Justice Inked
Cowboy Justice Association
Book Seven
by
Olivia Jaymes
www.OliviaJaymes.com
JUSTICE INKED
Copyright © 2016 by Olivia Jaymes
Kindle Edition
Cover art by Sloan Winters
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
Justice Inked
Sheriff Dare Turner is known for his ever-present scowl and general bad mood. Between a teenage sister who thinks she’s all grown up and a killer on the loose he doesn’t have much to smile about these days. He simply doesn’t have time for fun and games.
Rayne Dunn is half free spirit and half workaholic. She doesn’t mind the long hours in her tattoo shop creating works of art on skin but sometimes she’d rather be dancing in the rain with someone special. The trouble is she hasn’t had a date in way too long. She needs to change up a few things or she’s going to work herself into an early grave.
Every time these two find themselves in a room together they end up arguing. Rayne thinks the sheriff has a big stick up his posterior and Dare thinks the sexy little tattoo artist is too loud and mouthy. It’s best if they stay far away from each other.
But when someone breaks into Rayne’s shop and then winds up dead that probably isn’t going to be an option. Whether they like it or not, they’re going to be spending a great deal of time with each other.
And they’re starting to really like it…
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
About the Book
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
About the Author
Other Books by Olivia Jaymes
Chapter One
Sheriff Dare Turner was a handsome hunk of man.
At least he was to Rayne Dunn. Since she’d moved to Valley Station months ago and opened her tattoo shop, she couldn’t help but admire the head lawman in town. He was sexy, gorgeous, and absolutely, positively not interested in her. At all.
If he dated, and he didn’t very often, he went for delicate little blondes who dressed conservatively and spoke softly.
And probably only when spoken to.
Rayne, on the other hand, had almost midnight black hair with a few purple streaks added in for fun. She had multiple piercings in her ears and sported a few visible tattoos.
And more that weren’t visible.
She also talked. A great deal and loudly. When she was mad she let people know and when she was happy she sang it from the rooftops.
In other words, she wasn’t Dare’s type and couldn’t even hope to be.
So it wasn’t the easiest thing to sit here in her shop working on his latest tattoo. There was really no way to ink someone’s body without getting close to them and touching. Rayne was so close she could feel the heat from his skin and smell the scent of his body wash. Kind of citrusy with a hint of spice. Clean and fresh.
Dammit.
Why couldn’t he smell like a barn or a locker room? The only saving grace from making Dare Turner completely perfect – other than his questionable taste in females – was the fact that he was the grouchiest man Rayne had ever known. Nothing made him smile. Not catching a criminal. Not eating ice cream or pizza. Not hanging out at the local bar and seeing his favorite team win.
Nothing. Zip. Nada.
Rayne was certain that if Dare did smile his face would crack or melt off like those bad guys at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark. He wasn’t mean; in fact, he could be quite kind to the residents of Valley Station. But he wasn’t a jolly, happy go lucky kind of guy.
Which only made her wonder if he smiled during sex. Or more specifically, could she get him to smile during sex? The challenge was beginning to become an obsession.
“How much longer?”
Dare’s familiar growl pulled Rayne from her daydreams as she changed ink colors. It didn’t take long but the sheriff wasn’t the most patient of men.
“As long as it takes. I’m creating a work of art here, Sheriff, not rotating your tires. If you need to get back to work we can finish another time.”
Dare had commissioned her to ink a phoenix rising from the ashes on his right shoulder blade. It was colorful and intricate and he was like a five-year-old getting a root canal. He tried not to fidget but clearly, he hated sitting still. There was no way they’d finish this today.
He growled again but Rayne didn’t even flinch. At this point she was used to the sheriff’s unusual mode of communication. He had different growls for various occasions and this one wasn’t anything to be alarmed about.
“Can you at least change the damn channel on the television? This movie is ridiculous.”
She didn’t even have to rise from her chair. Picking up the remote, she simply held it out to Dare. “Knock yourself out. It’s just background noise when I’m working.”
This time he grunted in response, which seemed to be an improvement over the growls. He skipped through the channels until he landed on an all weather station.
“I’d pictured you as more of a sports channel kind of guy.”
Dare peered over his shoulder, his brows pulled down in his usual half frown and half scowl as if he was shocked she had the audacity to try and start a conversation with him.
“I’m going hunting this weekend and want to see what the weather is going to be like.”
That might be the longest sentence he’d ever said to her. She was on a roll, so why not push her luck? Something she did on a daily basis and it could really piss people off.
“What kind of hunting do you do, Sheriff?”
“Turkey.”
