“Are you seriously kidding me with this luck right now?” Teena Mason kicked the front tire of her government issue SUV only to swear once more as pain radiated through her foot and on to her leg. The steam rising from the hood did little to improve her mood. “Figures. The one time I step up and be nice to my coworker, I get stranded.” She threw her arms up. “In Texas. On some hot ass day that I’m sure means Satan is renting out his home, to take a vacation somewhere nice and cool.”
She winced from her dramatic behavior. “Shouldn’t have done that,” she muttered. She still bore battle scars from her latest assignment, injured ribs. “My fault. Should have known better.”
Teena dug her cell phone out of her suit coat pocket and wished she wore a skimpy camisole and short shorts instead. This pantsuit was hell.
“See that, Satan. I’m apparently now in your armpit. I want to leave. I have places to be.” Namely, her place in New Orleans, Louisiana. “Of course, no bars.” She moved back to the open passenger door. It may be Texas and it may be out in the middle of nowhere but she hadn’t lost the good sense God gave her to be hanging out on the side closest to the road. The interior was its own personal circle of hell as she sat on the seat, trying to activate her GPS service to call for assistance.
Nothing happened when she turned the key. At all. She rubbed the back of her neck and groaned. Not even any juice to call for help. Hopping down, she trekked to the back and opened the rear door. Reaching in, she drew out a bottle of water and uncapped it before indulging. There was an entire case in there. A habit she’d been ingrained with many years ago. With two more in hand, she returned to the front passenger seat.
Not even a breeze could be mustered up to blow and help alleviate the heat. She kept checking her phone, hoping a signal would decide to miraculously appear. No such luck. She also didn’t leave the safety of the truck, that would have also been an insane move. Here she had shelter, water, and the chance of being passed by a truck, car…hell, even a tractor.
She chuckled. “I’d take a ride on a tractor if it got me to a phone that worked.”
When the sun had begun lowering in the sky, she wanted nothing more than a shower and a bed. “Christ, I’m going to be sleeping in this damn vehicle. You owe me big, Jason.”
She leaned back in the seat and used a damp paper towel to dab the sweat off her face and neck. The whoop, whoop behind her, had her cranking her head around to peer out the window.
A large, older SUV with a cherry bar on top had pulled up and stopped, lights flashing.
“Thank God.” She settled back in her seat.
“Evening.”
How does one sound so damn chipper in this heat? Even Satan would be in a mood. But this man—at least his voice—sounded in a good mood.
“Hi,” she said angling her body toward the man in uniform.
“You having car trouble?”
She bit back her sarcastic remark. No sense in picking a fight with the local LEOs. “Yes, sir. It up and died on me. Was steaming but now, won’t even turn over a tiny bit. Is there a town nearby I could get some help from? I don’t have any signal here for my phone.”
He crossed his arms over a barrel like chest. “Lot of dead spots along this here road.”
“Figures, there would be in hell,” she muttered. She sat forward and reached for her purse.
“Hands on the dash, nice and easy.” The good mood had slipped away leaving with it the serious business tone of a cop.
Teena followed his demand, moving slow so he didn’t spook. “Teena Mason, US Marshal.” She placed her hands on the hot dashboard, biting back her moan of discomfort from both ribs and palms.
“Badge.”
“Left inside pocket of my suit coat.” She ground her teeth, pissed at herself for not identifying herself when he first arrived.
“Two fingers, right hand. Then transfer to your left and give it to me.”
“Sure.”
He snatched it from her.
She watched from the corner of her eye, having replaced her hand on the dash once it had been passed over.
“Don’t move,” he ordered.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” I’ll never hear the end of this now, when it gets back to them. The people she worked with would have a field day with this.
“Sorry about that,” he said, the deep Texas twang rolling off his tongue.
“I understand. You’re just doing your job.” Teena put her badge back. “You saw a gun and reacted. No harm, no foul.”
“Let me call you a tow. How long have you been out here?”
She settled back against the seat and thought about snow. Nice, cold snowy day with below zero temperatures. “Going on four hours now.”
“Good thing you didn’t wander. We’re thirty miles from Fort Mavis and I’m still not sure how you got on this road. Hardly used anymore.”
