Changing Lanes (Bounty County Series Book 2)

by Maren Lee

  He wanted to put her up on the table and eat her sweet pussy for breakfast.

  His mouth watered. Jake clenched his fists to keep himself from grabbing her. Friends. Friends. He repeated to himself.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Lane asked, noticing Jake seemed pained.

  Jake decided, rightly or wrongly, that honesty was the best policy here. “Oh, besides the fact that I’ve got a fucking hard on in my pants that would put the Washington Monument to shame? Or besides the fact that my balls ache from how god damned turned on I am just from lookin’ at you walk across a room? Nothing. Nothing is wrong.” Nice response, idiot. That wasn’t quite so friendly.

  Lane’s entire body flushed at his statement. “Oh. I didn’t mean to... I mean… Jake.” She exhaled. “I don’t even know what to say to that.” She started her slow breathing exercise again.

  Jake pointed his fork at her, his mouth full of his last bite of scramble, “If it weren't for you putting me in the friend zone last night Laney, I’d throw these fucking plates on the floor and eat you on this tabletop right fucking now.” Seeing her flesh go pink with desire when she was turned on did it for him. He had no appetite for eggs right now. Just Lane.

  Lane gasped and looked up at him. Their eyes met. Polar opposites seeking each other.

  “Don't talk with your mouth full,” she admonished him, almost in a whisper. She inhaled sharply. He loved her bold response. But at the same time, he smelled fear. He wasn't going to go for it yet. He didn't want to force her into anything before she was ready. So he laughed.

  She would come to him.

  Lane exhaled heavily - as if she'd forgotten to breathe for a few moments - and closed her eyes.

  “It’s fine. Friends, right? I get it.” Jake stood up and took his plate to the sink. His erection was still quite prominent. Well, fuck, Hamilton. She’s not gonna miss that on your way back through.

  He sauntered back in the room.

  “Good God, Jake,” Lane said, pointing to the giant tent in his pants. Nope. She didn't miss it. “Should you go see a professional or something about that? It’s been an hour and you’re still hard?” Lane couldn’t stop from gawking. Annnnnnnnd she’s back.

  Jake grabbed his length over his jeans and stroked it once. “This? Nah. Nothing to worry about here. I’ve kept it up much longer. Remember? You were there.” He looked her up and down. She blushed again and swallowed. Inhale through the nose. Out through the mouth.

  “Don’t worry about me. I’ll handle it when I get home.” He winked at her again, released his cock, and headed for the front door. “See you tonight, Red.”

  “No, Jake. I don’t have time tonight.”

  He didn’t respond. He slipped his shoes on, grabbed his keys and t-shirt, and started out the door.

  “Don’t you need to put your shirt on?” Lane asked sarcastically.

  So sassy this one, he thought. “Sun’s out guns out, buddy,” he tossed back.

  It was November. It was cold-as-fuck this morning in Imminence. But Jake didn’t care. If it made Lane crazy, he was doing it.

  Chapter 6

  Lane’s morning was off to a weird start. She’d found Jake in her bed first thing this morning, not at all remembering how he got there. And now Anne was on the phone screaming in her ear about the Mayor of Imminence, Ed Jennings, camped out in the lobby wanting to meet with her.

  Lane had no idea what the hell the Mayor would want to meet with her about. But the fact that he was demanding she meet with him at all, let alone at 8:30 in the morning, just pissed her off. As if she wasn't busy enough, now she was going to have to play politics.

  She hated the political game. Public defenders weren’t elected officials for a reason, but she was still a player the game. Because Lane was part of the courtroom workgroup, and because the Prosecutor was an elected position, politics affected her job on a daily basis. Lane never really bought into the whole ‘I’m an elected official’ bullshit. In her mind, there was nothing that made one guy any more important than the next.

  Lane pulled into the parking lot of the office to find her spot occupied by a Range Rover. Jesus! Did the Mayor really make enough money to buy a Range Rover? He must be a rancher or something too.

  Lane avoided the front entrance and headed for the back door. She didn’t want to rush in past Anne and Mayor Jennings. She'd call Anne and have him sent in when she was ready.

  After five minutes of straightening up her desk and making sure there wasn't anything confidential sitting out for an unannounced guest to see, she phoned Anne to bring Mr. Jennings back.

  The phone rang three times before Anne picked up, “Oh, Ms. Bennett, I didn’t realize you were in yet. Mayor Jennings has been waiting for thirty minutes already! A phone call to let me know you were coming would have been-”

  “Anne, stop. I’m not in the mood to hear it. You’re not here to keep tabs on me. You are here to assist me. And as far as Mayor Jennings goes, I don’t give a damn how long he’s been waiting. He came in unannounced demanding a morning meeting. I don’t work for him. This shit doesn't fly with me. If I were in court this morning, he’d have to wait even longer. Now enough with the attitude. Please bring Mayor Jennings back.” Well. She’s never going to use your first name now. Fuck it.

  “As you wish, Ms Bennett,” Anne snapped.