She waited for him to elaborate but of course, he didn’t. What a tool. What a sexy, gorgeous, alpha male tool.
“It’s not even Halloween yet. I guess I only thought people hunted turkey for Thanksgiving.”
“Turkey season lasts pretty much the entire fall.” He muted the television and looked back at her as she worked on the piece. “You’re not from here, are you?”
That was progress. He’d asked her a personal question a
lthough the answer should have been obvious. She didn’t fit in all that well, but then she hadn’t tried hard to.
“No. I’m originally from San Francisco, but my sister Camy married a man from Fairfield so I moved there when she got pregnant. To help, I guess. Then my shop burned down and this place came open, and it was such a good deal I couldn’t turn it down. I’m still close enough to drive to see her whenever I want, but I really miss my friend Misty since she and Jared moved to Seattle.”
Way more information than he’d asked for, but Rayne was a talker, which was normally a good thing in her profession. Most people wanted to chat and get their minds off the fact that she was injecting ink into their skin with needles.
“San Francisco, huh? That explains a lot.”
Normally with a customer she’d have ignored the implied insult, but something about Dare made her mouth say things she shouldn’t.
“That’s not a nice thing to say, Sheriff.”
His brows shot up in surprise and she didn’t bother to hide her chuckle. “I meant no disrespect, Miss Dunn.”
“Really? It kind of sounded like an insult from where I’m sitting. Usually people are nicer to me when I’m holding the needle, but I can see you’re a man that doesn’t mind a little pain as long as the end result is worth it. By the way, please call me Rayne. It’s hard to stay formal when we’ve been this close to each other.”
A fact that Sheriff Turner seemed to just be realizing. His shoulders, which had been relaxed, now stiffened and it felt like he was holding his breath. Or maybe his temper. She’d been known to rile a few in her time.
“I simply meant that you seemed unfamiliar with the local ways…Rayne. Not that there was anything wrong with that.”
He wasn’t mad but he was perturbed. The good sheriff didn’t appreciate her comment. Good. She hadn’t much liked his either.
It only underlined the sad fact that he didn’t find her attractive in the least.
What was a single girl in the middle of Montana to do?
Annoy the crap out of the man she couldn’t have, that’s what.
* * * *
There was a fire in Rayne’s sparkling green eyes and Dare had to hide his chuckle that he was the poor bastard that had lit the fuse.
Inadvertently, of course, although he sure as hell liked to poke and prod at the dark-haired beauty. Despite her funny looking clothes and the purple streaks in her hair, she had an exotic air about her that he found very attractive. She wasn’t his usual type, though. He liked his women quiet and shy, and she was far from that. Rayne was out there living her life loud and proud, which was great. Just not what he was looking for.
Not that he was looking. He wasn’t. He had too damn many things going on in his life to be getting involved with a female. They needed time and attention. Plenty of it. He simply didn’t have it to spare.
“Don’t know the local ways? That’s a polite way to say I don’t fit in. Which I don’t. I stick out like a sore thumb. But I thought you might be more tolerant than the local church ladies, who pray for my soul like I’m a harlot come to town to lead all the men astray.”
Rayne looked capable of leading a male into temptation. The black bustier she had paired with a purple vinyl skirt showed off every God-given curve of her body. That skirt had scooted higher on her thighs as she leaned even closer, her glasses sliding down her nose as she worked, showing off several inches of creamy skin.
“I’m sure they don’t think that, and I am tolerant. There’s nothing wrong with your appearance.”
Rayne snorted and not in a delicate manner. “Funny how I didn’t mention my appearance but you did. Face it, Sheriff, I’m just never going to fade into the background of Valley Station or Fairfield.”
“Do you want to?”
The question was out before he could stop himself, but then he wanted to know the answer. She didn’t seem like the type of person who spent much time courting the opinions of others, but he didn’t know her well. She could be hiding a huge inferiority complex with tattoos and funny clothes.
“Stay still,” she scolded, pressing her palm to his shoulder. Her hands were small but capable, the nails cut short and painted a bright red that matched her lipstick. “And the answer to your question is not particularly. My parents weren’t people that encouraged hiding your light under a bushel as you might say here. They stood out and they wanted us to as well. If you met our family, you’d remember it.”
He believed it.
“What do your parents do?”
“They follow the Grateful Dead around the country and sell crystals out of their van.”
Wha–?
Rayne was openly laughing at him and he felt heat rising in his cheeks. “That’s what you expected me to say, isn’t it? You don’t think they’re bankers or attorneys, right?”
“I suppose not,” he said curtly, not enjoying the experience of being the butt of one of her jokes. Most people in Valley Station gave him a wide berth when it came to something like that. “Does it amuse you to laugh at me?”
