Shane

by Vanessa Devereaux

  Chapter Two

  Shit, bad start to the day.

  Shane stood, pulled his now damp jeans away from his crotch, and walked to the window. She had a spring in her step as she made her way out to her car. Same car he’d seen on the road this morning when he’d been herding cattle with Flynn and Rory. He’d recognized her the second she’d stepped into his office, but had opted not to say anything. He wondered if she’d even recalled seeing him. If she had, she’d obviously decided not to comment on it either.

  He downed what was left of his coffee and watched her back out of the lot, almost hitting a truck in the process. Shane tugged on the front of his pants again, but this time it wasn’t because of the wet coffee patch. Feisty women always gave him a hard-on. They were difficult to tame, and that’s what he loved so much about them. Breaking them in like a wild Mustang was half the fun. Lacey Metcalfe had curves too. He liked ladies with some meat on their bones. Something soft and wonderful to bounce against during sex.

  He coughed. His mind was heading into the gutter.

  Shane watched until her car was out of sight before returning to his desk. Grimacing when he sat down, he realized some of the coffee had dripped onto his chair but only after it was too late and he’d already parked his backside on it. The chair was cold, but at least it cooled his balls that had been put on full alert.

  Lacey had left her resume. He looked it over again. He was sorry that he’d offended her, but the truth was she wasn’t a good match for the job. He bit his lip. He would have been reluctant to give it to her even if she was. He had one rule, no dating employees and co-workers. That sort of thing never worked out.

  Leaning back, he grinned. He could imagine summoning her in here to his office, bending her over his desk, pulling down her panties that he was sure were both pretty and pricey.

  “Shane Malone, did you upset that nice young lady?”

  Ruth’s voice snapped him out of his dirty thought. Good thing someone had.

  “She wasn’t right for the job.”

  “She didn’t look happy when she left, and she was mumbling something about a chauvinist pig. I assume she was referring to you.”

  “Come on, Ruth you know me better than that. That’s the last thing a woman would ever call me.”

  She winked at him. “So you found her attractive, is that what bothered you?”

  He didn’t answer. Ruth knew him well, too well for her own good.

  “Did she happen to say where she was staying?” he asked.

  “No, but I could ask around for you.”

  “Great because I think I need to phone and apologize to her. I’d hate her to think all Montana men are like me.”

  “Yes, heaven forbid if they were.” She winked at him again.

  ****

  Lacey raised her glass to let the bartender know she wanted another one of these goodies. The men in Timber Creek might be trapped in the twentieth century, but at least their drinks tasted a hell of a lot better.

  He nodded. “I’ll be right with you,” he called to her.

  She didn’t quite know what she’d ordered. It had looked good sitting in the glass belonging to the old man sitting three seats down from her. The next one the bartender poured her would be her third. Two had always been her max. She usually didn’t drink before the sun set. And drinking this sort of thing on an empty stomach probably wasn’t a good idea either, but the sheriff’s attitude had pissed her off big time. The fact that he was as cute as hell hadn’t taken the edge of his caveman attitude either.

  Pig.

  “You say something, miss?” asked the bartender.

  She blushed, not realizing she’d actually verbalized her opinion of the lawman. She shook her head. “Fill her up and keep them coming,” said Lacey sliding the glass toward him.

  Had she slurred a few of her words? Nope, that wasn’t possible because she’d only had two drinks. She burped, and two men sitting near her looked her way. She blushed for the second time.

  “Excuse me,” she said waving to them.

  The word me was definitely slurred. She didn’t usually burp after drinking either. Although too much beer made her fart. Good thing for the guys seating near her that she’d opted for the hard stuff. She slid a ten dollar bill toward the bartender and had the strange feeling she was getting lightheaded but tried to ignore it.

  “You okay there?” asked the bartender.

  “I am perfectly okay.”

  All four words slurred. Things not looking good.

  “I’m afraid I can’t pour you any more drinks after this one. You’re clearly intoxicated.”

  “Am not.”

  Why didn’t the bartender stand still when he spoke to her? What was wrong with all the men in this town?

  Oops, it’s me who’s moving and not him.

  She got back on the stool. “What’s the problem? Women aren’t allowed to drink here as well as not take jobs in the sheriff’s office?”

  “I can’t speak for Sheriff Malone’s hiring policy, but at Last Stop Bar women are more than welcome. We even have a ladies’ evening with half price drinks.”

  “Oohh, what night’s that?” asked Lacey raising her hand.

  “Is there someone I can call to come and get you and see you safely home?”

  People were starting to stare. Why were they starting to do that? Bunch of old cowboys.

  “I demand another drink. This is America, not some communist regime,” said Lacey, emphasizing her point by stabbing her finger on the bar top.

  “Sorry, no more until you’re sober, and I think it’s going to be awhile until that happens.”

  “I’ve already decided I don’t like you. I won’t be coming here again and will take my business elsewhere,” she said feeling herself falling backwards. She was prepared to land on her ass, but someone caught her just in time.

  She looked up it was him. The chauvinist pig in person.

