rope. She felt the goosebumps pop up on her arms as she thought about Wes’s words. Unfortunately, she could feel her nipples harden in response as well. Her body was standing up and taking notice of the sexy-as-hell cowboy in front of her.

The next forty minutes were excruciating for Laine. She hadn’t realized how difficult posing for pictures could be. She figured the model just stood around for a bit and that was it. But Jack was a tough taskmaster. He asked Wes to pose in all sorts of positions, most with his head tilted down, shielded by the wide brim of his cowboy hat.

It was the flexing, and the sight of his perspiring chest that made Laine shift where she stood. He was so amazingly sexy, she had a feeling if she was alone with Wes, she wouldn’t have been able to control herself . . . and that wasn’t like her at all.

What also wasn’t like her was thinking about what the cowboy could do with the rope he posed with. She’d never been into bondage, but thinking about Wes lassoing her and tying her hands to one of the stalls as he bent her over and took her from behind, made her face flush with arousal.

Finally, Jack was satisfied with the pictures he’d gotten inside the barn. They moved outside, where the photographer decided that if Wes leaned against the fence, with the barn and horses grazing in the pasture in the background, it was perfect for a possible cover shot for the calendar. While he set up his cameras again, Wes ambled over to Laine.

“So . . . you’re friends with Mackenzie, who is Dax’s girlfriend. What else?”

“What else, what?”

“I want to know more about you. How old you are, what you do for a living, favorite color, if you’ll go out with me next weekend.”

Laine bit her lip and looked up at the man next to her. He wasn’t that much taller than her, probably four or five inches. His eyes were pinned to hers; he wasn’t distracted by anything going on around them, which was heady. She was used to men—and women, for that matter—being distracted by their phones, other people, the houses they were looking at . . . all sorts of things, so being the recipient of all of Wes’s male attention was a bit disconcerting.

“You’re awfully forward,” Laine said, crossing her arms over her ribcage, trying to act like she wasn’t dying to jump in his arms, hook her legs around his waist, and kiss his luscious lips.

One side of those lips quirked up. “I’m no more forward than you, Ms. Parker. You were undressing me with your eyes the entire time I was posing back there . . . and I can tell you, if we were alone right now, you’d find out how appreciative I am of your eyes on me.”

“Uh . . .” Laine was tongue-tied and had no idea how to respond.

“Just tell me you aren’t attached,” he demanded.

The hell with it. Laine was attracted to him and it seemed as if Wes was attracted right back. Why was she even trying to play coy? “I’m not attached. Thirty-seven—although you’re not supposed to ask a woman how old she is—I’m a realtor, purple, and yes.”

Her opinion of Wes rose when he followed the conversation easily. “I’m forty-two, you know what I do for a living, I don’t have a favorite color, but I’m thinking I’m becoming partial to purple as well . . .” He nodded pointedly at the lilac blouse she was wearing.

Laine looked down and blushed when she could see her nipples showing through the cotton bra she’d worn under her tank top. Dang it. She’d thought she’d gotten herself under control. She usually didn’t have a problem with spontaneous nipple hard-ons when she was out and about, but obviously this man was making her body stand up and take notice of him without even trying.

Wes continued, “I’ll pick you up at your place Friday night.” It was a statement and not a question.

Laine quirked an eyebrow. “You will?”

“Yup.”

“And if I won’t tell you where I live?”

“Mackenzie will.”

Darn it. He was right. “Okay, but I’m only allowing it because you’re a Texas Ranger. I typically don’t let men know where I live before a first date.”

“Smart.”

“You ready?” Jack asked from a few steps away.

Once again, Laine was surprised by the other man. It seemed as though when she was with Wes, everything else faded away . . . which was good and bad.

Laine watched as Jack did his thing with Wes for another twenty minutes. The photographer seemed very pleased with Wes, and the shots he’d gotten, and finished up the shoot quickly. He held out his hand to the Ranger. “Thanks for allowing me to interrupt your morning. If you ever want to make some money out of this photo thing, please contact me. Real cowboys are in high demand in the romance novel cover market. You’d make a ton of money without even trying.” He chuckled at the horrified look on Wes’s face. “Okay, okay, but I had to throw it out there. I know you probably have a ton of stuff to do. I’ll send over the best shots for your approval before the calendar goes to print.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

Jack shrugged. “I figure if you’re volunteering your body for charity, it’s only fair to allow you to say yes or no to the shots I pick out. It’ll probably be a month or so before you see them. I still have a couple more shoots to do for another project, and of course then I have to edit and put together the calendar.”