“Gathered that,” her sarcastic remark spilled free.
“Purdy little thing like you would get lost out here. How’d you become a Marshal?”
Purdy lil’ thing. The fact it didn’t annoy her half as much as it typically would was a testament to how exhausted she truly felt. “Worked my ass off.” There was no heat in her tone. “And technically, it’s Deputy Marshal.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m sure you did.” His tone changed a bit as if aware her goodwill was nearing its end.
She stood beside him and thought about her wrong turn. It’s my fault for thinking it was a good idea to take a short cut. Have I complained about that yet? No? Well, I’m sure I will again.
“Come on, I’ll take you to town, you can get a hotel. I’m sure they’ll have your car fixed as soon as they can.”
“And there is cell service there?” She swiped her bag and a few more bottles of water from the back.
“Yes. Just none along this stretch of road.” He held the door of his tan and green SUV open for her. “Who sent you here, I mean this way?”
“As much as I’d love to blame someone other than myself, it’s all on me.”
He climbed up and the vehicle rocked in response to his large frame. “Unusual to find a fed who doesn’t blame someone else.”
“To you perhaps. For me, it’s a local LEO who isn’t pissed a fed is in their vicinity.”
His booming laughter relaxed her along with the air moving over her. No, it wasn’t a cool breeze by any stretch, it was hot and acrid, but she took it willingly. The movement was more than enough.
“I’m going to drop you off at the hotel. Travis will tow your suburban and I’ll have him swing by the diner to give you an update.”
She fought a yawn. “Okay. Wait, why is he filling me in at a diner?”
“Figured you’d be hungry. He could talk to you while you ate. Food’s filling and tasty. You’ll like it.” He depressed the accelerator and they shot away faster as the first few stars popped from behind the dark indigo of the night sky. “Unless you don’t eat.”
“I eat,” she said gazing out over the vast pasture land. Before she’d been able to see the mixed greens of grasses but now it was nothing but emptiness, not split with artificial building lights.
“Good. They’re not far apart. Within walking distance. I will check on you come morning to make sure you fare well enough overnight.”
“Thank you.”
He grinned. “Protect and serve.”
She leaned back and tried not to yawn. Tried. Failed. More stars blinked into view and she took a deep breath, smelling cattle on the hot air. Hotel, food, and a shower. All she had to do was get some bars and check in. Perhaps she would get some sleep here. No case. No work. Hell, no car.
A day of sleep sure sounded divine. She held her tongue as they continued toward Fort Mavis. When the city lights twinkled in the distance, she readjusted in her seat. “How large is Fort Mavis?”
“Typical ranching community. Sprawling ranches, both cattle and horses are raised here. Small downtown.”
“And the law in this isolated town?”
“Sheriff Carlton is the man in charge. I’ve told him we had a fed in town. He’s a bit busy, so not sure if you’ll see him.”
“Okay.” She didn’t need to speak to him. She wasn’t here in this town on business.
They pulled up in front of a small motel and she climbed out. Making her way to the door, she stopped and glanced over her shoulder to wave at the man who’d rescued her.
He honked and drove away.
Then she pushed her way in the building.
A short woman in a blue dress with a wide smile approached the counter. “Hey honey. We have a room ready for you. Don’t be concerned. B called me and explained the situation. May not seem like much but the rooms are nice and clean.” She placed a key—an actual key—on the countertop. “Just need your John Hancock and you can go get settled. Would you like me to call in an order for you at the diner?”
Teena withdrew a pen from her pocket and clicked it. “No thank you. I appreciate the offer though.”
“Fort Mavis is full of kind people. Small town folk. Are you from a small town?”
“No ma’am. Born and raised in New Orleans, Louisiana.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I’ve decided to like you anyway.”
“Again, I appreciate it.”
Another award winning smile. “Let me show you to your room. Then I’ll leave you alone.”
“No problem.” She checked her phone as she followed the woman—still didn’t know her name—and smiled at the sight of bars. Coverage. It was a wonderful thing.
After another story—off tangent—Teena stood alone in the clean room. Simple but nice. And clean, such an important thing for her.
