Skirting one last person about ten feet before the man, I slowed.
My steps went quieter, and I studied the man’s back.
His backside.
If his face was anything like his butt, he’d be breathtaking.
I couldn’t begin to thank the Lord enough for the invention of Wrangler jeans.
There was no way that the guy was cute, though. Not with a body like that. Surely God wasn’t that generous.
From the back he was breathtaking.
He was wearing a white t-shirt tucked into a pair of dark-washed tight—and by tight, I mean so tight I bet he had to jump and shimmy to get into them—jeans that were on the closest side to ‘snug’ as you could get.
He had on a pair of brown boots that were nothing special, but with one glance I could tell that they were his nice ones.
These were clean… and the man didn’t strike me as the type of man that didn’t get his boots dirty.
His hands were rough, those I could see because he had them interlocked behind his back, making his shoulders appear even broader than what they would normally appear as.
His brown cowboy hat nodded every few seconds, his head slanted downward to watch the pen that was underneath him.
And what I saw in that pen made my heart start to hammer, and a gasp to escape from my mouth.
“Holy shit,” I breathed, my eyes on the bull as I moved forward to get a better look.
At first, I didn’t notice that I was close to the man at the very end of the wooden plank walkway.
My eyes were all for the massive bull that was really pissed off.
In fact, I was nearly on top of Mr. Valentine before I knew it.
Glancing up quickly at the closeness of the man, I stopped at his side without ever taking my eyes off the massive bull.
I felt more than saw his head turn to survey me, but I couldn’t keep my gaze from the black beast below me.
“Jesus,” I breathed when that bull pawed the red dirt underneath his feet. “Jesus.”
The man at my side didn’t say anything as we both watched the animal stalk the cage like a large cat instead of a bull, and it was only when the announcer above us informed the arena that the bidding would start in twenty minutes, and that all entering animals should enter them in the next ten minutes, that I became unstuck.
“Oh!” I cried. “I need your help!”
Finally, I turned to the man beside me, and my breath stalled in my chest when I got my first good look at Mr. Valentine.
He wasn’t an old man.
Far from it, in fact.
He was gorgeous.
Beyond gorgeous.
“Are y-you Mr. Valentine?” I asked for confirmation when the man didn’t reply to my outburst.
Please don’t be him. Please don’t be him.
The man’s beautiful head nodded, his brown cowboy hat bobbing with his ascent.
And those eyes of his.
They weren’t brown.
They were like glowing orbs of amber lit with something shimmery and darker golden. Like lions’ eyes.
I’d never seen anything like them before.
But no, his eyes weren’t plain boring brown. They were other.
“I am. You Spears’ granddaughter?” he asked.
I nodded mutely, unable to unstick my tongue from the roof of my mouth.
“You got the cows dropped off yet?” he continued, not bothered in the least by my proximity like I was to his.
I shook my head.
“Let’s go get it done, then,” he said, leading the way.
His long legs ate up the distance, and I had to practically run to keep up with him.
I idly wondered if me falling from this height would kill me, and then nearly laughed when I decided that even if the fall didn’t kill me, the bull in the pen I fell into would.
I’d just made it about halfway when Mr. Valentine made it to the end.
Almost as an afterthought, he turned to see where I was and scowled when he realized I wasn’t right behind him.
See, I was five foot nothing. In fact, if you asked my doctor, I was four feet eleven inches. I rounded up to five because I could.
My legs were about half the size of Mr. Valentine’s, and I would never be able to keep up with that man even when he was walking slow.
He waited almost impatiently at the end of the walkway, then held his hand out to me the moment I arrived at him.
“Keys,” he snapped.
I quickly foraged for my keys in my back pocket and handed them to him.
He frowned at the huge set of keychains I had on my keyring, then rolled his eyes and walked away.
I watched him go, wondering whether I should try to go with him or not.
When he stopped about halfway to the truck and turned to see where I was, I decided that most likely I was supposed to follow.
Running now, I caught up to him, and immediately stopped once I reached him.
“They’re gonna need your signature,” he muttered when he walked me to the passenger side of the truck.
I nodded and got in, using the step on the side of the truck and the OS handle (oh shit handle) to climb in and plant my booty in the seat.
He slammed my door shut, quickly walked around the hood, and hopped in. I breathed deeply at the smell of him that permeated my senses due to his proximity and turned to survey him settling into the seat.
He had drops of rain gathered on his hat, and his hands were also wet.
The white shirt he had on became transparent in the spots that the rain hit him.
I tore my eyes away and looked out the window, trying to ignore the way the muscles in his arms bunched and lengthened as he turned the wheel.
“Thank you, Mr. Valentine,” I whispered.
He turned to me before hopping out of the truck and said one word that changed my life. “Ace.”
I followed him, thankful that the portion of the loading dock that we were now in had a covered area where we could unload the cows into the chutes without drenching ourselves.