  Shit, if only he wasn’t so good looking it would make it so much easier to hate him. The cowboy hat made him look like a leading man. If only his attitude wasn’t from the time when men resided in caves, she’d want to crawl into bed with him.

  Forget the caveman attitude. She just wanted to get horizontal with him, period.

  “It’s okay, Ben, I can take it from here,” he told the bartender.

  “I’m not an it,” said Lacey.

  He slid onto the stool beside her. “I wasn’t referring to you, but the situation. Ben’s father called me because he thought you might need some assistance.”

  “I’m perfectly okay.”

  “Glad to hear that.”

  He reached over, took her shot glass and downed the rest of her drink.

  “Hey, I was enjoying that,” she said.

  “Yeah, a little bit too much by the look of things.”

  “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”

  She wasn’t only slurring, some words now sounded like she was speaking in tongues. And how come there were two sheriffs now? “You stole my drink, and they won’t let me have another one.”

  Another burp, but this one louder than the first. And in all honesty she wasn’t feeling that great either. It felt like stomach acid was on spin cycle. And then hot bile rose up in her throat.

  The day was going farther down the toilet. Which is exactly what she needed to use and probably very soon. “I’m going back to my motel room. If no one here has an objection to that. Maybe I have to get a permission slip.”

  She attempted to stand but suddenly her legs felt like they were made out of her mother’s homemade pudding. Shane caught her a mere two inches off the ground.

  “Okay, little lady, let’s get you safely out of here.”

  “I don’t need help. And I’m not anyone’s little lady.”

  He attempted to grab her, but she pushed him away.

  “We can do this the easy way or your way, which I know you’ll regret in the morning.”

  He caught her off guard
the second time around, and she couldn’t fight him when he grabbed her. The other patrons clapped and cheered as Shane slung her over his shoulder like she was a whole side of beef.

  “Put me down this minute and I won’t press charges for police harassment.”

  Too much to drink and her head was now facing down toward the floor. He was asking for trouble. He slapped his hand across her butt, and more cheers rang out in the bar. Two men wolf-whistled him as he waved goodbye.

  “You’re all a bunch of chauvinists. Is this how you treat your women in Timber Creek? If so, my finger chose the wrong place.”

  He put his arm under her butt cheeks and marched toward the door.

  If she didn’t feel so sick, she’d actually find it a turn on.

  Shane pulled the door open with his foot, and once outside a blast of very cold air hit her face. She took a deep breath and burped again.

  “Did you drive or walk here?”

  “Walked, of course. I never drink and drive.”

  “I’m happy to hear that because I tend to come down hard on people who drink and then get behind the wheel in my county.”

  He smacked her on her ass again. She was beginning to like it, but no way in hell would she let him know it.

  “How dare you. I’m definitely filing a complaint with the county, maybe even the state.”

  She burped again.

  “You mean when you’re sober?”

  “I’m not drunk.”

  “Like hell you’re not. I’m going to drive you back to your motel and let you sleep it off.”

  “What if I don’t want to go?”

  “Then I’ll have to arrest you for being drunk and disorderly, and the beds in the cells aren’t very comfortable.”

  “I told you I’m not intoxicated. And you know why I think you’re so macho about everything?” She waved her finger around in front of her face. “I think it’s to compensate for your small penis.”

  It was at that point that her stomach decided it needed emptying. She should have warned him to put her down, but it was too late. She threw up all over the back of his nice sheepskin jacket.

  He set her down gently by his sheriff’s truck and then looked over his shoulder.

  “I’m sorry.” She really was. Even chauvinists didn’t deserve vomit on them.

  She dug around in her bag looking for a tissue but couldn’t seem to find one. He took off his jacket and shook it a few times. What a good thing she hadn’t eaten much since lunchtime. And he was dead right. She really did need that motel room, and most of all, a bed. In fact, any place she could get horizontal.

  “No problem, we’ll get this cleaned up at the motel,” he said.

  He opened the passenger door and helped her in. As he leaned over to secure her seat belt, she got a whiff of his aftershave. Spicy and decadent. Even though her stomach still felt like hell, she leaned closer to his neck and took in more of it. Very nice, and very enticing.

  Lacey knew from past experience when she’d had a little too much to drink her inhibitions went out of the window. She put her hands down by her thighs, willing herself not to do anything silly that she’d regret not only twenty-four hours later, but maybe twenty-four years too.

  He shut the door, raced around to the driver’s side and slide in beside her. Shane turned on the ignition and a blast of a country music filled the air. She’d had enough of that in the bar. It was bad enough when she was sober, so now that she was drunk and felt like shit, it was sheer torture.

  “Hate country music,” she said, pressing a button to find another station.

  “Well, that’s too bad because it’s my truck and I like it.”

  He slapped her hand away and turned it back to the country whine. She stuck her fingers in her ears and hummed Lady Gaga’s Poker Face, hoping it was loud enough for him to hear.

  As he backed out of the parking lot, drunkenness gave way to stupidity. She snatched his cowboy hat and put it on her head. It was too big, but she liked it because the aftershave clung to the band, surrounding her with his scent.

  “I could arrest you for messing with a sheriff’s property.”

