by Jodi Linton
Chapter Ten
Gunner
I’d caught Laney stripping.
And hell, the strip club bouncer she’d been shaking her behind for had been slapped one too many times with the ugly stick. At least the competition was at a minimum. I couldn’t say the same thing for the shit bag stationed at twelve o’clock. Once this case was a wrap, I was due a very long vacation. And maybe a twelve-pack.
She stalked by again with a glare so cold it could’ve cut through a diamond. Two red stilettos tripped and the sexiest-as-fuck ass shot into view. Damn, was Laney a looker. I had every intention of taking her home, bending that ass over a knee, and giving it a good hard spanking. But first, I needed to put every drooling lawman within a mile radius out of their misery.
When I’d spotted her inside the strip club trying to crawl away half naked, I decided to work my smooth moves on the only gal ever able to crush my heart more than the deaths of my parents. Hell. I’d made up my mind to go for broke and agree with Laney on her assessment of me being a horse’s ass, then stand back and watch that cute little nose of hers crinkle into a cock-stirring smile. But then I saw that motherfucker touching her. And the only thought crossing my mind was that I would have believed my boss if he told me Redbud confessed to murdering those couples before I’d have believed my freaking girlfriend had been painting the town red with one Federal Marshal Colt Larsen. Goddamn, this was not happening. I couldn’t even grovel on hands and knees, begging Laney to blow me, and yet Larsen had her stripping inside a seedy titty bar. What a goddamn fucking nightmare.
I whipped off my hat and paced a minute longer, thinking about how to act on my next line of attack. Probably pulling another dick move wouldn’t help my predicament with the woman of my dreams. Months ago I’d chosen to take the lead on the Redbud case. Without blinking an eye, I’d gladly sold my soul in order to find the means to an end. Because I knew the swinger case and Redbud somehow tied into my parents’ death. Damn bastard. All that it’d awarded me was a girlfriend hell-bent on teaching me a lesson and one pain-in-the-ass stiff neck that still hadn’t adjusted to the motel bed. Kicking off the bitter taste of denial, I slapped the hat back on my head and strutted over to the newly appointed man on my chopping block.
Most of the time my temper won out over my common sense.
“Damn prick!” I yelled at the ass-groping marshal. “What the hell made you think it was a good idea bringing my girlfriend to a strip club?”
Colt jumped to his boots. “Always knew you were a bastard.” He adjusted the collar of his jacket and took a step. “Guessing you no longer wanted the competition anymore, Wilson. It must be much easier ending your feud with Wagner by using the muscle behind your ranger badge.”
“Watch it, Larsen.”
And wasn’t it peachy my superiors were on standby, witnessing the whole pathetic fallout—me getting all bent out of shape over a girl like some horny teenager fixing to experience his first blow job—and yeah, it wasn’t lost on me that I was standing outside the same damn titty bar I’d hit up on my twenty-first birthday. The same fucking one that caused Laney to get all drunk with Luke Wagner on the back of his tailgate.
Screwed didn’t even come close to describing me.
Colt snorted, the amusement plastered all over his satisfied expression. “Why else come up with some shitty excuse to get Wagner off the streets?”
“This case is way more complicated than an old rivalry between me and Wagner.”
The federal marshal smiled. “Keep telling yourself that, Ranger. But you and I both know how much you hate Luke Wagner. You made that pretty clear back in the Houston office.”
I grumbled, trying to suppress the anger making a home in my gut. “How about we begin with why your ass is back in Pistol Rock.”
His grin widened. “Thought you knew I came back to show your girl a good time.”
That did it. My fist shot out on its own accord, and if Colt hadn’t been anticipating the punch I’d have slugged him right across the jaw.
Colt secured his hat back in place. “Glad to see you still care about her.” He lowered his voice. “Because Laney’s worth the trouble, and it’d be smart of you to remember that.”
I stared a moment at a man I’d considered a threat more than a friend on many occasions, and I was fixing to address his comment when red high heels stalked by and stalled next to the marshal, deterring my train of thought.
“What the hell, Gunner Wilson.” She fitted a pair of brown eyes mirroring that pissy stare off on the day a load of rock salt found my ass. “You can’t go around taking a swing at every guy who cops himself a feel.”