She tossed her bag on the bed and stripped out of her suit jacket. Hanging it over the chair to start air drying, she unbuttoned the first two buttons of her shirt, paused to removed her shoulder holster then stripped down to her bra. “God this is so much better.” The air conditioning blew over her heated skin. “First things first.” She grabbed her phone and called her partner.
“You okay?” Frank Danvers asked straight from the jump.
“No, I’m not. Vehicle broke down and I’m in some small ranching town called Fort Mavis.”
Silence then laughter. Lots of laughter.
“Seriously, Danvers? This isn’t funny. You should be here. Or rather, Jason should be. I took this for him.”
“Which is why my ass took the plane.”
She snarled and put it on speaker. “You knew this would happen?”
“Of course not. But I’m glad it was you”— more laughter, “—and not me.”
“Stick your head in a washer.” She undid her pants. “I’m here until it gets fixed.”
“I’ll let everyone know.” He cleared his throat. “You are okay, right?” His question serious this time.
“I will be. After a shower, food, and bed.”
“You undressing right now, Mason?” The jokester was back.
She reached for the phone. “You’ll never know.” She ended the call and strode for the shower. Frank had been her partner for four years now and they teased each other mercilessly. So, his comments like that were common and didn’t bother her at all.
Disposition one hundred percent better after the shower, she rechecked her injured ribs and then dressed. She clipped her badge to her jean’s waistband and tugged her dark grey t-shirt down, covering it and the Glock 23 she had at the small of her back. Her shoulder holster was empty, so she just put it in the bag, she’d sent it along on the plane only bringing her backup but she wasn’t about to leave it in the hotel room.
She headed out the door after gathering her thick mane of curls into a French braid and walked to the diner. Drinking her sweet tea as she sat at the counter on a swivel stool, she waited for her burger and fries.
The door opened and a group of men strode in. Two stopped to speak with others in the establishment while one beelined it for her. “Mason?”
Teena set the cup down and cocked her head to the side. “Travis?”
“That’s me.” He occupied the stool beside her and rested his hands on the countertop. “Coffee please.”
“Coming right up, darling.”
He gave the waitress a smile before turning his focus back to Teena. “Your vehicle is at my garage and it will take me about three days to get it fixed. I have to send out for the part. I had one in the shop but it’s not working, I’m sorry but that’s what I’ve got.”
Her food arrived, tempting her nose with delicious aromas. She licked her lips as her mouth watered. “Thank you,” she said to the pleasant blonde. “Not a problem, I appreciate you fixing it.”
“B said you were in law enforcement.”
She salted her fries and nodded. “I am. I have to ask. Does everyone just call him B?”
“Pretty much.”
She could look him up and find out exactly who not just B was but every other person in this town but she didn’t have it in her. So, she shrugged it off, picked up two fries and popped them in her mouth, chewing with bliss.
“How long you been in law?”
A thick tanned arm reached over her shoulder and took some fries from her plate. The arm’s dark hair skimmed along her skin setting her pulse ablaze. “She’s been a Marshal for ten years now, haven’t you Mason?”
She would have collapsed had she not been on the chair. That voice, that face—when she glanced up at it—told her all she needed to know. Her one night stand when she’d been in Georgia for some training stood there. Patrick West. Not entirely true. He had been a one night stand but for years after that, they’d been meeting in secret for no holds barred sex over a night or weekend.
She hadn’t seen him in a few months and if anything, he’d gotten better with age. A common thought for her when it came to this man. His smoky gray eyes bore into her with an intensity no other man could even begin to compare to. He’d gotten broader, not fat, but all muscle. She had no trouble telling he’d bulked up. The way his green shirt hugged his torso made parts of her sit up and beg. For his touch. For her to dust off the cobwebs and get back to what it was made for.
She moved her eyes down over his body and took in the way his jeans hugged lean hips and powerful thighs. She clenched her jaw and passed over his cock, well aware what space that particular item took up in his pants. This time however, he had cowboy boots on his feet.
“What are you doing here?” she blurted out doing her best to quell the need merely seeing him brought her. Was he here seeing someone else? Why was she jealous? Did she have any claim over him?
