“This is his mother.”
“Mrs. Weston, my name is Officer Hayes and I’m here with your son. There’s been an accident.”
“What? Oh my God! Is he okay? Where?”
“Mrs. Weston, calm down. He’s fine, but he’s got some burns to the left hand. Some kids were playing with fireworks and one exploded too close. The paramedics are working on him now and they’ll be taking him to the emergency room at Red Rock Hospital to be evaluated. You can meet him there.”
“Thank you, officer. We’ll be there in a few minutes.”
The phone clicked in her ear and Laurel pulled it away to stare at it a minute. She shook her head and moved back toward the paramedics, leaving the phone on Matt’s abdomen. “His parents will meet you at the hospital.”
“Thanks. Officer?” the guy who’d given her the once over asked, hinting for her name.
“Hayes,” she supplied. He wasn’t bad looking. Short blond hair, green eyes and muscled all in the right places. Cute.
“Do you have a first name, Officer Hayes?” he asked.
She hesitated for a moment. “Laurel.”
“Nice to meet you, Laurel. I’m Chance Dalton.”
“Dalton!” his buddy snapped. “You can do your flirting later. We’ve got a kid we need to get to the hospital.”
“See ya around, Laurel.”
“Probably not.”
Chance winked and grinned from ear to ear as they lifted the stretcher and wheeled Matt to the ambulance.
Laurel rolled her eyes and headed for the patrol car to do the paperwork. The flashing blue lights were shut off with a flick of the switch as she settled behind the wheel.
The growl of a diesel engine caught her attention. She lifted her head just in time to see a big Chevy truck run a red light.
Tossing the clipboard onto the seat next to her, she turned on her blue lights again and pulled away from the curb. With her foot hard on the pedal, she quickly gained on the truck, waiting until it pulled over to the side of the road. She radioed into dispatch her whereabouts and the situation before she got out of the car.
There appeared to be a man behind the wheel with a black cowboy hat on. Not like every man in the area doesn’t wear a hat around here.
Stepping up to the driver’s side door, she tapped on the window and indicated for the man to roll the window down.
“Do you know why I pulled you over, sir?”
“Laurel?”
She looked into the cab of the truck and sighed. “Mr. Dunn.” Great. Running into Kale like this, isn’t going to be good. “Can I see your license and registration please?”
Kale shut the truck off and popped the driver’s side door.
“Stay in your vehicle, Mr. Dunn.”
“Come on, Laurel. It’s me, Kale. What’s the problem?”
“I know who you are, but I’m also on duty. I need your license and registration,” she replied, stepping back and dropping her palm on the butt of the gun at her hip.
“Fine,” he growled, leaning over to the glove compartment and pulling out some papers. Next came his wallet from his back pocket. “Here.”
“I’ll be right back.” She walked back to the cruiser, arguing with herself over calling in his information. She really didn’t know anything about him at all other than he owned a good size ranch outside of town and he had the most delicious mouth she’d ever seen on a man—a mouth she’d fantasized about half the night.
Procedure said she had to call it in. “Dispatch. Run this license plate please.” After she called off the numbers, she waited for the results to come as she watched Kale tap his fingers on the edge of the driver’s side window. Long and lean, those fingers could do wonderful things to her body if she’d take him up on his offer. I bet the calluses I felt last night, would feel really nice on my skin.
“Car twelve?”
“Go ahead dispatch.”
“License clear. Belongs to Kale Anthony Dunn.” The dispatcher went on to rattle off his address which matched his driver’s license and Laurel tuned out the rest of the information while she checked out his height, weight, eye color and birth date. Mmm. Thirty-two, huh. With a birthday coming up. Interesting. A pause in the dispatcher’s voice brought her attention back to the situation at hand. “Ten-four.”
She grabbed her ticket book, opened her door, and walked toward his truck.
“Are you really going to give me a ticket, Laurel?” he asked, pushing the door open and hooking his boots on the running board.
“You ran the light, Kale.”
“I didn’t see it.”