Like hell I couldn’t.
“Taking up a new line of work, sweetheart?” I seethed. Not one of my finest moments.
Laney gave me a dirty little smile. “Guess you didn’t enjoy me walking out on you last night?”
“Whoa,” Colt butted in. “This is where I tell ya it was nice hanging out with you, but I’ll just be on my way. Pretty sure one of those Bristol Mills girls has my number.”
My girl whirled on those spiky heels that were already becoming a menace to my throbbing cock. “Don’t you dare walk out and leave me with this one, Colt Larsen”—she thumbed in my direction—“unless you want to be posting my bail on murder charges.”
“So Laney hooked you up at Perkins’s place, huh?” I turned on Colt. “Meet us at the ranger station, Larsen.” Somewhere in the distance heels click-clacked along the pavement. “Oh, no, you don’t, sweet’ems. You and I still need to discuss some things.” My hand grabbed at the only lady to ever own my heart. “Ms. Firecracker will be coming along with me.”
The marshal chuckled. “See you at the ranger station, Briggs.” Colt patted Laney on the shoulder, then walked away.
Mouth open and face in shock, Laney shoved a hand into my chest. “You can’t just order me around, Wilson.”
Pushing my hat up along my forehead, I rocked onto the toes of my boots and whispered against her ear, “Hell I can’t, sweetheart. After last night, I do believe I’ve awarded myself a moment to boss your cute ass around.”
That did my sassy deputy in, because she spun around, pummeling a red-nailed fist into my jaw.
And hell, I couldn’t deny it. I was damn proud of the punch she’d packed, so it really sucked I’d have to arrest her on assault. Hell, who was I kidding? Slapping the cuffs on Laney would be the highlight of my day.
I shook out my jaw. “That uppercut of yours is getting damn impressive.”
Her mouth formed a grim line; the worried expression alone told me she knew exactly where this conversation was heading. “Oh, hell no, Gunner Wilson.” Laney tried to make a break for it and turned, only to fall forward, nose planting in my chest. With hands snugly wrapped around my upper arms, her eyes fluttered upward and that adorable red-stained mouth parted. “You really are going to do it, aren’t you?”
I silently nodded.
She blew out a breath, her silky touchable locks falling about her flushed cheeks, leaving behind an enticing I-might-have-just-been-doing-the-dirty look. “Hope you understand you’re digging that hole deeper in the doghouse.”
Reaching to my waist, I unhooked the cuffs, grinning from ear to ear. “Sweetheart, my motto is go deep or go home.” Then I unlatched them and began to read the cute deputy in front of me her rights. “Deputy Laney Briggs, you are under arrest for assaulting a Texas Ranger.”
She stuck out her wrists. “Stop looking so smug, asshole.”
Some days my job kicked ass.
It’d been ten minutes since I’d shoved Laney into the backseat of my Yukon to wait for me to finish interviewing the guy who had been watching her strip at the titty bar. Ten minutes since she’d finally stopped shouting, “Hey, cowboy, you’re a horse’s ass.” Although I’ll admit that one got me a few thumbs-up from the other rangers. And ten minutes since I had sat down at the table inside the strip club across the way from the dude Laney was attempting to r
eenact Flashdance for. But hey, I hadn’t touched the Peeping Tom. Yet my patience was slowly biting the dust, along with my calm demeanor.
The bouncer—a man who could pass as a bulldozer and who’d been ogling my girlfriend’s ass earlier—hunched over on his elbows, rattling the cuffs on the table when he slipped back in his chair. “I can offer you a free lap dance.” His upper lip curled as he tried not to break out into laughter. “Well, I could have…but you and your boys interrupted the sweet piece of ass I was fixing to experience.”
That comment made me see red. Jaw clenched and fists balled in my lap, I cocked my head at the ranger near my side and motioned for a little alone time. As soon as he wandered off into a dark corner, I edged closer to the ass-gawking prick’s face. “My partner over there thinks we should go easy on you, seeing how you’re just a simple strip club bouncer.”
Bouncer nodded. “I agree.”
