Text copyright ©2018 Lani Lynn Vale
All Rights Reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Dedication
I’ve dedicated over sixty books and this dedication stuff is still just as hard today as it was in the beginning. Every time I sit down to write this, I wonder about who I will thank this time. My husband, mom, sister, mother-in-law, friends, betas, and editors. I wouldn’t be where I am today without them. Hopefully they know how much it all means to me. In case they forgot, this one is to them—all the people that make this book possible.
Acknowledgements
Photographer: Golden Czermak
Model: Franggy Yanez
Danielle Palumbo—My awesome content editor.
Ellie McLove & Ink It Out Editing—My editors
My mom—Thank you for reading this book eight million two hundred times.
Cheryl, Leah, Kathy, Mindy, Barbara, Diane & Amanda—I don’t know what I would do without y’all. Thank you, my lovely betas, for loving my books as much as I do.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Epilogue
What’s Next?
Other titles by Lani Lynn Vale:
The Freebirds
Boomtown
Highway Don’t Care
Another One Bites the Dust
Last Day of My Life
Texas Tornado
I Don’t Dance
The Heroes of The Dixie Wardens MC
Lights To My Siren
Halligan To My Axe
Kevlar To My Vest
Keys To My Cuffs
Life To My Flight
Charge To My Line
Counter To My Intelligence
Right To My Wrong
Code 11- KPD SWAT
Center Mass
Double Tap
Bang Switch
Execution Style
Charlie Foxtrot
Kill Shot
Coup De Grace
The Uncertain Saints
Whiskey Neat
Jack & Coke
Vodka On The Rocks
Bad Apple
Dirty Mother
Rusty Nail
The Kilgore Fire Series
Shock Advised
Flash Point
Oxygen Deprived
Controlled Burn
Put Out
I Like Big Dragons Series
I Like Big Dragons and I Cannot Lie
Dragons Need Love, Too
Oh, My Dragon
The Dixie Warden Rejects
Beard Mode
Fear the Beard
Son of a Beard
I’m Only Here for the Beard
The Beard Made Me Do It
Beard Up
For the Love of Beard
Law & Beard
There’s No Crying in Baseball
Pitch Please
Quit Your Pitchin’
The Hail Raisers
Hail No
Go to Hail
Burn in Hail
What the Hail
The Hail You Say
Hail Mary
The Simple Man Series
Kinda Don’t Care
Maybe Don’t Wanna
Get You Some
Ain’t Doin’ It
Too Bad So Sad
Bear Bottom MC
Mess Me Up
Talkin’ Trash
How About No
Tyler Cree has never been good at the whole look and don’t touch thing.
From the moment he was old enough to walk on his own two feet, he’s been looking for trouble.
Trouble comes in many forms…quite a few of those forms being of the female persuasion.
Tyler knows what girls want—a bad boy. And he has the bad boy image down pat.
Ex-military—check.
Hot cop—double check.
A bike between his legs and a devil may care attitude—oh, yeah.
All the girls want him, yet none of them will get him—at least not all of him, that is. They can have all they want of a certain appendage, but his heart, however, is not up for grabs. The useless organ inside his chest was broken, battered and mutilated by the one woman he thought would keep it safe.
Spoiler alert: she ripped it to shreds and set fire to the pieces.
To protect himself, Tyler keeps everyone at arm’s length, never letting anyone get too close.
Then Reagan Rose Alvarez barrels into his life, trespassing not only on his property but straight into his abused heart. One glance is all it takes and he’s suddenly thinking things he hasn’t thought for quite some time—thoughts that a man like him should never have about a woman like her.
One moment of weakness is all it takes and suddenly, he has no other choice but to go on the offensive.
Keeping her is the only option now.
It turns out his broken heart isn’t the problem.
But the little she-devil who holds it in the palm of her hands and has no clue just how much power that gives her? Now, that is a problem.
Chapter 1
Never run with a set of bagpipes. You could fall and poke your eye out, or even worse, get kilt.
-Text from Reagan to her dad
Reagan
I looked over at my friend.
“You want me to what?” I asked in surprise.
“Go on a blind date,” she said. “I want to set you up with someone I know you’ll adore.”
I highly doubted I’d adore anyone.
I never did.
I was, by definition, a very shy person.
Until someone pissed me off, then not so much.
But I didn’t think that a blind date would accomplish getting me pissed off—it took a lot for that to happen.
