Justice for Laine (Badge of Honor: Texas Heroes Book 4)

R
eluctantly taking
her best friend’s place at a photo shoot, realtor Laine Parker expects to assist the photographer for the day . . . not drool over the volunteer model, Westin King. The Texas Ranger and real-life cowboy is hot-on-hot sexy, from the tips of his boots to the top of his Stetson. Despite her visceral reaction to the man, the last thing Laine expects is a whirlwind romance—but that’s exactly what she gets.

Wes has been around the block enough to know what he wants, and he wants Laine. He wastes no time showing her how he feels . . . but he may never get the chance to
tell
her. Laine has disappeared, and it will take every connection Wes has—and a little help from a mangy stray—to get her back in his arms.

*
Justice for Laine
is book 4 in the Badge of Honor: Texas Heroes series. Each book is a stand-alone, with no cliffhanger endings.

“
N
o
. Absolutely not,” Laine told Mackenzie emphatically.

“Please?”

Laine Parker sighed in exasperation. Mack was her best friend, but sometimes she thought they shouldn’t be friends at all. Mackenzie was curvy and outgoing and somehow seemed to light up a room the second she walked in. Laine was almost the exact opposite. She was tall and slender and would rather spend the night at home in her sweats than go out . . . but it was hard to meet a guy that way. Still, they were thick as thieves, went together like peanut butter and jelly, and were like blood sisters.

“I only said I’d come because
you
were going. I have no desire to go out to some random guy’s ranch, watch as he takes his shirt off and poses for your charity calendar,” Laine told Mack in an irritated tone of voice.

“I know,” Mack whined, obviously stressed out. “But my new boss asked me to go with her today to check out the venue for our annual charity ball. I wouldn’t normally agree, because it’s not like she can’t go and look at a ballroom herself, but I’m trying to make sure I stay in her good graces. After Nancy left, we floundered a bit before Loretta got here. I don’t want to do anything to make her reconsider her employment choice. And, Laine, this isn’t a random guy. Wes works with Daxton. He’s a Texas Ranger. It’s not like I’m sending you to a Chippendale club or something. Besides, Jack will be there.”

Laine took a big gulp of her iced tea, wishing it was something stronger. Mackenzie had asked her to lunch today, and she’d thought it was so her friend could grill her on her lack of a love life. Ever since Mack had fallen in love with her hunky Texas Ranger, she’d been trying extra hard to find Laine a man as well.

“Jack being there isn’t a positive in my book. I don’t really know
him
either. I know I’ve met him a few times, but you were always with us. Look, you know I love you, but why do I need to go at all?”

“Seriously?” Mack asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Yeah, seriously.”

“Okay, here’s the thing. Jack is a great photographer. He’s one of the best. We were lucky to get him to take the pictures for the calendar. But you know the kind of men Daxton and his friends are . . . they’re manly-men. Alphas. Cops. They’re not comfortable stripping and having their picture taken . . . especially for another man.” She held up her hand to hold off Laine’s protestation. “I know, I know, Jack isn’t gay, but it doesn’t matter. It’s weird for them. Daxton told me straight out that if I wasn’t there, he wouldn’t have done it. So I
need
you to go so it’s not just Wes and Jack. Please? Wes is the last model I need to finish this calendar. I don’t have a backup guy, he’s it.”

Laine put her head on the table in front of her in defeat. It wasn’t as if she didn’t have the time. As a realtor, she had the luxury of setting her own schedule. She’d cleared her calendar so she could be there with Mack for the shoot. The Petersons had gladly moved the tour of the house they wanted to see until the next day, and the Whispersons had no issue moving their showing
up
. So she had the time blocked off to spend with her best friend.

Picking up her head, she acquiesced. “Okay, but you owe me, Mackenzie.”

“Yay!” Mack clapped her hands softly in glee. “It’ll be fun. I know how much you love seeing the old ranches. Wes’s ranch has been in his family for at least a hundred years. Daxton said every second he’s not working a case, he’s out there doing what he loves. He’s a true cowboy in every sense of the word. In high school and college, he was on the rodeo team. He did that roping thing.”

“What roping thing?”

“You know, where they let a cow go and they ride out behind it on a horse and lasso it with a rope . . . mm hmm . . . that’s next on our agenda,” Mack exclaimed. “We need to go and check out a rodeo.”

“We’ve
been
to a rodeo. We went to one last year,” Laine reminded her friend.

“Oh, but we weren’t really trying to understand anything, we were just there for the eye candy and so we had an excuse to wear our new boots. We need to go and check out what all the events are.”