He nodded at Travis while he propped his hip against the counter. “I’m visiting my parents. I grew up here.” He cupped her cheek and smoothed his thumb over her bottom lip. “I think the question is what are you doing here?”
αβ
Patrick had surely lost his mind. He’d strolled into the diner to grab a bite of food when he saw none other than the woman who’d snared him from the moment he watched her take down a man twice her size on the training mat. He’d pursued her, drawn by her spirit and attitude. She’d blown him off more than once but he refused to let up.
One night, everyone had gone into town in celebration of the classes being over and he’d spent a part of the night watching her from across the bar. Watched her turn down guy after guy until he’d had enough liquid courage within him to approach her one more time.
That resulted in the best night of sex in his entire life. They’d been sleeping for maybe an hour when he woke to find the bed empty. She was gone. Leaving nothing but her number with the words, “If you want to do this again. No strings.”
Hell yeah, he’d wanted to do it again. And so they did.
For a couple of times over the next ten years he’d taken her up on that offer. Other than that, he’d only had the memories of their shared nights, she wouldn’t agree to anything more. Yet, each time he was with her, more of his heart signed over ownership to this woman. Her hair looked much longer now, hanging past her shoulders even in the braid. Her face looked thinner, her café au lait skin smooth as it had always been, calling for his touch. Always stunning even with the way she downplayed her looks.
He didn’t want to take his hand away from her face, so he swiped his thumb along the crease of her lips once more. The puff of her breath along the pad of his digit dragged his mind down the road where he sucked it into his mouth and they went from there.
Teena moved out of his touch and turned her back to him, going back to her food.
He noticed the others in the diner watching their interaction and he smiled. This was going to be fun. Raking his gaze over her back, he took in the holster at her spine. He wanted to lick her skin. All over. Moving directly behind her, he bent and blocked her in with his arms. He dipped his head and kissed the side of her neck, inhaling the soft scent of her shampoo.
She froze beneath him. “Marshal or not, West. Back off or I’ll bury you right here.”
“Marshal on Marshal violence is frowned upon.” He didn’t back up any, instead he leaned forward a fraction more. “I can think of better ways to spend Marshal on Marshal time.” God, he wanted this woman, wanted her riding him in bed, bent over before him as he drove them both to distraction.
She ate a long fry and reached behind her, grabbing his crotch.
Patrick gasped, shocked she would do such a thing. Then again, this is the woman who kicked the ass of every opponent she went up against in hand to hand training. “You want it, precious, all you have to do is ask. No need to twist.”
She pivoted around on the stool until she faced him still braced in. A place he liked her to be. “I said to back off. I’m using my non-dominant hand for this which means I’m free and clear to draw.”
“I like your fire, darling. Always have. You seem to sneak away from me each night we get together.”
Her fingers tightened around his cock and he bit back his moan of pleasure. Her touch was electric.
“I won’t give you another warning.”
The hard glint in her eyes while she hid passion told him she wasn’t lying. So he gave her the space she required. Her hand fell away as he took his single step back.
“So, I take it then, you two know one another?” Travis posed the question with a smile.
Patrick stared at the back of her head when she faced her food once more. “We do.” He reached for another fry. “What are you doing here, Mason?”
“I’ll swing by your hotel room if I get it fixed any faster,” Travis interjected.
“Thank you,” she said her tone much gentler.
Patrick took Travis’ unoccupied stool and angled his body toward her. Christ, he wanted to carry her out of here on his shoulder and directly to his room. He cleared his throat and gestured for a Coke which was all he ever drank when he came in here. “You know you can’t ignore me like this. I’m not going away.” He stared at her set expression. Yep, getting to her. The tightness in her jaw brought across that bit of information.
“What do you want?” She finally put down her burger and looked at him.
“What I’ve always wanted. You.”
“Seriously? We have something wonderful going on between us. One night at a time. Nothing more.”
He shook his head. “I disagree, there was a lot more than that between us. More than just the passion, the sweaty sex, the moaning, the—”
“Oh my God, can you stop putting it out there? Everyone doesn’t need to know that you and I had a thing.” Anger put a glint in her eyes and her lips flattened.
“They already do so nothing to hide now.”