“Likely excuse. Not like I haven’t heard that one at least a hundred times,” she replied, scratching out the information on the paper she had over the top of the ticket. “It’s Saturday night and there are several teenagers running around town. You could have easily T-boned someone at the intersection. Where are you headed in such a hurry?”
“Home.”
“Alone?” The question spilled from her mouth before she could stop it and she mentally kicked herself for asking.
One eyebrow shot up and a wicked grin spread across his mouth. “Yes, alone. Care to join me?”
“I’m on duty.”
“What time do you get off?”
“Seven in the morning.”
“Well damn.”
She handed him the folded piece of paper. “I’m letting you off with a warning. Next time, be more careful.” Before he could read the paper, she spun on her heel and retreated to her car.
After she got behind the wheel, she risked a glance at the back of his truck only to see him adjust his side mirror so she could see his face. He tipped his hat and blew her a kiss. The piece of paper she’d given him flashed in the mirror, clearly showing where she’d written her phone number in big bold letters with a pair of lips hanging from the five at the end.
Chapter Three
“What a sassy red-head,” Kale said out loud after he pulled away from the curb. A hearty chuckle left his mouth as he continued down the road toward his place with thoughts of getting her naked and panting beneath him came to mind. “Oh, yeah. Soon, all that fiery temper and smart mouth will be begging and calling my name when she comes around me.” He glanced at the paper with her number on it lying on the seat next to him and smiled. “And here I thought going home alone again tonight sucked after I ran into Natalie and Cade at the bar. Leave it to Natalie to run her hand over my ass right there in the bar in front of her husband and everyone.”
It had been fantastic to see them out and about. Since their son was born a few months ago, he knew they hadn’t been able to have much alone time.
After she’d goosed his butt, he got them into one of the empty booths and they chatted for a while about the baby, their house, what he’d been up to and his lack of female companionship. Naturally, Natalie started in with the matchmaking thing again. God love her, but she needed to leave well enough alone.
“You need a woman, Kale.”
“No, I don’t, Nat.”
“Yes, you do. A nice girl to come home to after you’ve been out working on the ranch all day. A home-cooked meal, a few kids running around your big house. A son you can teach to do all those things you do with the cattle and horses.” Natalie had gone on and on about a friend of hers and then another friend while he leaned back in the booth and rested his arm across the back of the vinyl. Cade held her hand while she continued to talk, but would shoot him a “be patient” grin every few minutes. Kale had come to the conclusion his buddy was pussy-whipped.
Kale shook his head when his attention returned to the road in front of him. “I can’t see Red being the nice girl to come home to. Staying home cooking and cleaning didn’t fit her personality. If Natalie gets wind of my interest in Laurel, I’d never live it down.” He glanced at Laurel’s number again on the seat. When she’d slipped the piece of paper toward him and walked away all kind of thoughts raced across his mind. After he had opened it and realized
it held her number and an open invitation to call her, his thoughts went haywire. Hot sweaty sex, his lips dancing over her exquisitely soft skin, his fingers trailing over her mound and dipping between her pussy lips to find her drenched and ready for him, all came into sharp focus. His cock ached for her kind of lovin’.
“All right. Thinking about her right now is bad unless I want to go home and jack off with her on my mind again.”
The long dirt driveway to his house came into view. The two story ranch style house, with its wraparound porch was home. He thanked his lucky stars every day for his ex-wife’s hatred of the place. It kept her from taking it in their divorce.
He parked his truck to the left side and climbed out of the cab. The dry hot air of the Montana night washed across his skin and ruffled the slight curl of his hair near his neck. The inky blackness of the sky gave him the perfect view of the stars. Nothing could compare to the Montana sky at night. One lone shooting star zipped across the black canvas and disappeared into the dark horizon. Coyotes yipped in the distance. Cattle bawled to each other in an answering call to their young. Winter would be upon them before they knew it and the long days of checking cattle, making sure they had feed and keeping the water from icing over, stretched into oblivion. Snow season here meant more work.