Laine shook her head. Mack was a goof. She tended to ramble too much and was clumsy as all get-out, but they’d been best friends since middle school. Laine would move heaven and earth for her if she asked, especially after almost losing her to a psycho serial killer. Knowing Mack had found the love of her life made Laine happy, even if she was a bit sad at the same time that she herself hadn’t found someone yet.

For so long it’d been just the two of them. They’d make spur-of-the-moment plans, hang out all night at each other’s houses, and they were confidants. But Laine could see the writing on the wall. Now that Mack had Dax, he was the center of her life . . . as it should be. They’d tried to find the right man for themselves all of their lives, and now that Mack had, Laine felt as though she was being left behind. It was a difficult thing to get used to.

“What time do I need to be out at his place?” Laine asked Mack, trying to get her back on track.

“Ten. I’m not sure what Jack has planned for the shoot, but he said he’d like to use a barn in a shot, if it works out when he gets there. He’s been very good at being able to put the other guys at ease. He can figure out the best place to pose them for the shots that show off their assets. Seriously, Laine, you should see some of the pictures so far. Daxton, of course, is hot, but you’d never guess that under his lab coat, Calder is totally ripped. And Quint? Hot damn. Seriously, they could all quit tomorrow, start their own strip club and make millions.”

“What about Hayden?”

Mackenzie smiled an evil smile. “Oh, she didn’t want to do it, but I bribed her.”

“With what?”

“I promised I wouldn’t ask her to go shopping with me for at least six months.”

Laine giggled. “No wonder she agreed. The last time you dragged her out, she was traumatized for life.”

“That’s not true!” Mack protested. “Just because I thought she’d look good in that corset thing and the zipper broke and the manager of the store had to come in and cut her out of it, doesn’t mean she was traumatized.”

“Uh. Yeah. It does.”

“Whatever.” Mack waved off the incident.

Laine had heard all about the shopping trip from Hayden one night at the bar. The men had thought it was hysterical, but Hayden had glared daggers at everyone for the rest of the night. She wouldn’t admit it out loud, but Laine would’ve paid big bucks to be a fly on the wall during that incident.

“Anyway, I swear you’d think Hayden was a model by looking at the pictures Jack took of her. They went to the shooting range and he somehow convinced her to take off her deputy’s jacket, and the picture I think we’re using of her is a profile shot where she’s aiming downrange. She’s wearing a white tank top and her red hair against it is absolutely beautiful. She wanted to keep it up in the bun she always wears it in, but Jack convinced her to take it down. It’s a bit curly and the wind blew at exactly the right time for the shot. It’s as if she had a fan in front of her, wafting her hair back perfectly. Seriously, I was jealous as all get-out of her hair. Even though she’s the only woman in the calendar, I’m so glad we convinced her to do it. The rest of the guys are gonna crap their pants when they see her. She’s usually so . . . mannish. Even I had no idea she was so beautiful. She hides it well.”

Laine suddenly looked at her watch. “Crap, I gotta get going. I have an appointment in twenty minutes.”

“You going to look at another ranch?” Mackenzie asked, knowing how much her friend loved showing the properties on the outskirts of San Antonio.

Laine wrinkled her nose. “Nope, this one is a plain ol’ suburban three bedroom, two bath.”

“Poor thing.”

“I know, right?”

Mackenzie stood up with Laine and hugged her. “Thank you so much for doing this for me. I swear I wouldn’t ask you to go if I didn’t think it was important.”

“Have you met this Wes guy?” Laine asked Mack, putting her purse strap over her shoulder.

“No, but Daxton says he’s easy to work with and he respects him. I guess they’re pretty close work friends.”

Laine shrugged. “I guess that’s as good of a recommendation as the man’ll get.”

“Damn straight.”

They hugged again. “Be safe. I’ll call you tomorrow night and you can tell me all about it,” Mack said.

“I will. Love you.”

“Love you too. Bye.”

As Laine headed out to her car, she wondered just what in the world Mackenzie had gotten her into now.

L
aine parked next to a large
, black pickup truck and turned off her engine. Gazing at the house with her realtor hat on, she was impressed. It was big, two stories with a huge wraparound porch. She didn’t know what it was about porches, but they seemed to make a house cozier and homier. She thought the house was probably at least three thousand square feet, maybe more if it went back farther than she could see from the front.

It was painted a steel-blue color, which stood out among the plains surrounding it. There was a large red barn off to the left and fences as far as she could see. A few horses grazed on the land around both the barn and the house. Overall, it looked idyllic, and Laine could almost imagine little kids running around while their mother sat on the porch swing watching them play.

She shook her head. At thirty-seven, she was too old to have mommy regrets. It wasn’t that she
couldn’t
have kids, she knew women were able to have them later and later nowadays, but she was at a point in her life where kids weren’t high on her priority list anymore. It was interesting, however, that with all the houses she’d shown and sold over the years, none had made her think about what she might be missing in her life more than this one.

