Just Kidding (SWAT Generation 2.0 Book 1)
Page 4
“You can hide tattoos?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Mostly. It takes some creative lighting, but yes.” She paused. “We can also pose him so that the majority of them are covered up… but dude, there’s no way you’re getting out of taking your shirt off. That’s what’s going to make these puppies be adopted.”
I agreed with her wholeheartedly.
“Yeah.” I eyed the shirts. “They’re gonna have to go.”
Dax’s eyes flicked up to meet mine. Then over to Avery.
“You are legal, right?” he asked.
I rolled my eyes.
It was common knowledge that she was.
“I even have insurance and everything for my business,” she said. “But yes, I’m nineteen. I was held back a year after my mom passed after going through some shit. At this point, I’m only taking two core classes and that’s it. It’s a waste of my year.”
“You should take some college classes,” I suggested as I sat on the edge of the bed.
I ran my hand over my bald head and wondered if it would all grow back in fast, or if it’d grow slow as molasses like it usually did when I cut it.
Dax started stripping off his shirt, starting with the top SWAT one.
I felt my mouth pool with drool at the way the tight compression shirt clung to his body.
See, the thing is, Dax was huge.
He had biceps as big as my head, forearms bigger than my calves, and a chest that most body building competitors would die for.
And man, the high and tight haircut he was sporting along with his neatly trimmed beard? Holy shit, it really did things for me.
Was it hot in here?
I moved from rubbing my head to fanning my face.
Dax looked at me with an expression on his face that I couldn’t quite decipher, then reached down for his compression tank.
“I’m going to college, yes,” Avery said. “Wow, that’s a lot of tattoos.”
It was.
He didn’t have that many on his chest, but he sure did have a shit ton on his arms.
Each of his arms were completely filled with tattoos. There wasn’t a single spot of skin that was blank from wrist to shoulder.
Even his hands had tattoos on them.
There was a skull on one hand and a deck of playing cards on the other.
But those were seriously the tamest of all of them.
“Yeah,” Dax said, propping his hands up onto his trim hips.
And oh, God.
He had a six-pack.
Oh, and the V.
Jesus Christ almighty, he had the V.
And not just a little hint of one, either.
He had a full-blown, my cock is this way, V.
I swallowed hard so that I didn’t look at his lower region any longer, trying to get myself under control.
Rowen, you don’t know this man. You might’ve seen him as a kid, but you seriously don’t know him.
“How tall are you?” Avery asked, sounding contemplative.
“Six-foot-four,” Dax answered. “Why?”
Avery tapped her cleft chin with one finger as she studied Dax.
She wasn’t studying him like I was studying him, though.
She was studying him like one would a project.
“I’m thinking that the backdrop is gonna be a no for you,” she gestured to it. “I didn’t bring the extender poles. And six-foot-two is about where I’d want to stop on those.” She paused. “How about the bed? That way I can cover up that tattoo right there.” She pointed to the one that was his mother’s most hated tattoo. The woman with her tits hanging out. “And then I can photoshop what I can’t cut out with creative positioning.”
Dax shrugged and walked over to the bed.
“Get under the covers,” Avery suggested. “You can leave your pants on.”
Oh God.
I’d literally combust if she’d asked him to take those off.
Holy shit.
Dax crawled under the covers, leaving his boots, belt, and pants on.
Sadly.
“Hey, Row?” Avery called. “Can you go over to his other side and help me lift these covers? I want to position it like he’s naked in bed. Just stop it right there… perfect.”
After helping her move the sheet and blanket so that it was hinting at him being naked, I backed away and tried not to stare.
But Jesus Christ.
Seeing Dax Tremaine in bed with his tanned skin pressed against cool white sheets?
Holy hotness, Batman.
“Perfect,” she said. “Now just lie there like you’re about to take a nap. Ruffle the pillows. Perfect.”
I leaned my back against the wall and crossed my arms over my chest so that my nipples wouldn’t betray me.
I watched as Avery stood over Dax, straddling his big body on the bed, and took picture after picture.
I felt tingles shiver down my spine as he looked over at me at one point, a small grin on his face.
“This is really weird, isn’t it?” he asked.
I tried not to betray how ‘not weird’ I was feeling right then.
“It’s gonna be cool,” I admitted.
His answering wink had my heart rate shooting through the roof.
I backed up again, this time being sure to position myself so that I was against the wall but out of Dax’s direct line of sight.
Once there, I contemplated how nice Dax was being to me.
And then I realized why he was being so nice to me.
He felt bad for me and my bald little head.
Understanding dawned, and I nearly slapped my forehead with my hand in reaction.
There I was getting ideas, and there Dax was just being nice to the poor soul that had all her hair melted off.
Feeling decidedly more down now than I had in the office while I was telling my father what happened, I stayed silent and watched the rest of the shoot happen.
Dax never moved out of the bed.