  As you wish. So dramatic. Like I’m a fucking princess or something. Do your damn job.

  “Right this way, Mr. Mayor,” Anne directed him into Lane’s office.

  As the Mayor walked in, Lane had to clench her teeth to keep her jaw from dropping. She’d never met him before, so she was a bit taken aback by his appearance.

  This guy was not your typical small town mayor (or at least not what Lane imagined was a typical small town mayor). He was way too fancy. Lane knew fancy. She had a reason for the fancy. Maybe this guy did too? Shiny brown shoes, a fancy blue Ralph Lauren suit (yeah, Lane could spot ‘em), and a brown and blue paisley tie to bring the look together. He looked sharp. Like a skinny Colonel Sanders without the big black glasses.

  “Ms. Bennett,” he extended his hand. “I’m Mayor Ed Jennings. A pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.” Good lord, the man obviously gets manicures. His hands were smoother than Lane’s.

  “Lane Bennett, pleased to meet you,” she shook his hand. Yep, baby butt soft. Gross. Those are not man hands. Not like Jake’s rough...shut up, Lane. “What brings you by today?”

  “Well, sweetheart…” Ugh. Lane cringed at the endearment. Annnnnd THIS is why we need feminism. Fuck this guy. “As you know Tom Walters murdered one of my city officers a few weeks ago-”

  Oh hell no. “Mayor Jennings, I need to stop you right there. Tom is my client. Your statement leads me to believe you want to be talking to the prosecutor, not the defense attorney.” He has to be confused. No defense attorney would entertain that kind of a statement.

  “Oh no, Ms. Bennett. I need to stop you right there there.” He turned her words back on her. “I am well aware of who you are and what you do. I am here to tell you that Tom Walters is guilty. The sooner you come to terms with that the better. Let the justice system take care of Mr. Walters.”

  Was this guy high? “Mayor Jennings, I am a part of the justice system. So I intend to take care of my client. I’m going to have to ask you to leave. Now.”

  He shook his head and stood slowly, “I was hoping we could agree to see eye to eye on this, darling, but it doesn’t look like that is going to happen.”

  “No, that is not going to happen. Ever. Darling,” Lane responded as bitchily as possible. She couldn't believe he would even bring this up to her.

  “Consider this as your warning, Ms. Bennett. If you change your mind, you should let me know.”

  What the hell? Was he threatening me? “Is that a threat, Mayor?” Lane was shaking with anger, but hid it well.

  “Take it however you want it. I don’t want to come back here, but I will if we don’t get on the same pag
e. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about doing any additional investigating. Let the boys in blue handle this one.” He turned to walk out.

  Lane stopped him with her voice. “Consider your invitation to this office permanently revoked, Mayor.” He turned to face her. Her stare was cold as ice. “No need to come by again. And if you think you can intimidate me to try and get your way because of some fucked up assumption you have about my client, you're dead wrong. This act you have going on here doesn’t scare me. I’ve had to fight bigger battles with some powerful figureheads. You sir, do not compare.” The nerve of this asshole had her fuming.

  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He mumbled as he walked out the door.

  What a jerk off. Holy fuck. He was assuming Tom was guilty without knowing any facts. Fuck that. What an interesting twist to this case. Mayor Jennings just tipped his hand and all he did was pour fuel to her fire. Lane was going to get to the bottom of this case come hell or high water, nobody would stand in her way of the truth.

  “Anne!” Lane screamed. Anne took her sweet ass time coming in. Bitch. “I wish you’d been here as a witness, but I was essentially just threatened by Mayor Jennings for my representation of Tom Walters. Write it down. Get it in the file. Date and time stamp it. Get it in an email. No more unannounced guests. Appointments are now required.”

  “Holy shit,” Anne responded, surprised. “Really?” She actually sounded human for once.

  “Yeah.”

  “What the fuck?” Exactly.

  “Yeah.” It was all Lane could say.

  “You got it, Lane.”

  Lane smiled. Well, that was nice.

  She was going to prove Tom’s innocence. She knew what she needed to do. It was time to spend the next week reading everything. This was going to take up all of her free time, but when it came to a man's life, there was no excuse for anything else to take priority.

  Lane’s new ‘friendship’ with Jake was going to have to sit on the backburner.

  Lane sat for a minute in the quiet and reminded herself to breathe. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. She threw her shoulders back and started to get down to business.

  Mayor Jennings fucked with the wrong bitch.

  ➰

  Jake was having a boring day on patrol. Every octogenarian in the county was either speeding or driving way too slow for the flow of traffic. He felt like an asshole for even having to pull them over and advise them of traffic laws, but it was his job.

  One crotchety little old lady gave him the finger as she drove away. He’d had to laugh when she told him she’d “been on this earth for 85 damned years and if I want to be in a hurry to get somewhere I’ve goddamn well earned that right.” How do you even argue with that? Jake laughed and let her go with a warning.