“Kind of, yeah.” Rayne giggled and he found it difficult to stay annoyed. The sound was simply too cute. “But if you must know my parents own a company that puts together adventure vacations. You know like hiking, mountain climbing, bungee jumping, white water rafting. They really like the outdoors.”
“Doesn’t sound like you do.”
She wrinkled her snub nose and he noticed a smattering of light freckles. “Hardly. My idea of camping is sleeping with the windows open, but my parents had other ideas. I’ve been dragged along on every sort of family vacation they could think up that wouldn’t get us all out and out killed. Someday I want to spend a week being pampered at a spa, but I don’t know when that will ever happen. People complain when I close the shop on Sundays and Mondays.”
The bell over the door rang and Dare turned to see his little sister saunter into the tattoo shop. Just turned eighteen, Sophie was really Dare’s half sister from his father’s second marriage. When his dad had a heart attack and passed away several months ago, Dare had left his deputy job with Griffin Sawyer and moved back to Valley Station to care for his sister.
A completely fucking thankless job.
While he and Sophie loved each other, they didn’t exactly see eye to eye about how she should live her life. She thought she was all grown up and he still saw her as the tiny innocent girl with big blue eyes and blonde pigtails. It made for more than a few tension-filled conversations.
Just this morning they’d argued over how tight her jeans were. Sophie had told him they were “skinny jeans” and meant to hug the legs, but Dare had said they were simply too small. Then she’d reminded him she was eighteen and could dress herself however she wanted, and that had pretty much ended their heated discussion. Dare was afraid if he pushed her too much she’d move out and then he’d never know what was going on in her life. That was much worse than tight blue jeans.
“Hey, big brother, I thought I saw you through the window.” Sophie came closer to inspect Rayne’s work and a smile bloomed on her face. “That’s so cool, Miss Dunn! The colors are so bright and the detail is amazing.”
Rayne gave his sister a warm smile that she’d never given him. “Thank you. And please call me Rayne. All my friends do.”
Did that mean they were friends?
“I’d love to have a flower.” Sophie pointed to the top of her shoulder. “Right here. Something soft and feminine. Maybe pink. Could you do something like that?”
“No,” Dare grated, not caring that he didn’t let Rayne get in a word edgewise. This was his little sister. Emphasis on little. “No, she cannot. Ever. You are not getting a tattoo.”
Sophie’s chin jutted out, her eyes narrowed. “As I keep reminding you, big brother, I’m eighteen. That’s the age of consent to get a tattoo. If I want one there is no way you can stop me.”
His hands tightened into fists, Dare tried counting to ten before he replied but only made it to f
ive. She was right, of course, but that didn’t mean he was giving in. “You’re too young. Ink is for life, little girl. When you’re a few years older then you can decide.”
He should simply be grateful she didn’t want to get the name of her latest horn dog boyfriend inked on her shoulder, or worse…on her ass. But he wasn’t feeling all that grateful at the moment.
“Says the man that’s getting a tattoo as we speak,” Sophie smirked. “You’re a gigantic hypocrite, you know that? When did you get your first tat?”
“That’s not the point. The point is–”
“Excuse me.” Rayne had stood up and her voice boomed through the small shop. “Can you have your family feud somewhere else? I need you to be still and I need to be able to concentrate, or you’re going to end up with a sad-looking tattoo. Capiche?”
No one talked to Dare that way. Ever. And yet this five foot two Goth pixie had just laid down the law. After laughing at him.
What the fuck?
He’d had enough for one day. “Can we continue this another time, Miss Dunn?”
He didn’t give a shit that he sounded curt or pissed or whatever. He was the goddamn law in this town, and he didn’t appreciate being spoken to like he was a naughty teenager.
Rayne grabbed the appointment book from the reception desk and slammed it down on her chair, her scarlet lips pressed together in a tight line. She wasn’t any happier than he was.
Tough.
“Fine. When?”
“Next Wednesday? About two?”
She carefully dressed his fresh ink before Dare slipped his shirt back on and she shoved a piece of paper in his hands. She wasn’t happy with him, but proper care of his new tattoo was important. “See you then. Here’s instructions on how to care for your tat. Let me know if you have any problems.”
He knew how to take care of new ink. This wasn’t his first rodeo.
“Thank you.” He placed his hand on Sophie’s upper arm to lead her out of the shop. “Shall we head home, sis?”
Rayne was standing there, her hands on her hips, looking very unhappy. Apparently she hadn’t embraced the whole motto regarding the customer always being right.
Justice Inked (Cowboy Justice Association 7) Page 1