The photographer turned to Laine. “You’ll tell Mack that the shoot went well?”

“Yeah, I’ll tell her.”

“Great. Thanks for coming out today,” Jack added.

“I don’t think I was that much of a help,” Laine countered honestly.

“Oh, I think you were more of an inspiration than anything else.” Jack smirked, referring to the sparks flying between her and Wes.

“Whatever,” Laine murmured, blushing.

“See you later, Laine. Drive safe going back into the city,” Jack told her seriously as he turned to head back to his car.

“I will, you too,” she called out behind him. Laine took a step toward her own car when she was stopped in her tracks by Wes’s hand at her elbow.

“Hang on a second . . . please?”

Laine nodded, not sure why she was nervous to be alone with the charismatic man standing next to her, but she was. She waited for him to say something, but he stood silent until Jack’s car was headed down his driveway.

Then, still without a word, Wes put one hand on the side of her neck and the other wrapped around her waist, pulling her close. Laine’s hands rested on his chest in surprise as his head dropped down to hers. Her fingers flexed against his warm skin and she had two seconds to let it register that his chest was just as hard as she imagined it would be before he moved.

He didn’t ask. He didn’t hesitate. Wes took her lips as if it was the hundredth time rather than the first. When she gasped in surprise at the electricity she swore she felt as his lips touched hers, he took advantage and surged his tongue inside her mouth.

Tilting her head at his urging, Laine reciprocated enthusiastically, loving his aggressiveness as his tongue dueled with her own. When he sucked on her lower lip and nipped it gently with his teeth, she whimpered. Lord, the man could kiss.

He pulled away, not bothering to look around to see who might have seen them making out. As though pulled by an invisible force, he leaned down and kissed her once more, but with more tenderness than passion this time. His tongue lazily caressed hers, seemingly not in any rush and without making her feel it was merely a way to butter her up to get into her pants.

Finally, he took a step back, keeping his hand on her waist until she got her balance. “I’m looking forward to next weekend,” he said in a husky voice.

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“But I won’t know what to wear.”

“Ah, I should’ve thought of that. Okay, dress casually comfortable, but I’d love to see some skin.” Wes’s finger ran along the strap of the tank top over her shoulder.

Laine knew she should smack his hand away, but his touch felt so good, she knew she wouldn’t.

“Okay, but you should know I get cold easily. I swear I don’t know what it is about Texas that when the temperature goes above eighty, the people in charge of the air conditioning in buildings think they need to crank it down to fifty.”

“I won’t let you get cold.”

Lord, it was as if they were having sex, but standing upright . . . and a foot from each other.

“Okay then. Skin, comfy, and casual. I think I can do that.”

“Good. Drive safe, and I’ll see you Friday around five-thirty.”

Laine could only nod as she backed away from Wes. She kept eye contact with him until she reached her car. Fumbling into her pocket for her keys, she finally looked away as she got into the driver’s seat.

Driving down the road away from the ranch, Laine looked in the rear-view mirror and saw Wes standing where she’d left him, his eyes on her car as she drove away.

“
Y
ou are in big trouble
, sister,” Laine told Mackenzie that night when she called to tell her how the photo shoot went.

“Why? What happened?” Mack asked, alarmed.

“You didn’t tell me how crazy hot that man was.”

There was silence on the phone, which was telling, as Mackenzie was never at a loss for words. After a long moment, she seemed to come back to herself. “What? Are you kidding? I didn’t
know
. I mean, we had that discussion in the bar after Quint’s girlfriend, Corrie, was rescued. Everyone said he was good looking, but it’s not like Daxton would tell me that one of his coworkers was
sexy
or anything. I take it the cowboy thing worked for him? Did you ask him out? Was it weird? How did he act with Jack?”

Used to her friend’s nonstop questions, Laine waited until she wound down to speak. “First of all, yes, the cowboy thing worked
really
well for Wes. When we walked into the barn he was shoveling shit out of one of the stalls, shirtless. And let me tell you, I almost had a spontaneous orgasm right then and there.”

Laine heard Mack laughing, but went on.

“Jack was cool. But I got sucked into a conversation about whether or not they should take shots that would show his face and Wes actually asked me,” Laine’s voice dropped, mimicking Wes’s low, sexy voice, “‘if you were dating the model, would you want your man’s face to be shown or not’?”

“He. Did.
Not
!” Mackenzie exclaimed, almost hyperventilating.