Why the hell did I ever decide to be a rancher? “Because it’s in your blood and your heart,” he said knowing the answer before he had even thought the question. He’d tried to do something different when he went off to college and got a degree in architecture, but the wide open plains and the jagged mountain ranges, called him home shortly after graduation. The hopes and dreams of a young married man with his beautiful wife in tow, rested in the pastures of his home.
The moment Judy saw the place, she despised it. He managed to convince her to give it a shot for a year, hoping she would fall in love with the house and the land. She hadn’t. The only good thing to come of her move to Montana, in her eyes, came from her friendship and subsequent love affair with Cade’s wife, Cynthia.
Kale walked inside the house and shut the door behind him. Silence met his ears. The same silence crept in on him every night of every day of the week and he hated it. He stopped at the stereo system against the wall and flipped on the radio. Any noise would do right now.
“I should have taken the brunette at the bar up on her offer to go home with me. I'd rather it be Laurel here, but hell, this alone shit is gettin' old,” he grumbled moving toward the kitchen for a beer from the fridge. “At least I would be getting laid right now instead of sittin’ here drinking alone.” With a twist of his wrist, he popped off the cap and tipped the bottle to his lips. Cold, malty liquid slid down his throat and quenched the dryness.
He took a seat on the leather couch, grabbed the remote, and flipped on the television. Channel after channel yielded nothing but old movies, news, or boring sitcoms. The radio in the background wanted to play country tunes about being alone or losing the one you loved.
Kale toed off his boots and stretched out on the couch. A crinkling sound caught his attention and he pulled the folded piece of paper out of his pocket. Staring at the bold numbers and the pair of lips dangling from the five, he wondered if it was her home number or her cell. He smiled and ran his thumb over the drawing, thinking about her tempting full lips, her sparkling blue eyes and the full head of red hair cascading down her back like it was at the bar the other night. It wasn’t flaming red or orange like some red-heads he’d seen. Nope. Laurel’s hair looked soft and alive with every movement she made—every strand caught the light and reflected it back in a brilliance of strawberry and gold. His fingers itched like crazy to run through her tresses and wrap his hands in them while she sucked his cock deep into her mouth.
Unable to stop himself, he grabbed his cell and dialed the number.
“Hello?” The sleepy murmur coming over the phone didn’t sound like Laurel at all.
“I’m sorry. I think I have the wrong number,” he said and hit end. “Well that was pretty stupid, you dumbass. You obviously woke up someone in her house.” The clock on his cell phone read two-thirty. “Shit. It’s fucking two in the morning. No wonder whoever answered was sleeping. Well no use sittin’ here gettin’ all worked up.” He stood, shut off the television and stereo, and quickly finished his beer before walking up the stairs to his bedroom.
* * * *
The bong of the doorbell brought Kale upright in bed with a confused blink. “Who in the hell is at the door at—” He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “At seven fucking thirty on a Sunday?”
He grumbled and cussed some more, while he tugged on a pair of sweatpants and stumbled down the stairs as the bell went off again.
“Yeah. I’m comin’.” He yanked open the door and growled, “What?”
Blue police uniform and red hair caught his attention moments before she turned around and slid her sunglasses down her nose with one finger. “I-uh. I’m sorry, Kale, but I realized after I stopped you last night, I still had your driver’s license.” Her gaze swept over him from head to toe and interest sparkled in the blue depths. “Did I wake you?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“I was on my way home and I figured I’d drop this off.” She had his driver’s license sandwiched between two fingers.
He hadn’t even noticed the missing license last night. Once she’d handed him her phone number and waltzed back to her car, his mind hadn’t been on the missing license or registration. Her tight ass, those blue pants, and whether she’d let him use her handcuffs on the bed’s headboard cluttered his mind all the way to the ranch.
“Care for some coffee now that I’m awake?” he asked, taking the piece of plastic from her fingers after he pushed the screen open.
“If you’re sure I’m not keeping you up,” she said, sweeping through the doorway.
The scent of lemon followed her into the house and his thoughts drifted to her last words. Keeping me up isn’t a problem, darlin’.