I snorted and turned to face Janie fully. “I don’t have time to go on a blind date with anyone. Besides, what if he’s a serial killer?”
Janie gave me a droll look. “He’s not a serial killer. In fact, he’s a cop.”
Like that was any better?
I winced. “I’m not dating a cop.”
I refused.
That was a big fat no. I would not, under any circumstance, date a cop.
It’s not that I had anything against them. My dad was a cop, after all. However, cops had certain personalities that tended to clash with my wild and free soul.
I was a quiet person. I was a scholar. I was a pain in the ass and on occasion, I did some not so legal things that might get a cop in trouble if they knew about it and didn’t arrest me.
No,
I didn’t do drugs. And no, those things weren’t all that bad.
It’s just that sometimes I got myself in hot water while quenching my thirst for knowledge.
You see, I’m a botanist.
My current job is working for Texas Parks and Wildlife Department investigating the nuisance aquatic plant, hydrilla verticillata. The hydrilla was starting to take over Texas lakes and was proving to be very harmful to the habitat.
I didn’t necessarily perform anything illegal for the state, but I did sometimes get caught up in my own investigations and trespass. I get caught up in my brain and forget to pay attention. OK, I did that often. But it was on my own time when I was researching my own things—such as a type of moss that grew on the trees near the lake that belonged to the state.
Not intentionally, though.
“Are you even listening to me?” Janie asked, sounding exasperated.
I looked at my friend and sighed. She knew precisely when I was listening—and when I wasn’t.
She’d been my friend since I was a young girl. I couldn’t recall a time when she wasn’t around—well, until lately, that is, since she moved to this town and promptly started luring the rest of the kids that’d grown up with us this way.
“No.” I didn’t even bother trying to lie. “I don’t want to go out on a date. I want to go watch some Sam and Dean on Netflix. If I go out on a date, that’s possibly three episodes that I wouldn’t get to watch.”
“Okay,” she said. “Say it with me now. Sam and Dean from Supernatural are not real.”
I flipped her off. “I know it’s not real, Janie. I just like to watch them and there’s nothing wrong with that.”
She narrowed her eyes. “If you don’t come, I’ll make you regret it.”
I sighed again.
“Fine.” I crossed my arms. “When?”
She smiled brightly. “Six. At the Taco Shop. We’re bringing Cora, June, Johnny and a couple other people…maybe our husbands if we can get them to say yes.”
I looked over at Kayla, Janie’s best friend for forever and snorted.
Kayla was asleep on the couch, her mouth hanging half open as drool started to leak out of it.
“You should probably capture this moment,” I said. “That’d make a good profile picture.”
Janie reached for her phone and snapped a few, then looked at me expectantly.
I waved at her. “Fine.”
That’d give me six hours to get some work done. My upcoming master’s thesis would be perfect…I just needed a little more information.
***
I was ankle deep in mud—on someone’s property, perilously close to that someone’s home—and I was on my haunches looking at the moss that was growing on the trunk of a tree.
I’d just scraped off a sample of it into a petri dish and taped it up when I heard a male clearing his throat behind me.
I looked over my shoulder to see a very sexy man, his arms crossed, standing at the foot of his dock.
And when I say sexy, I meant the kind of sexy that gave a girl a full body quiver causing her to forget to breathe for a second. Yeah, that kind of sexy.
He was tall, built, and tattooed.
He had longer brown/black hair and a trimmed beard covering the lower half of his face, but I could definitely see that he had an angular jaw and beautiful lips.
His legs were braced apart, encased in a pair of tight blue jeans that left very little to the imagination—such as he let his junk lean to the left and his thighs were muscular.
The t-shirt that he wore was stretched like a second skin over a taut chest that looked like it’d been honed inside of the gym during what were obviously frequent and vigorous workouts.
He had bright blue eyes lined by long, dark eyelashes that I would need several coats of mascara and possibly the addition of fake lashes, to have any hope of achieving that length.
And his foot was tapping in his muck boots as he looked at me incredulously.
How had he gotten all the way down to the dock without me hearing him coming?
I waved.
He scowled.
“This is private property,” he said.
I stood up and winced when my knees popped.
When I was a young girl, I’d started playing softball.
I was good, too.
I’d even made the Olympic team.
I hadn’t gone, though. Why you ask, would a person turn down an Olympic team begging for you to play for them?
Well, it wasn’t by choice. My choice, anyway.