I crunched a knuckle and smiled. “See, the thing is, I’m sort of disappointed in how quickly you rolled over when pressured by a lawman.” Bouncer looked concerned, and the way he was fidgeting with the napkin near his elbow told me he’d crack soon. “I’m thinking once your boss hears about you spilling insider secrets to a Texas Ranger he won’t be so happy with you.”
“I haven’t said a goddamn thing.”
“Well, it’s not like your boss needs to know that.”
He shot back in his chair and leveled me with a glare. “Ain’t you supposed to uphold the law or something?”
I grinned. “Boss ain’t here. So it looks like it’s just you and me.” His eyes darted with panic while looking around the room. “And just to get things started on the right foot, that was my girlfriend’s ass you were fixing to experience.”
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
“Devon, right?” I asked, glancing at the paperwork the other ranger had gathered while I’d been busy corralling Laney. He mumbled something incoherent, and damn, did I hate incompetent criminals. I lifted a hand to my ear and shrugged. “Sorry, I’m getting kind of hard of hearing.” I wiggled my ear. “Growing old is worse than taking a piss in a can. You are going to need to speak up, Devon.”
He gritted his teeth. “I said”—he spat—“if Redbud was here, he’d put all y’all pigs out of your misery.”
I scrubbed my chin and let out a sigh. “Really disappointed in you, Devon. I thought you were brighter.” Pushing back in my chair, I casually rose to my boots and gestured at the ranger on point. “Take him down to the station. I’ve got no more use for the asshole.”
“Wait,” the guy in cuffs hollered. “You want Redbud, hell, I can get him for you.”
“Well, go on.”
The line of his mouth hardened. “What’s in it for me?”
I pushed my hat up along my forehead and decided, hell, it’d be fun to play along with the dumbass. “I’ll see about getting my brunette friend to give you that lap dance.”
Green eyes blazed hot. “Redbud’s go-to guy, Gil, will be over at the Broken Barge Bar talking shop and looking for tail to bring to the next swinger party in a few days.”
“Your cooperation has been much appreciated.” And on that I nodded at the other lawman. “Make sure to stick him in a twenty-four-hour holding cell.”
Connors stepped out from under the shadows, the strobe lights danced off his ball cap, making that scar on his right cheek deadly intimidating. “Already put in the call.”
“I thought you were supposed to be the good cop.” Devon informed me of the one thing I held truer than Laney’s love…I’ll always be an asshole. “And what about my damn lap dance?”
“If you want, I can put a word in with your cell buddy and ask him to perform.”
Ignoring his hollering, I exited the strip club and couldn’t help but smile when my gaze fell on Laney shooting me the bird from the backseat of the Yukon.
I really had so much to look forward to.
Chapter Eleven
Laney
A dingy rafter lamp swayed in tune to all the men yelling behind the closed door. I lifted an ass cheek, trying to readjust my damn uncomfortable position. About thirty minutes ago, I’d been fixing to nail down the whereabouts of Danny Redbud. Okay, I’ll admit it. Truth be told it was more likely I’d have lost my panties than sniffed out a lead on Redbud, but still, who the hell did my boyfriend think he was, barging in on my investigation? I mean, he did walk out on me Christmas Day, not even attempting to call foul on the whole goddamn murder arrest he’d slapped Luke Wagner with. Yet he’d felt the need to cuff and haul my ass off to the Odessa ranger station without uttering a word.
I lifted my shackled wrists and banged the cuffs on the table. When there was no sign of the continuous male yelling subsiding, I threw a slight hissy fit—channeling my mother’s charm when she ran out of Marlboro cigarettes—and slammed my cuffed wrist painfully back down onto the wooden table as I screamed at the top of my lungs. “Let me out of these cuffs before I tell the whole station what you allowed me to do to you last weekend!” I paused, listening for the shuffling of boots. “Oh, yeah, Laney. That’s it, sweetheart.” The lock clicked right on cue. “Right there. Yeah, you know where I enjoy that finger,” I purred, kicking the sex kitten mode up a notch.
Immediately the door flung open. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Gunner stepped back inside the prison cell, aka ranger interrogation room, and pulled the door closed, putting a lid on the laughter filtering through the adjacent hallway.