Except once I’d signed the papers, I didn’t have to do a damn thing. Ace wouldn’t let me.
“Go stand over there, out of the way,” he ordered angrily.
My brows furrowed.
“Did I do something wrong?” I asked.
“You should’ve never put that bull that close to in heat cows,” Ace chastised me. “He could’ve really hurt himself or them.”
“I didn’t have much choice,” I said. “Granddad made me do it this way. He was worried if I had to make two trips, the truck wouldn’t make it.”
Ace’s eyes flared.
“Could’ve called me, I would’ve come and taken it. Stubborn bastard,” he growled.
I bared my teeth. “Don’t call my granddad names.”
His eyebrows lifted in surprise.
“What?” I asked.
“You’re pretty mouthy for such a small thing,” he said.
My mouth dropped open.
“You should really not talk. It’d help you stay sexy,” I muttered darkly.
His white teeth flashed. “Is that so?”
I nodded.
“You’re done, Valentine,” a man called from behind us, handing Ace a slew of papers, which Ace immediately turned over to me.
“These are yours. They have your numbers on them,” he informed me.
I nodded and took them, tucking them into my bag.
“Can you get the trailer from here?”
I nodded my head. I could.
I had no clue where to go, but I could do it.
He must’ve followed my thoughts, because he sighed and took my hand, once again leading me to the side of the truck and helping me into the passenger side.
He took us both around to the same spot I’d been in before, expertly parallel parking it into the exact same spot I’d been in previously.
&n
bsp; I had to say, his skill at backing a trailer was extremely impressive.
Not that I would actually say that to him. He didn’t need to know.
“You know where to go now?” he asked.
I nodded.
He handed me my keys, then got out of the truck, leaving me without another word.
Fries Before Guys
2-11-20
Prologue
I really don’t mind getting older. But my body is taking it badly.
-Coffee Cup
Derek
I don’t want to do a fucking picture for a calendar, Dad.
Those had been the words that I’d said to my father, the chief of police, two weeks ago.
Yet here I found myself, getting myself photographed, in a motherfuckin’ bed.
Or, at least, there was a fucking bed in the room.
“I am not getting in that bed,” I said to no one in particular.
Dax, who was coming out of the room as I was going in it, rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry. I got in the bed. I’m sure she’ll make you do something else… like get naked in the shower.”
I snorted. “I’m not doing that, either.”
“Don’t get too excited,” a soft, feminine voice said from somewhere in the room. “I’d planned on a totally different look for Mr. February.”
Dax slapped me on the shoulder and shut the door behind him as he left, leaving me giddy to see the owner of that voice.
Except, when I finally got a good look at the lone figure sitting on the bed, her back to me, my excitement deflated.
Because on the bed was Avery Flynn.
A teenager.
The nineteen-year-old photographer who was doing this photoshoot today for free.
That wasn’t to say that she wasn’t very talented. She was.
But she was also in high school and dressed—as well as acted—like a nerd.
Avery Flynn was well known to the officers of Kilgore Police Department. But not because she was bad or anything—at least not to my knowledge.
The reason for her notoriety was that Avery Flynn was a cop’s kid.
A cop’s kid times two.
Her mother, Rhonda Flynn, had been killed while heading home from a shift by a drunk driver. She’d died after two harrowing days on life support.
She would’ve died the first day, but Rhonda had always been a helper. A person of quality and life. And Avery had decided that Rhonda’s viable organs needed to be donated.
It’d taken her twenty-four hours to convince Rader, her father, to donate.
Rhonda had saved eight lives in the following days. Her heart, kidneys, lungs, liver, small bowel, and pancreas had all been donated to seven different people. The heart even to a young man right here in Kilgore, Texas.
A young man who had been the boyfriend of a town mean girl who didn’t like the attention that Avery got from the young man after his surgery. The young girl had then set out to make Avery’s life a living hell before she’d filed a restraining order against her, forcing the girl to stay five hundred feet away from Avery at all times.
Which was tough seeing as they both went to the same high school.
Avery’s father hadn’t been around for the bullying. But it hadn’t mattered.
When Kilgore had lost one of its own, the town had rallied around his only child, making sure that the case was taken on pro bono by the lawyers. Then going even further to attend each and every trial day. Sometimes the judge would look into his courtroom and see more than half of the seats occupied by an officer.
So yes, to say Avery Flynn was loved by the cops of this city would be an understatement.
Which was why I looked at her and immediately dismissed her.
She was a cute girl, but cuteness only got you so far.
And she was still in high school.
So yeah, I was staying very far away from that.
I was so caught up in what I was thinking—Avery to be specific—that I didn’t pay attention to the girl who was no longer sitting on the bed.
“Ready?”
I blinked, looking down at the woman—no, teenager—who was staring at me.
She reminded me of one of those nerdy anime chicks. The ones that were fabricated and staged.
She had on a pair of black leggings that fit her shapely legs like a glove. They came to a stop right below her calves, exposing about four inches of milky white skin before her black Chucks with red skulls printed on them came into view.
