by Susan Stoker
Thank God Jack was there to run interference before she asked the sexy cowboy to turn around so she could check out his ass.
“Jack Hendershot. It’s great to meet you.” He held out his hand and the men greeted each other.
“Wes King. Likewise.” Then he turned to Laine. “You don’t look like any photographer’s assistant I’ve ever seen. Mackenzie?”
She shook her head. “Oh no, I’m Laine, spelled l-a-i-n-e. No y at the end. Laine Parker. Mackenzie is my best friend. She couldn’t make it today. I was only coming to keep her company, but then she bailed on me and begged me to still come so you wouldn’t feel weird about being half naked with Jack.”
Laine froze and forced herself to stop talking. Oh my God. She sounded exactly like Mack. She’d obviously picked up some of the other woman’s habit of vomiting out whatever she was thinking when she was nervous. She put her chin down and a hand on her forehead, refusing to look at the man who’d scrambled her brains. She’d never been so embarrassed in all her life.
Wes chuckled, and Laine couldn’t help but notice his laugh was just as sexy as the rest of him. “I have to be honest and say I’m extremely glad you aren’t Mack.”
“You are?” Laine looked at Wes.
He nodded. “Yup. ’Cos I know Mackenzie is taken. It’s good to meet you, Laine Parker.”
Laine stared at his outstretched hand for a beat, trying to process what he’d just said. He was glad she wasn’t Mack because she was taken? Did that mean he had the same immediate attraction to her that she’d had to him? She held out her hand automatically and inwardly groaned at the feel of his calloused hand against her smooth one. Jesus, even his hands were sexy.
Jack nudged her with his shoulder, almost knocking her over, before saying to Wes, “I think this’ll work just fine. Do you have any objections to me setting up in here? I need to get my stuff from the car, but it’ll just be a few lights to make sure the photos aren’t too dark and a reflector disc. I think if we use one of the stalls, it’ll be a great backdrop. Maybe afterward we can go outside and find one more location as well, just in case.”
“No problem.”
“Thanks, I’ll be right back.”
Laine’s head whipped up and she was going to offer to help, so as not to be left alone with this man who made her feel way too much, but Jack was already out the door and headed to his car. She looked at Wes and stuffed both hands in her back pockets to try to prevent herself from doing something crazy, like running her palms up and down his glistening chest.
“So . . . you’re a cowboy.” She mentally smacked herself in the forehead. She was such a dork.
“Yup, among other things. You want to meet Star?”
Assuming he meant the pregnant mare, Laine nodded, thankful he wasn’t going to bring up her inappropriate behavior, and that he was keeping whatever it was between them at a low simmer. She shouldn’t have been surprised though, not really. This man was a Texas Ranger . . . not a twenty-two-year-old kid straight out of college. He was far too suave to say or do something either demeaning or juvenile.
Wes stood back with an arm out, obviously telling her to precede him. Not wanting to seem rude, Laine headed for the stall, all the while conscious that Wes was behind her. Was he looking at her ass? No. He wouldn’t do that . . . would he? She looked back at him. Yup, he was totally checking out her butt.
The thought made her stumble and she would’ve fallen face first into the hay and dirt at her feet if Wes hadn’t caught her elbow.
“Careful.”
“Sorry. Wasn’t watching where I was going.”
Grateful he refrained from commenting further on her clumsiness, she arrived at the gate to Star’s stall. Wes leaned up against the door and gestured for Laine to step up on the bottom rung so she could reach over the rails.
“How much longer does she have?” Laine asked, reaching out a hand to pet the beautiful chestnut-brown horse who eagerly came to the door of her stall to greet them.
“Anywhere from a month to a month and a half.”
“That much? She looks huge.”
“Yeah, but it’s actually normal for a horse her size. Here, give her this.” Wes held out a carrot he’d grabbed from a bucket behind him. “She’ll be your friend for life. She’s addicted to them.”
Laine held out her hand and took the vegetable from Wes. She held it out to the mare and laughed as Star’s horsey lips brushed against her palm when she took it from her. “She’s beautiful.”
“Yeah.”
Laine looked over at Wes. He wasn’t looking at the horse, but at her. She immediately felt as if she was fourteen again and Timmy James had told her he thought she was the prettiest girl in school.
“I’m thinking the last stall will work.”
Jack’s words broke through the spell weaving itself between Wes and Laine. She laughed nervously and stepped off the rail, brushing her palms against her jeans. “What can I do to help?” she asked Jack, hoping he had something for her to do that wouldn’t entail her drooling over the man in front of her.
“Here, take this,” Jack told her, handing her a silver reflector panel. “It’ll only take me about five minutes to set up over here.”
Laine grabbed the large, spherical reflector panel that looked like an oversize sun screen people used in their cars. She wandered over to the last stall, watching Jack as if it was the most interesting thing she’d ever seen.
She was completely tongue-tied and had no idea what to say to Wes. She’d been attracted to men before, but not like this. There was something about him that made her lady parts sit up and take notice.
The only thing that made her feel less guilty about the entire situation was that it seemed as though Wes was feeling some of the same things she was. Every time she glanced at him, he was watching her. She couldn’t take her eyes off him, and apparently, it was a mutual thing.
Finally, Jack was ready.
“Okay, chicks dig the hat and rope thing, so I’m thinking that’s the route we should go. Do you have a preference for if your face is shown in the picture or not?”
“Is that an option?” Wes asked seriously.
Jack shrugged. “Sure. I mean, I don’t think any of the other guys cared if their faces were seen or not. The FBI guy said he wasn’t going to be doing any more undercover gigs, and the others thought it might be good for their dating life or the image of their respective departments. But it’s up to you.”
“What do you think?” Wes asked Laine.
“Me?” The word came out as a squeak.
“Yeah, you. What do you find sexier? A faceless cowboy or one where you can see his eyes along with the rest of his body?”
“Um . . . well, it depends.”
“On?”
Laine didn’t really want to get into it, but both Wes and Jack were looking at her in expectation.
“On whether or not I was married or dating.”
“Go on,” Wes encouraged when she didn’t elaborate.
“I don’t know why it makes a difference, but if you must know . . . if I was with someone, I think I’d prefer to not see a model’s face. It would allow me to put my own guy’s face onto the model . . . so when I fantasized, I’d see the man I loved instead of a stranger.”
“And if you were dating the model? Would you prefer single women who bought the calendar to fantasize about a random body or your boyfriend?”
Holy. Crap. Laine couldn’t take her eyes away from the hot-as-all-get-out man in front of her. Was he serious? She wasn’t sure. But she couldn’t help but be honest with him. “If I was dating someone and they were having their picture taken for a sexy publication that I knew horny women of all ages were going to buy to drool over . . . I’d prefer his face to be hidden so he’d be anonymous. They could enjoy his body, but I’d want his face to be all mine.”
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 husk
y 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.
3
“You 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?”