“You’re such a shit,” I blurted out.
“Don’t I know it,” Gunner stated flatly.
“Bastard.”
His eyes widened in surprised. “I just admitted I was a shit. And now I’m a bastard.”
I blew out a pocket of air. “Well, you pissed me off when you admitted you’re a shit.”
He rocked forward on the toes of his black cowboy boots, smiling, and said, “I guess you didn’t see that one coming?”
I dropped a shoulder and decided if he didn’t stop looking at me with those heated eyes, I was gonna have to ask for a potty break. “Fine. You threw me for a loop,” I admitted, getting locked in a trance with his molten, chocolate-brown eyes. “I mean, who’d have thought in my lifetime that I’d witness Gunner Wilson coughing up that he’s a shit.”
He snorted. “You just had to get the final jab in.”
I rolled my eyes. “Maybe,” I conceded. “Why don’t you get to the point as to why I’m still wearing these?” I shook the cuffs in his face. “This is not a good icebreaker to getting me in bed, Wilson.” Eyeing him down, I scooted forward in my chair and continued with the little game of tug-of-war. “Besides, I’m pretty damn busy at the moment, you know, with trying to get Luke’s murder charges dropped and plotting how to skin you alive for arresting him on false pretenses.”
“What else did you expect, darling? God knows why, but you have a major problem butting into other people’s cases.”
“Uncuff me and I’ll get out of your hair then.”
“No,” he growled. “Not until you hear me out.”
Ignoring his smackdown, I leaned over the table and gave him one of my shitty don’t-push-your-luck-stud smiles. “Those dumb charges you slapped me with won’t stick. You and I both know it.”
Running a hand over his jaw darkened with a day-old beard, he muttered under his breath, “I couldn’t risk you getting hurt.”
“This ‘I’m the man and need to protect the damsel’ act ain’t flying.” I dropped my gaze on his scuffed hands, then looked back up at him. “You just didn’t want me calling your bullshit…so risking our relationship happened to be easier in the scheme of things.”
His mouth formed a hard line as his eyes narrowed disapprovingly. “Now, there’s no need to go there.”
I glared at my brooding cowboy. “I’m sorry, would you rather I just shot you in the ass again?” I arched a brow, pretty damn pleased with myself. “Now if you’ll just uncuff me, there’s a marshal wa
iting to escort me home.” My heels hit the hard floor as I bolted toward the interrogation room door. Wrapping my cuffed wrists around the knob, I tugged. It didn’t budge. So I frantically shook the knob, calling over my shoulder at my bullheaded nemesis, “You locked us inside here.”
Gunner dangled the keys into view and chuckled. “Damn straight, I did, sweetheart.” Then he casually threw a muscular arm smack-dab next to my face and rocked forward on the tips of his boots, blocking any form of escape. “We need to chat.” His arm fell from the wall as he angled closer to glide that exact same hand up around my neck, latching on to me like a hangman’s noose. He pulled me forward, smacking my breasts flush into the solid wall of his tight black T-shirt stretched like a second skin across his wide, sturdy chest. That lazy cowboy grin broadened. “Shit, those cuffs make me wish the two us were in our bedroom,” he said, low and hushed, making his deep voice even more troublesome to my already overactive libido.
And yeah, I sighed at that naughty comment like a nympho. And then I got my head back in the game at the sound of Colt Larsen having it out with another ranger behind the door. When it came right down to it, I’d always had a problem with authority. So it came as no surprise to Gunner when I attempted to kick him in the shin.
Truth of the matter, I came up empty-handed, since my heel was met with the sole of one badass black cowboy boot strutting into my personal space. Voice unusually low, Gunner dipped his head, grinned, and said, “You didn’t think I’d gotten slow in my old age?”
“Wasn’t sure.” I shrugged. “I guess now I know, right?”
He shook his head, chuckling. “Sometimes I wonder why I cause myself so much pain,” he drawled. “And then I lay eyes on you, and I remember each and every reason why I’m okay with such a pretty hardship.” Then he wrapped a proprietary arm around my waist and secured me to his side before I had a chance to come back with one of my go-to snippy replies, and walked us back over to the table. “Give me your hands, Laney.”