As Avery stood over him, taking multiple angles this way and that, I tried not to admire the way he looked.
I also tried not to study his tattoos, or think about anything, really.
By the time Avery was announcing that she was finished and Dax jumped off the bed, I was more than ready to get home.
Dax, once allowed to get up, put his compression shirt and t-shirt back on, then tucked it all back into the waist of his pants.
All the while I studiously avoided looking at him.
“Ready, Freddy?” Dax asked.
It was then I realized that he was talking to me.
I gave a short, sharp nod. “Ready.”
“I’ll get back to you on which shot I choose,” Avery said as she started to go through the shots on her camera. “I’ll send a picture of it to the number you supplied for the photo release.”
Dax grimaced. “If it’s all the same, I’d rather not see it at all.”
Avery’s brows rose and she looked up from the camera.
“Okay,” Avery drawled. “Anything you want.”
Dax grumbled something under his breath and walked to the door, but on his way, he stopped and picked up my hat.
Detouring my way, he handed me the hat, waited for me to fit it onto my head, then gave a sharp nod.
“Let me go check to make sure that they’re not watching,” Dax offered.
I’d completely forgotten all about my brother being out there.
“I’ll get Dad to text him or something,” I muttered. “Or call. He’ll go somewhere quiet for that.”
Dax poked his head out of the room, then closed it behind him.
“He’s waiting while facing the door,” Dax said.
I pulled out my phone and texted my dad, who responded back immediately with, “Two seconds.”
And it wasn’t but another thirty seconds later that Dax opened the door to find Derek gone from the room.
> “Let’s roll,” he said, swinging the door wide.
Avery called out a distracted goodbye, and I gave a half-hearted wave before following quickly on Dax’s heels.
I don’t know what I expected when Dax led me outside to his vehicle.
But I wasn’t expecting to find a big black motorcycle airbrushed with flames.
I stopped when he picked up the helmet and handed it to me.
Blinking rapidly, I absently took the helmet, then stared at it as if I didn’t know what to do with it.
“You ever ridden before?” he asked.
No.
I swallowed hard.
“Dad never had a motorcycle,” I told him. “And though I dated a guy back in high school that had one of those sport bikes, he refused to allow me to get on it. Said it was dangerous, and if he ever caught me on the back of it, he’d write the kid a ticket. So I never got on it.” I paused. “Does he know that you ride a motorcycle? Because I don’t want him giving you a ticket when he realizes that he asked you to do something that would require me putting my life on the line.”
Dax chuckled then, taking the helmet out of my hand and then removing the hat from my head.
I felt the heat from the sun start to seep into my bald head.
It felt utterly nuts to me.
So wrong on so many levels.
“We’ll talk to him about that if it ever comes up again,” he said. “But I doubt he writes me a ticket seeing as I’m the one doing him a favor here.”
Doing him a favor.
Right.
Swallowing hard and looking away from Dax, I looked out at my car. Or where my car once was.
Now it was gone, and I assumed that my dad had it towed or something.
“Where’d you get this hat?” Dax asked as he fitted the helmet onto my head.
It was too loose.
By the time that he’d had it fastened all the way, tightened down as tight as it would go, it was still wobbling on my head.
I looked at the hat and took a step away.
“I picked it up at a truck stop,” I admitted. “I had one of those beanies on, but it looked absolutely ridiculous seeing as it was seventy degrees out.”
I didn’t see the smile that lit Dax’s face.
Nor did I see the way his eyes warmed at my comment.
“I like it,” he said. “It’s pretty comfy, too.”
When I looked at him again, he was wearing my hat, but backward.
I stared.
It looked better on him, too.
“Ready?” he asked.
I nodded once then eyed the bike that he wanted me to plant my ass on.
Dax mounted the bike with an effortlessness that was surprising for his size.
Then he offered me his hand and waited.
I took his proffered hand and tried to ignore the heat that seeped into me at where we were connected.
It was only a handhold.
It lasted all of five seconds while I mounted the bike behind him.
But it was everything.
For those five seconds, I pretended that I was his.
That my hand in his was where it was supposed to be.
When I finally settled on the seat behind him, I was unsure where to put my feet.
But before I could ask, he pointed to some foot pegs that I’d have never seen if he hadn’t pointed them out.
Once my feet were in place, he started the bike, and my entire body started to vibrate.
I didn’t let the ‘holy shit’ out of my mouth, but it was a very close thing.
“Hold on to me,” he ordered.
I placed my hands on his sides, and he laughed.
“No, hold on,” he ordered, then he showed me what he wanted me to do by taking my hands and wrapping them around him as far as they would go.
Due to the angle of my body and the short length of my arms, they didn’t touch, his chest was just that wide.
Or maybe I was just that small.
“Ready?” Dax called out.
“Yep.” I swallowed hard.
I wasn’t ready at all.
The awkward angle was making my back hurt, and I could see men gathering in the parking lot watching us.