My boyfriend at the time had begged and pleaded with me not to accept their offer. He didn’t like that I’d be in Arizona for at least six months training with the team.
When I’d told him I was going anyway, he got angry and purposely crashed the car that we were in and shattered every single one of my dreams in the process.
My knee had suffered the most damage and at the age of twenty-one, my softball career had officially ended.
Four years later and I was still trying to figure out a way for my knee not to hate me when the weather changed or I overdid the exercise.
I started trudging out of the woods without another word, slinging my backpack onto my shoulders as I did.
If I hurried, I might make it to the blind date on time. I had about a half-mile walk back down to the public access boat ramp and from there, it was about a mile and a half down the road to the property that I was renting for the spring and summer.
“You do realize that the entire five acres that you’ll be walking through to get to the main road is someone else’s property, correct?” the man asked, interrupting my thoughts.
I shrugged.
Yeah, I knew.
Although, if I had been on the outer five feet of this particular section of land, I wouldn’t be on that person’s property…but, unfortunately, that was currently under water from all the rain we’d been getting, so, yes, I was trespassing, again.
“You do know how to use big girl words, don’t you?”
Alrighty then. The sexy man was also a dick.
I turned and gave him my eyes.
I didn’t say anything, but I did give him the stink eye.
His lips twitched in amusement.
He found my anger funny?
Nice.
I turned around and continued to walk, but his voice stopped me once again.
“Did you steal something?” he asked.
This time, though, he wasn’t by the dock where he had been standing. He was on the ground, in the mud right along with me.
I looked at him over my shoulder and said, “No.”
“I saw you put something in your bag,” he pushed.
I dropped my backpack off one shoulder and then reached into the pocket with the moss that I’d put in a petri dish and showed it to him.
He took the dish out of my hands and before I could reach for it, he had the thing open.
Once he’d taken my moss, he handed the dish back.
“Next time, don’t steal.” He paused. “Or possibly ask permission to be on someone’s property.”
I narrowed my eyes to dangerous slits that clearly relayed my unhappiness.
But, he was right.
I was on his property.
But dammit! I’d have to come back later on tonight to get that moss, because I needed it for my thesis.
I had a few tests I wanted to run on it and currently his trees were the only ones I could reach from my house since the damn lake was so flooded.
I stomped a little harder than I should have and felt the mud slosh up the side of my boots and start leaking down inside.
God. Dammit.
I turned around and was going to glare at the man and possibly ask for belated permission, but he was gone.
I halted, tempted to turn around and snatch some more moss, but as soon as I had my foot turned in the opposite direction, his voice
stopped me.
“Don’t even think about it,” he growled.
That came from in front of me.
I jumped, whirled and lost my footing, ending up ass first in the cool mud.
I breathed through clenched teeth and looked up at the smiling man.
Was throat punching illegal?
I should probably move off of his property before I did that though since it wouldn’t look good for me if I was arrested.
And my dad would be pissed. Again.
Not to mention, I might get a criminal record and then I’d lose my scholarship.
I stood up—without the bastard’s help—and started on my way again.
This time I didn’t stop at his taunts. I just kept walking until I reached the boat ramp.
Then, once I was at a part that had concrete and I could wash myself off, I waded into the lake, washing the mud off my boots, shorts and lower half of my shirt.
Once they were clean, I walked back up the boat ramp, took my boots off and emptied the water out of them.
Once I had them back on, I stripped the shirt from my body and tucked it into the back of my waistband.
Then I resumed my trek home.
All the while, I was very much aware of the man’s eyes on me.
He watched me go and I felt his eyes watching me, gaze boring into my back until I was out of sight.
Only then did I look over my shoulder.
***
I walked into the restaurant, very much aware that I was well on my way to being over half an hour late.
I did not want to be there.
Which was why I was wearing my white tank top that said, Sorry I’m late. I didn’t want to come.
It seemed fitting and hopefully my blind date would get the message that I was not happy about being here and didn’t want anything to do with him or this situation.
Unfortunately, I’d do just about anything for Janie.
Even go out on a date that I didn’t want to go on.
I pulled the door open and inhaled deeply, relishing in the scent of tacos and spices.
I loved food.
I loved food so much that I planned my day around good food.
For instance, today I got up early because I knew that it was the special day at the gas station—two bacon, egg and cheese taquitos for the price of one. But you had to get there early, because if you didn’t, they’d be all sold out.
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