“I’m a federal agent, carrying a sidearm, and I’m tired and cranky. Do you really want to push this issue, West?”
“I want to push a lot when it comes to you, Teena. You know how much I enjoyed that.”
She exhaled sharply and pulled out some bills. Tossing them down beside her plate, she rose. “Thank you for the food.” Moving away, she walked out the door without another word to him.
He went after her, jogged to catch up to the natural swing of her stride that did harsh things to his libido. “Teena. Teena. Mason!”
Looking disgusted, she stopped. “Haven’t you done enough?”
“I’m an ass, sorry. Let me make it up to you.”
“No. I don’t need you to make it up to me. I need out of this town and back to NOLA.”
So that’s where she’d been. “Can we start over?”
She yawned. “I’m exhausted. Just got off an assignment, offered to drive back, am suffering from bruised ribs, car broke down and was sitting out in this godforsaken heat for nearly four hours until this man y’all call B came by and got me. I tried to enjoy a meal and you come in and announce to everyone there that we’ve fucked. I don’t have anything left. I’m going to bed.” Teena held up her hands and backed away. “Alone.” Another yawn and she walked off once more.
This time, he let her go.
Yes, he’d truly been an ass but seeing Travis that close to her had sent him spiraling down a dark road. He’d never forgotten this woman and seeing her in person had brought all of his thoughts of her directly back to the forefront. He understood he hadn’t any claim on her but that wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted claim. He wanted his ring on her finger. He wanted her name to be his.
He didn’t move until he observed her heading into the hotel. Fort Mavis wasn’t that huge of a place and there wasn’t a ton of crime but he wasn’t taking the risk, despite the fact she was more than capable of handling herself.
A buzzing at his hip dragged his attention from the door she’d just vanished beyond. “West,” he replied answering.
“When are you coming back?” His director Seamus O’Hara asked. “I thought you were coming back today.”
“Changed my mind. You’re the one who told me I should take more time. I’ll be here a few more days.” Especially, since Teena is in my hometown and where I have complete and unfettered access.
“Your parents doing okay?” A hint of worry crept into his boss’ voice.
“They are thanks. It will just be nice for me to hang and help them out a few more days.”
“Do what you need to. But don’t think I don’t know that Deputy Marshal Mason is in that small town as well.” He hung up.
“How the fuck does he know this?” He returned his phone and shook his head. Deputy Marshal. He smiled and headed home. Tomorrow would be full of catching up, because he had plans with that little spitfire.
αβ
At six the following morning, Patrick carried a box of pastries in one hand as he walked by the front desk of the motel and down to the room his target was in. Pausing in front of the door, he took a fortifying breath then knocked.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Teena said when she stared at him after opening the barrier between them. “It’s too early for this.”
Blood rushed to his groin, swelling his cock within his jeans. Damn, she was a firecracker and right now, one who looked deliciously rumpled. Her hair fell free around her shoulders giving her a, ‘I’ve just been sexed and well’ look. Her tiny red camisole barely reached her belly button, showing off the diamond twinkling there. A pair of skimpy blue shorts covered her upper thighs.
“Damn, you’re sexy.”
“And it’s still early.”
Her words may not have been welcoming but there was no denying the way her nipples tightened beneath the red top as he stared.
He swung the box of pastries over before her and opened the lid. “I come with gifts.” They were her weakness. He’d learned a lot by watching her during their classes.
Shoving a hand through her curls, she stepped closer, bringing with her the subtle scent no other woman wore that he’d found. It reminded him of the happier times. Crisp green apples with a slight dusting of raw natural brown sugar.
She pushed up on her toes to peer in the box—intended by Patrick who took advantage and stared at the more exposed skin on her body—and reached in to withdraw an éclair. The smile on her face had him jealous of the pastry. With a purr, she wiped the small dollop of frosting in the rose shape on top and sucked it off her finger.
He cleared his throat and pushed by her, shutting the door behind him. “I thought we could catch up.” When they were together, there wasn’t any talk.
Her bed looked rumpled and he struggled to push away his thoughts of messing it up even more. Digging out his own treat, he put the box on the foot of the bed and took the chair against the wall while she parked her taut ass by the pink box.