I had to admit, the skulls were pretty cute. Even if a bit childish.
And why the hell was I having a problem looking away from her ankle bones? Ankle bones weren’t sexy… at least they hadn’t been before Avery.
“I’m thinking we’ll go outside to the cruiser for your shoot,” she said, startling me out of the contemplation of her ankle bones.
I reluctantly slipped my way back up her body, pausing slightly on her t-shirt.
It was black like her leggings but had bold white lettering that said ‘Klingon Captain’ on it.
The shirt was so fucking baggy that I couldn’t make out a single thing.
Not the shape of her waist, or the curve of her breasts. Hell, I could almost make out her collarbone, though. Her shirt was very nearly hanging off of one shoulder. But her long, thick black hair was blocking it from my view.
Long black hair that was falling in waves around a beautiful face. Perfect, kissable lips.
“Is that okay, Mr. Roberts?” Avery asked.
My eyes finally met hers. Eyes that I’d been avoiding since I knew they were so fucking pretty.
This was the real reference to anime, in my opinion.
Avery’s eyes were so fucking blue—an intense blue that just rocked you when you looked into them—that they reminded me of those girls on anime. Where their single most defining features were their eyes.
Eyes that were slightly covered up by large, black-framed glasses that looked as if they took up her entire face.
And then there was the dusting of freckles right underneath those big, beautiful blue eyes.
“Derek?” she pushed. “Are you okay?”
I blinked, snapping out of my thoughts.
“Yeah, outside is fine,” I finally settled on, trying to get my shit straight.
I couldn’t be having these kinds of thoughts about a woman this young.
I certainly couldn’t be having these thoughts about a woman that was still in high school. I know there weren’t that many years between us, but just the idea that she was only a senior made me feel old.
“Where do you want me?” I asked curiously.
“Do you have a police cruiser?” She finally looked up.
My breath caught once again as I caught sight of her eyes.
“I do,” I said, surprised that my voice had come out sounding so even.
“Then that’s what we’re going to take your photo in,” she said, going back to her camera. “I just have to switch out the lens.”
I nodded but didn’t reply, too busy berating my body for doing things that it shouldn’t be doing for a nineteen-year-old.
“How’s your dad?” she asked conversationally.
And that was a very good way to get my mind out of the gutter and back to the matter at hand.
“My dad’s good,” I said. “Going on a cruise in a few months. So I’d say he’s stressed seeing as he’s trying to figure out how to delegate tasks while he’s gone. But what he does is too much for one person to do, so he’s struggling with it.”
Avery snorted. “Your dad works too much. And he should already be delegating a lot of those things without having to take a vacation.”
My sentiments exactly.
“I agree.” I crossed my arms over my chest.
Avery got her lens switched out and gestured for the door.
I followed her, then had to take over because she stopped and looked confus
ed.
“This way,” I said, leading her out the back door.
I nodded at the two men that were at the back door smoking.
Avery, on the other hand, started to cough.
“Oh, God.” She coughed again, waving her hand in front of her face. “That’s awful.”
Both officers froze as they saw her.
“Officer Morre.” She tilted her head, looking at the officer on the left. “I didn’t realize you started smoking again. Didn’t your wife say you quit?”
Officer Morre winced. “I only do it upon occasion.”
Avery raised a brow at Morre. “Is that right?”
Morre immediately dumped his cigarette onto the ground and stomped it out with his boot.
Officer Tuscon, the man on Avery’s right, snickered.
“And you,” she said. “Tuscon, is it?”
Tuscon nodded, his smile slipping away.
“Don’t you have a pregnant wife at home?”
Tuscon nodded. “Four months.”
“Hmm,” Avery said. “Did you hear about that little baby, she was three years old, that got lung cancer? From secondhand smoke?”
Tuscon froze.
“It’s not just you anymore, my man.” Avery patted him on the shoulder. “Gotta think about that.”
Avery followed me down the steps and to the front of my cruiser, and I couldn’t help it. I had to ask.
***
Avery
Holy. Shit.
I was standing next to Derek Roberts, and I was about to take his photo.
How was this my life?
“Did you have someone close to you die of lung cancer or something?” Derek asked, looking at me curiously.
I shook my head.
“No,” I admitted. “I just like to spread my ‘it’s not good to smoke’ vibes everywhere. Plus, Morre’s wife, Natalie, has a family history of lung cancer. He should be doing better than he is with that hanging over his head.”
Derek grunted.
“Did you really know a three-year-old that got lung cancer?” he pushed.
I snorted. “No. I didn’t know them. I only read about it on the internet.”
He grunted again, making me think he didn’t like that I’d told the men that smoking was bad.
Smoking was bad.
It wasn’t my fault if they didn’t like to hear the dangers associated with it.
“What do you want me to do?” he asked, and the vibe I was getting from him was a whole lot more formal now.
Just Kidding Page 22