There was no doubt in my mind that my father would hear about this from at least one of the five cops that were watching us now.
Dax ignored everyone and walked the bike backward out of the parking spot.
Once he had it as far as he needed it to go, he tapped something with his foot and started forward.
The sensation of falling had me scooting forward as far as I could go—as far as his gun belt would allow me to get.
Let’s just say it wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world to have whatever was on his back shoved up against my belly and ribs.
But I made do so that I could be closer to him.
When he took the turn out of the parking lot, I felt a lot more stable.
I also felt his chest start to shake as he laughed.
“What?” I asked.
“I’m not going to let you get hurt,” he promised.
I smiled.
“Thanks,” I said. “I’m just nervous.”
He looked at me over his shoulder and winked.
If he wouldn’t have already made his intentions perfectly clear, I would’ve smiled. Thought more into this than there was to think about.
As it was, I knew he was doing my dad a solid.
When the chief of police asked you to do something, you did it, whether you wanted to do it or not.
I wasn’t kidding myself.
I knew that had my dad not asked him to, he wouldn’t have spared a single look my way.
That was what happened with Rowen Roberts.
People ignored me.
I was a quiet woman that was rather thin.
I didn’t have much meat on my bones and the only thing I had going for me was my hair.
So now that that particular feature was gone, what did I have to offer?
Nothing.
When we finally arrived at my parents’ place, I’d gone almost numb behind Dax.
When he pulled to a stop and took his feet off the pegs to place them on the ground, I was already scrambling off.
After hastily yanking the helmet off my head, I handed it to him with a tight smile.
“Thank you,” I said stiffly.
His eyes met mine.
“Did you enjoy the ride?” he wondered.
I stopped, contemplating whether I’d enjoyed it or not.
I honestly hadn’t, but not because of the ride itself, but because of where my mind had wandered while we’d ridden.
“Yes,” I finally settled on, not wanting to upset him in any way since he’d done me a favor and taken me home. “It was okay.”
His eyes sparkled as he took the hat off and handed it to me.
I eyed the hat that would never look that good on my head, then waved it back at him.
“Keep it,” I said. “It was too big for my head anyway.”
Dax dropped his hand, his forearm still holding the hat coming to a rest on his thick, hard thigh.
“What are you doing tomorrow?” he asked.
I frowned, unsure why he was asking.
“Umm,” I hesitated. “Hopefully going to find a job and a place to live. I left mine.”
He tilted his head. “You don’t have a job lined up?”
I read between the lines.
He hadn’t said ‘you left your job and came all the way here without having a place to live or to work?’
I felt my back stiffen.
“I was interning for a firm in San Antonio,” I said. “My year was up today, actually. So I wouldn’t have had a job there much longer anyhow.”
Understanding dawned.
“You’re a lawyer?” he asked, looking intrigued.
“As of three day
s ago, yes I am.” I popped my collar, making a grin tug at the corners of his mouth.
“Congratulations,” he said. His eyes went to my head again. “I know some lawyers.”
My brows went up.
He pulled a pen out of his pocket—where had he hidden a pen?—then began to jot something down onto a business card that had also been in his pocket.
I frowned at the business card.
It was hot pink with little black embellishments on it.
The back, however, was completely blank. Leaving him room to write down—sloppily might I add—a name and a number. Then he handed it to me.
“Go here,” he suggested. “This is the man and wife team that took over for one of my dad’s buddies. They’re good. They got kids. You’ll like them.”
I blinked, surprised to see the card he was holding out to me.
“I’ll do that,” I said softly. “But, ummm, why do you have a lawyer’s number memorized?”
His lips twitched again.
“The male part of the lawyer duo is a friend of mine. We met while I was deployed. And they won’t care about your hair if you explain what happened.” He paused. “The wife? Her name is Janet Tolbert. She’s a badass. She just fought a case of bullying at the local high school. The minute that you meet her and tell her your story, she’s going to tell you all about it, I’m sure.”
I flipped the card over and blinked rapidly at it.
“Umm,” I said. “This is for stripper and pole dance lessons. Are you sure you don’t want to keep this?”
Dax’s face tipped up into a real grin this time, the edges of a few white teeth poking out as he did.
“I got the number in my phone already,” he admitted.
I wouldn’t ask. I wouldn’t ask. I wouldn’t ask.
Seriously, I wouldn’t.
But it sucked, honestly.
There he was getting a business card—that was likely for a date—from a stripper who taught pole dancing lessons.
And there I was with my head bald as the day I was born.
“Thanks,” I said as I glanced at the other side again. “And thank you for the ride.”
Dax winked. “Welcome.”
Then he started the bike up, leaving me standing in my parents’ driveway, watching him leave.
He didn’t look back.
I would’ve noticed.
I watched him until he disappeared out of sight.
The funny thing was, during the entire encounter that I had with Dax Tremaine, not once did I think about Theo.