  On top of one of the most boring and tedious days of patrol, he’d received a text from Lane letting him know she was going to be balls deep in work for the next week and she’d have zero time to hang out.

  He’d called and tried to convince her she could work and hang out with him but she claimed she’d be at the office late most nights and he was too much of a distraction for her to be able to focus. She’d practically begged him to give her until next weekend. He let her win. At least she admits you’re distraction. That’s something. And she’s leaving things open for the future. He could deal with a few days.

  He had plenty of reports to write and the guys all wanted to get together for some poker and football this weekend anyway. Still, he didn’t want to wait that long to see her. Maybe he’d surprise her. It might piss her off, but it might be worth it.

  When he finally got home around 7:00, Wesson and Smitty were outside pulling dinner out of the smoker. Pork roast. Yes.

  Rook, a.k.a Cole, was nowhere in sight. His lazy ass was probably inside playing xbox. That fucker better have replaced the remote he broke the other day. Cole was the rookie. He’d been on the force for the last three or four months. At 23 years old, he was the youngest in the house and the youngest in the Department. Dillon Yates had started around the same time as Cole, but he had a few years in age on him, so Cole got the “Rook” designation. A fact that annoyed the shit out of Cole.

  Wesson and Smitty had both graduated from the Academy five years ago. Jake had been with Bounty County for over eight years now. He and Justin Hunt had lived together they first graduated the POST academy together, but that was short lived when he’d realized Justin didn’t like to share anything that was his.

  Not to mention the fact that all Justin wanted was to watch was stupid movies, the news, and Dateline. If Jake wanted to maintain their friendship, he had to get a place of his own.

  Jake went hunting for places to rent, but there wasn’t much in the small city. He’d stumbled across his current home by chance while he was on duty. The owner of the home, Mrs. Dinwiddie, was living in Arizona full time when the security monitoring company let her know the alarm went off. She’d called Bounty County dispatch. Jake was the closest officer, so he’d responded to the call.

  It was a frigid winter night and someone had attempted to get in to stay warm. They must have been scared off when the alarm sounded, because he didn’t find anyone inside. Jake called the owner to let her know everything was code 4.

  The sweet little old lady on the other end was very appreciative and asked Jake if he knew of anyone who would be willing to manage the property for her. One thing led to another and Jake became her tenant, property manager, and phone friend.

  Three years later, Wesson and Smitty moved in. They’d all had their own rooms and a spare one for a gym until Rook needed a place to stay. Now the garage was the gym and poker room. They could smoke cigars in there without feeling guilty for making Mrs. Dinwiddie's house stink for a month. This meant more poker games, so it was a win-win situation for the most part.

  Everyone did their part to cook and clean. Arguments were kept to a minimum.

  At least they were until a few months ago when Rook moved in.

  That little fucker brought new women over all the damn time and he was notorious for leaving them in his bed early in the morning for the other guys to have to deal with. Nobody liked doing Rook’s dirty work and telling random chicks that they were just another notch on his headboard. Jake, Wesson and Smitty all decided to pitch in for a security system upgrade that would alert them when Rook was about to take off. It worked twice until the little weasel realized he could just jump out the window.

  Jake shook his head. It was hard to fault Rook - he was young. Jake, Wesson, and Smitty were slaying pussy back in their early twenties. After hitting their 30’s, though, things slowed down a bit. They were all still chasing tail, but the amount of hookups had been cut in half. At least.

  Nobody had the energy to keep a log of names and phone numbers anymore.

  Not to mention that just a few weeks ago Jake decided that he didn’t want random women anymore. He wanted Lane. One taste and he was hooked. She was like a fucking drug.

  Not seeing her for the next week was going to be rough. After last night and this morning - just talking to her, arguing with her, looking at her - he was going to go through withdrawals. He’d need to keep himself occupied. First: Beer. Second: Dinner.

  Jake walked in the front door and hung his duty belt on the rack as he walked in. He could smell the homemade macaroni and cheese immediately.

  Smitty was almost as good of a cook as Jake, which helped a lot. There weren’t that many places to eat in Imminence, so cooking at home became the norm for their bachelor pad. There were occasionally some nights where they'd all fend for themselves, but the majority of the time either Jake or Smitty cooked.

  Wesson and Rook were responsible for doing the dishes to call it even. They’d tried to help out with the cooking, but Wesson’s “go-to” tater tot casserole was fucking disgusting and Rook’s Hungry Man roulette was even worse.

  Nope. Jake and Smitty were perfe
ctly comfortable as the house chefs.

  Smitty was just pulling the casserole dish out of the oven. Wesson tossed Jake a beer out of the ice bucket.

  “Hot shift today, Hamilton?” Wesson smirked. Everybody knew day shift was a drag, but after recently becoming a Sergeant that’s all he was scheduled for unless there was an emergency at night or a special investigation.

  “The usual. All the blue hairs running amok up and down the highway.” Jake cracked his Miller Lite. “Did you assholes do anything productive around here today?”

  Rook shouted from the living room, “GTL, typical Thursday!”