She sat Indian style and took a bite, her groan of pleasure, coated his cock with steel and he gripped his vanilla frosting filled donut tighter, fingers digging into the soft dough.
Her tongue flicked out and got the leftover from the corner of her mouth. “So talk,” she said seconds before she took another bite.
“I heard you were now a Deputy Marshal.”
“I am.” She blinked. “How’d you hear?”
“You’re young and ambitious. You rising through the ranks as you have been doing, tends to be noticed in all the offices. Especially, in DC.”
“Is that where you’re at now?”
He stretched out his legs. “It is, been there for three years now. Love it, the hustle of the city. It has its own pulse.” He ate a bit. “And you?”
“Still in NOLA. Love it there, it’s my home.” She finished off hers in short order and did her best not to look back in the box.
He chuckled. “I got them for you. You want more, eat more.”
A second was in her hand. “This is better than sex,” she said after indulging in another bite of a Bavarian cream filled, chocolate covered donut.
“Not been having the right kind of sex then.”
She slashed her gaze to him but didn’t comment.
“What was your last assignment?” He needed to try and engage in conversation before he jumped her. Right?
“We were escorting Diego Martinez back to Mexico where the Federales took over his protection.”
“Serious piece of scum right there.” Drug dealer, human trafficker, all around jackass of the lowest order.
“Can’t say I wasn’t pleased to make him Mexico’s responsibility once more.” She stuck her finger in the cream and sucked it clean.
He prayed to any and all who may be listening, to end this torture sitting here watching her tongue swirl around the tip of her finger before sucking it in between her lips. “And the bruised ribs?”
“Dumbass got the smart idea of bolting before he was handed over. Thought he could overpower me. And I mean, sure he probably could but I’m not there to look good. I was there because I can do my job and am damn good at it.”
There was no disguising the anger in her tone. He pushed to his feet and walked to stand before her. Tipping her chin up, he stared in her eyes. “You are one hell of an agent, if not you wouldn’t have been put up to a Deputy Marshal. Don’t doubt yourself.”
“Hard not to,” she admitted.
He pulled her up and wrapped his arms around her. Christ, she fit against him perfectly. He’d missed this contact. Lowering his face, he covered her mouth with his. Gentle. Soft. Tender. He stroked along the seam of her lips, tasting the donuts she’d ingested.
Her eyes darkened and she wrapped her arms around him, responding without hesitation.
He pushed into her mouth, her tongue was there to meet his. They danced along each other, stroking, lapping, twining. He wound his arms around her waist, drawing her tighter still. He’d missed this, she was so passionate about everything. Never hid her emotions. Nor her fire. Patrick slid a hand down her side, cautiously as he didn’t want to aggravate her injury until he could grip her ass.
She lifted a leg and hooked it about is hip. Her core rocked against the iron rod in his pants. Her moans pushed through his blood like flames from the heart of a volcano. He lay her back and covered her with his body.
She stiffened, eyes going wide as she stilled.
He pushed up and stared at her. “What?”
“We just squished that box of pastries all over my back. It’s gooey and slimy.” Her lips twitched. “Oh, my God this is horrible, please get off me. It’s through my shirt onto my skin and creeping into places I don’t want to think about in any way. Raspberry filling isn’t supposed to go some spots and I believe this has violated every last one of those areas.”
He got up and helped her to her feet after. Glancing past her he laughed, sure enough the box was flattened, all the filled donuts were smashed and everywhere. Angling his head to peer over her shoulder, he laughed again at the jelly, cream, dough mixture on her back and inching downward. There was some powdered sugar on her as well.
“Not funny, West.”
“Oh, it kind of is.”
She deadpanned him then reached behind her and flung some at him, hitting him in the face. Her peal of amusement followed. “That’s funny.”
“Woman,” he warned.
She blinked and gave him a saucy grin.
There she was. The woman he’d been able to spend a night with. Not serious.
Patrick lunged for her, wrapping her up in his arms, and taking her down to the bed. They grunted and he rolled her over, pinning her beneath him.
“I’ve missed you, Teena,” he murmured seconds before claiming her mouth.