  “What sort of place is this town? Arrest me? I only took your hat. Now if I really wanted to mess with an officer of the law, I’d do this.”

  Before she could censor herself, she reached across, put her hand on the obvious mound in the front of his pants and squeezed hard.

  Holy shit, she’d never done anything like that before. Just what the hell did they put in the drinks in Big Sky Country? And she’d definitely been wrong about the small penis. Either her hands were shrinking due to intoxication or he had the biggest one she’d ever touched.

  I want him. I want him so much.

  He turned to look at her. Shit, I think I’ve made him blush.

  “I’m not going to say sorry for doing that, so I guess you’ll just have to arrest me for messing with you, Sheriff.” She held up both her wrists. Yeah wouldn’t she like him to handcuff her, pat her down, and even search some of her body cavities?

  He leaned over and put his face mere inches from hers.

  “If you hadn’t recently thrown up, I’d like to kiss you not arrest you.”

  Chapter Three

  The distance from the bar to the motel was only a five minute drive, but in that short time, Lacey had gone out like a light. She looked so cute with her head pressed against the interior of the truck with her cheek slightly puckered, and her mouth open with snoring sounds escaping from it.

  He’d enjoyed carrying her over his shoulder, with her curvy butt mere inches from his face, more than he could have ever imagined. He’d grown more excited with each step he’d taken with her. And then when she’d grabbed his cock, well, bells and whistles had sounded. When she’d squeezed, he’d almost come in his boxers. It had taken a while for his erection to subside. By the time it had, she’d fallen asleep.

  Now he had to get her up to her motel room. He reached over for her purse and rummaged through it for the key. He blushed when he accidently pulled out a tampon. One of the drawbacks of not having sisters—all the feminine stuff made you turn red. He even hated watching commercials for sanitary pads in mixed company.

  Shane finally found the key and stuck it in his shirt pocket. He got out, walked around to the passenger door, opened it gently, and let her fall into his arms. This time he carried her with his arms under her body just in case she woke up and vomited on him again.

  Luckily, her room was on the first floor and only a few yards away. She mumbled something as he walked toward the door, but he couldn’t quite understand what she was saying. He carefully put her down and leaned her against the wall while he opened the door. He wedged it back with one foot while reaching across and pulling her close to his body so he could get her safely inside.

  Once there, he lifted her into his arms again, walked across the room, and placed her on the bed. He reached for a pillow and stuffed it under her head. Next he took off her shoes. Sexy black pumps that he loved. He set them on the floor and then pulled the covers over her body.

  She’d probably be okay once the booze wore off. Sleep was the best thing for that, but he was going to keep an eye on her just the same. He sat on the bed and pushed a stray hair away from her cheek. She had the longest eyelashes he’d seen. They fluttered as she mumbled something again. She had a big mouth, talked too much and was not his usual sort of woman, but there was something about Lacey Metcalfe he liked a lot. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but maybe in time he would.

  Yeah, he was going to take good care of her whether she liked it or not. While she slept, he’d go get his jacket from the truck and clean it up. After that, he’d settle down in the chair opposite the bed and wait for her to wake up.

  ****

  Lacey opened her eyes and tried to focus. She was in a motel room.

  Now she remembered. The bar, one too many drinks, throwing up on the sheriff, man-handling the sheriff.

  The
sheriff.

  What had she been thinking? The remote chance there was of her getting the job in his office had gone bye-bye when she’d grabbed his cock. Shit, she hadn’t planned for things to go so wrong so quickly.

  She swallowed, but her mouth felt like parchment paper. Guess it was true about alcohol drying out your mucus membranes. At least she was safe in bed and could recall her bad behavior in total peace. At least this time around her embarrassing situation hadn’t been in front of family and friends.

  “You feeling better now?”

  She jumped.

  It can’t be.

  She glanced down the end of the bed, and there he was sitting in a chair. His feet, now minus those very sexy brown suede cowboy boots, resting on the edge of the mattress while he held a magazine in his hands.

  Lacey quickly raised the blanket up and covered her body. Just in case.

  She glanced underneath it. Thank god, she was dressed which meant they hadn’t done anything silly. Well at least she hoped she hadn’t.

  She tried to focus on the clock by the bedside table but was still too sleepy or hung over to see clearly. “What time is it?”

  “Almost seven.”

  “At night?”

  “Yes, at night.”

  Lacey sat up some more and leaned her back against the bedhead. Every part of her hurt.

  “I have a killer headache,” she said, rubbing her temples.

  “I’m not surprised,” he said closing the magazine.

  “Yeah, I know, it was my own fault. Have you sat there the whole time I’ve been sleeping?”

  He put the magazine down on the bed and shifted his feet, planting them on the floor as he looked across the bed at her. She probably looked a mess.

  “Yeah, all three and a half hours. And you snore big time.”

  She was about to say she didn’t, but her ex had always complained about it.

  “My sinuses act up now and then.” See there was a medical reason for it. You couldn’t tease a person for that sort of thing.

  She’d love to know if Shane snored too. That would mean maybe sleeping in the same room, possibly the same bed to find out.