A knock on the window next to her head made her screech and duck to the right in fright.

Jack. The photographer was standing next to her car, grinning like a maniac. Laine put a hand to her chest and willed her heart to slow. Criminy, he’d scared her.

She opened the door and stepped out, smacking the large man on the shoulder as she stood next to him. “Not cool, Jack.”

“Couldn’t resist. You were sitting in your car like a zombie.”

“Maybe I was thinking.”

“Yeah, well, think on someone else’s time. I need to get this done so I can go and take pictures of a Quinceañera.”

“Have you seen Wes yet?” Laine asked, pocketing her keys. She’d dressed for comfort today, as she did most days, in a pair of well-worn jeans and her old brown cowboy boots. They were scuffed and not that pretty looking, but they were comfortable. She’d learned after her first trip to a ranch, years ago, that sandals or sneakers weren’t the best footwear for the uneven ground of a working farm in Texas.

“Not yet, but one of his employees said he was in the barn and that he was expecting me.”

“Let’s get this over with, yeah?” Laine asked, already walking toward the large open doors to the spacious building. “Do you have a plan?”

“Not yet. I want to see what the inside of this monstrosity looks like . . . see if there’s a decent place to take some shots. The light is good this morning, but if it’s too dark inside, I’ll need to find a more appropriate place outdoors instead.”

“How many other cowboy shots have you done for the calendar?” Laine questioned as she matched the photographer’s stride.

“Actually, none, they were all more law-enforcement based. The other guys and Hayden aren’t exactly the cowboy types. That’s why I’m excited about this one. Mackenzie told me this guy’s the real deal. I’m thinking if I can get what I want, it might be a good cover picture. We
do
live in Texas, after all.”

Laine didn’t respond, withholding judgement. She’d known a lot of men in her life who wanted others to think they were stereotypical Texan cowboys, but she could count on one hand the number who she’d actually classify that way. Wearing boots and a Stetson did not make a man a cowboy.

They stopped inside the sliding doors of the barn and waited for their eyes to adjust to the dimmer light. After a few seconds, when she could see clearly, Laine almost gasped at the sight that met them, but managed to refrain.

There were several stalls on either side of the space; most were empty, except for two. There was an obviously pregnant mare in one and a younger colt in another. The loft over their heads held hay bales stacked and ready for the colder months, and on the entire back wall hung various leather tack for the horses and other ranching tools.

But it was the man, who hadn’t sensed their presence yet, who stole her breath. He was shirtless, and his jeans rode low on his hips, highlighting his flat, muscular stomach. He was tall, probably a few inches taller than her five-nine, and he wasn’t a young guy either . . . which actually relieved Laine. She would’ve felt uncomfortable if she’d been attracted to someone in his twenties. There wasn’t anything wrong with it, but she’d always preferred older men.

His profile was to them as he shoveled manure out of one of the stalls. The muscles in his back and side rolled and stretched as he scooped the waste out of the hay on the floor and into a wheelbarrow next to him. His biceps flexed as he turned back to the empty stall and continued with his chore.

Laine could’ve stood there all day doing nothing but watching this amazingly beautiful, rugged man work, but Jack was seemingly not as gobsmacked as she was, because he cleared his throat loudly and asked, “Westin King?”

The man at the other end of the barn lifted his head and nodded in greeting when he saw the two of them standing at the door. He rested the shovel against the wall and headed toward them. He grabbed a rag hanging off the rail of another stall and used it to wipe his hands as he walked.

Laine felt as if she was stuck to the floor. He’d obviously been in the barn working for a while, because even though it wasn’t exactly hot yet, his chest was covered with a sheen of sweat. He had dark hair, and some strands were stuck to his forehead, and the hair on his neck was wet as well. With the way his jeans fit, Laine could clearly see the mysterious and sexy-as-hell V-muscles that she’d only seen a couple times in her life. Laine had no idea what they were really called, but whatever they were, this man’s were highly defined and pointing toward the Promised Land.

His abs were equally as impressive and she could see a clear six-pack that flexed as he came toward her and Jack. Her eyes roamed down his legs, over his well-worn and dirty jeans to the tips of his brown, well-used boots.

“My eyes are up here,” he drawled, clearly amused at her intense perusal of his body.

Laine knew she was blushing, and immediately looked up into his face. His eyes were a dark brown, the color of the mahogany desk she had at home, and he had laugh lines around them. His lips were full and pink and currently pulled up into a smile, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. Which would be extremely embarrassing, since she’d undressed him and had her way with him in her mind during the few seconds it’d taken for him to get to them.

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.”