He walked behind her toward the kitchen. “The coffee will be ready in a few minutes. How did the rest of your shift go?”
“Good. Not much trouble at all.”
“Nothin’ like Los Angeles, I imagine.”
“Not even close. Most shifts, I worked at least one homicide a day out there. Here it’s traffic stops, kids with firecrackers, a cow loose on Rancher John’s property—you know.” She shrugged.
“I bet Red Rock is kind of boring for you then,” he replied, hitting the start button on the coffee maker and returning to the living room.
The open floor plan of the house kept things flowing between the rooms, making it much easier to keep up the conversation.
“No, not really. It’s kinda nice actually,” she said from the spot she’d taken up near the bay window. “You’ve got a beautiful view from here. Is all of the pasture back there your land?”
“Yes,” he murmured near her ear.
She spun around to face him, startled by the closeness of his voice. Her gaze swept from his eyes, over his bare torso and down his abdomen. No way she could miss the morning wood he sported. The moment he’d opened the door to find her standing on his porch, his dick jumped to attention in a full raging hard-on.
“Let me go throw a T-shirt on,” he said, stepping back, hoping the distance would give him a little breathing room.
“Don’t get dressed on my account,” she replied in a breathless whisper as she moved close and tipped her head back.
The strawberry pink of her lips parted and her eyes sparkled in the bright morning light. Her fingertips seared the skin of his chest like a hot branding iron.
“Laurel,” he murmured. “You’re playin’ with fire, darlin’.”
Lips brushed his chest and he stifled a groan. “I need the heat, Kale. It’s been a long time for me.”
He wrapped his hand in her long, red hair and tugged her close so he could pull her mouth to his. The touch of her lips burned him clear to the center of his soul. Tong
ues mated and danced, from her mouth to his and back. She tasted of peppermint, chocolate, and woman. The rough material of her uniform rubbed over his skin, abrading his nipples, and bringing them to aching points. Both of her hands went up around his shoulders and behind his neck as she angled her mouth against his and swallowed the moan he released. The twin shirttails slid from her waistband with a tug of his fingers. The need to feel her skin—every inch of the creamy flesh he’d seen the other day—drove him past rational thought. His lips left hers to blaze a trail over her cheek to the tempting flesh of her ear. He nibbled and licked as his fingers worked the buttons of her shirt until it parted under his hands.
“So soft,” he murmured, trailing his tongue down her neck. Sharp, short pants rasped through the air when he lifted his mouth from her skin.
The shirt fell to the floor at their feet followed quickly by her bra. Gorgeous, rosy nipples met his gaze. Full breasts—just enough to fill his hands, took his breath away. “Damn you’re gorgeous, honey.”
The buckle at her waist clinked and rattled when he unfastened it. Fortunately, she left her heavy belt, gun and assorted cop paraphernalia in the car.
“Let me,” she murmured, jerking the belt until it fell loose at her waist and her pants dropped to the floor.
Black lace panties caught his eye and he smiled. “Nice.”
“Not my usual work attire. You got lucky.”
“Lucky is my middle name where you’re concerned, darlin’.” The thumb on each hand slipped beneath the edges of that sexy underwear and peeled them down her hips. They pooled with the growing pile of her clothes.
“Lord have mercy. You are a sight for sore eyes, honey.” His lips trailed across her chest, stopped to suck a pert nipple between his lips, and continued down her flat abdomen until his nose stopped at her pubic bone. “Open.” Her thighs quivered under his hands when she spread her legs. “Lean back on the arm of the chair behind you.” Pink, blood engorged pussy lips met his gaze, driving him insane with the need to taste her. Juices glistened on the outer aspect of the treasure he sought. The scent of her arousal surrounded him as he inhaled and rubbed his whiskered cheek over her inner thigh, knowing he would be leaving whisker burn on spots he hoped he’d see again. He slipped her legs over his shoulders and braced his hands on her hips. One swipe of his tongue on her clit and more thick cream spilled from her pussy as a desperate moan left her lips.
Before The Night Is Over Page 4