“Oh, he did.”

“And what did you say?”

“I said that if I was dating someone, I wouldn’t want other women to fantasize over my man’s face. That they could drool over his body, but his face was all mine. So Wes turned to Jack and told him ‘faceless’, and so he posed with his hat over his face.”

“Holy shitballs.”

Laine could understand Mack’s reaction, because it was much the same as she’d had standing in front of Wes when he’d asked. “And he’s taking me out next Friday.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Truly?”

“Yes, Mack. Truly.” Laine heard her friend sniff. “Are you crying? What’s wrong?”

“I’m just . . . I’m so happy. I love Daxton with all my heart, but a part of me was sad that you didn’t have a man of your own. I’ve had friends who I’ve grown apart from because they got married and went on with their married life. I didn’t want that ever to happen with us. And I’m just so happy. Because not only are you with Wes, but he’s a Texas Ranger just like Daxton. It’s like it was meant to be.”

“Mack,” Laine warned. “This is one date. Don’t marry us off yet.”

“I know, I know, but this is so
cool
. Where are you going?”

“I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me.”

“But how do you know what to wear?” Mackenzie asked.

Laine snorted. “I know, right? That’s
exactly
what I said! He told me to dress casually, comfortable . . . and to show some skin.”

“You know what this means, right?”

“No, what?”

“We get to go shopping!”

Laine laughed at her friend. Shopping wasn’t usually her favorite thing to do, but Mackenzie was right, Laine wanted to look her best, and a new outfit that flattered her always made her feel good about herself and gave her a boost of confidence.

T
he next week
seemed to go by extremely slowly. Monday came quick enough, and Laine and Mack had spent Sunday afternoon at the mall, but between indecisive homebuyers and house inspections that didn’t go the way the sellers wanted them to, it’d been a long week. Laine had only gotten to scope out one rural property as well, which was one of her favorite things to do.

But it was
finally
Friday. Laine had left work around noon so she could go home and get ready and try to get rid of her nerves. She’d taken a long bath to relax and dressed in the new pair of Lucky jeans she’d bought the previous weekend. She’d found the perfect blouse for her date as well . . . at least Mackenzie reassured her it was perfect.

It was a dark purple that looked black in low light. It was sleeveless, with a high neck in the front. It was made of a silky material that draped her flatteringly. It looked modest from the front, but the back scooped down to the middle of her spine, leaving most of her back bare. It wasn’t so crass as to dip down to her butt crack, but a nice, modest—if you could call this shirt modest—mid-back drape. A regular bra wouldn’t work with the shirt, but there was no way Laine was going without one. Her nipple hard-on fiasco was still fresh in her mind, so she’d made a detour to the lingerie shop in the mall and bought a bra that had one of those versatile straps to it.

Laine refused to get a push-up bra, not wanting to falsely advertise what she didn’t have, but she made sure there was adequate padding in the lacy contraption so if (who was she kidding . . .
when
) her nipples peaked, she wouldn’t advertise it to the world . . . or Wes. Been there, done that, got the T-shirt. The straps wound around the sides of her ribcage and her lower back, safely tucked away below the drape on the back of the shirt.

It felt sexy and daring . . . and way more aggressive than Laine would’ve worn in the past. There was something about Wes that made her feel at ease and safe. His profession had something to do with that, of course, but it was ultimately him. He’d obviously been attracted to her, but other than the stolen kiss, he’d controlled himself and hadn’t acted like a hormone-driven asshole.

On her feet, she’d strapped a pair of open-toed sandals with a slight heel. Not high enough that she’d have to worry about tripping over her own feet, but enough to give her an extra inch or so. They had a thick block heel and a delicate strap that wound around her ankle.

She couldn’t wait to see what Wes had in store for them tonight. Laine had spoken with Mack earlier, promising to call no matter what time she got home that night, as was their custom. It was five twenty-three when her doorbell rang. Laine was glad Wes was early; she couldn’t stand when people were late. Her grandmother had been late for everything when Laine was little. They’d usually tell her something started fifteen minutes earlier than it did, just so they could get there on time.

Looking through the peephole to make sure it was Wes before she opened the door, Laine unlocked the deadbolt, opened the thick oak door and stared at the man standing on her stoop.

Wes looked every inch as delicious today as he had the week before. He was wearing a pair of black jeans and a western style shirt that had what looked like snaps up the front of it. It was a deep purple color . . . not as dark as her own shirt, but purple all the same. It figured they matched. They really were on the same wavelength.

The top two buttons of his shirt were open and Laine could see he was wearing a white tee under the button-up top. He had on a pair of what she would call “dress-up boots,” as they looked shiny and pristine.

To top off his outfit, he was holding a black Stetson in one hand, and a single purple rose in the other. She had no idea where in the world he’d found a purple rose, but at the moment, she didn’t care.

“Hi, you look amazing,” Wes observed as she simply stood there staring at him.

His words shook her out of her holy-hell-is-this-man-hot daze. “Oh, yeah. You do too. You want to come in while I get my purse?”

“No. I’ll wait here.”

“Really?” Laine asked, somewhat confused. His answer wasn’t what she’d expected.

“First, even though you invited me, I don’t want to overstep my bounds. Second, if I come in, I’m not going to want to leave. So yeah, I’ll wait here.”

“Oh . . . okay.” Somehow she’d forgotten how blunt the man could be.

He held out the rose to her. “Better take this and put it in some water though. Wouldn’t want it to die while we’re out and about.”

Laine reached out and took hold of the rose, bringing it to her nose to smell before telling him, “Thank you. It’s beautiful. I’ll be right back.” She whirled around, leaving the door open, to head back inside to fill a glass of water for the flower and grab her purse.

After a quick trip to the kitchen to fill up a large glass to put the rose in, she went back into the living room where she’d been pacing before Wes arrived, and over to the coffee table. She grabbed her purse and her sweater, which she’d put on the back of her suede couch so she wouldn’t forget it, and headed back to her front porch and Wes.

He took a step back as she exited the house and waited patiently as she locked her front door. Laine put her keys in her purse and hooked it over her elbow as she turned back to him. Wes held out his hand, indicating that she precede him down the two stairs and to her front walk-way. She felt his hand on her bare back a split second before he spoke in an almost too-casual way.

“Mind you, I wasn’t disappointed in the least when you opened the door, but I was a bit surprised at your choice of attire. I figured your interpretation of ‘showing some skin’ was different than mine . . . but I was okay with that.” Laine felt his thumb caressing her spine as they walked toward his large black truck. “But it’s a good thing I turned down your invitation to come into your house, because, darlin’, if I’d have seen the back of this shirt before you asked me in, I would’ve taken you up on it and we wouldn’t have left at all.”

Laine smiled and looked over her shoulder at him. The compliment was awesome to hear and if she was being honest with herself, she would’ve been disappointed if he hadn’t said anything about it at all. She’d chosen it to on purpose to try to make an impression. It was nice to have that validated. Wes was walking next to her, and she shivered once again as he shifted closer to her and his hand wrapped around her bare side under her shirt, not quite inappropriate-for-a-first-date territory . . . but close.

“We can still go back inside. We haven’t left yet,” Laine noted enthusiastically. She was all for the dating thing, but with the way she felt while around Wes, and with his warm palm on her side, she could totally do the sex thing first, then the dating thing.

She felt his hand squeeze her waist in reaction to her words, before he relaxed. “Nope. No can do. We’re out, and we’re staying that way . . . at least for a couple of hours. I’ve got plans, woman, and your seduction attempts will have to wait.”

“
My
seduction attempts?
You
were the one who told me to show some skin,” Laine protested weakly, loving his sense of humor.

“You’re right, I did,” Wes chuckled as he clicked the locks on his truck. He opened the passenger door without another word, finally easing his hand out from under her shirt to hold it out for her to grab on to as she hiked herself up and into the seat. When she was settled, Wes leaned in, resting one arm against the doorframe.

“I don’t know what it is about you, Laine Parker. I gave myself a talk before I got out of the truck. I told myself I would keep my hands to myself and be a complete gentleman. But there’s just something about you that makes me want to chuck all that away and take you down to the ground and ravish you. I don’t know if it’s the look in your eye that tells me you want to do the same thing to me, or if it’s just some crazy ‘it’s been too long since I’ve held a sexy woman in my arms’ thing. Whatever it is . . . rest assured, I like it. I like feeling this way. And just so you know, as much as I might want to, I’m not going to make love with you tonight. I find myself wanting to draw out this anticipation. I have a feeling the wait will be worth it. That
you’ll
be worth it.”

Laine didn’t know what to say, she could only sit there with her mouth open in shock as Wes leaned back and shut the door, sealing her inside his truck. As he walked around to the driver’s side, Laine muttered to herself, “Holy mother of God. I’ve hit the mother lode.”