Taming a Texas Devil (Bad Boy Ranch Book 5)

by Katie Lane

  Once they were safely inside, Lincoln climbed back in the truck. The scowl was still there and it became her goal to get those serious lips of his turned up into a smile.

  “Why did the star go to the bathroom?” she asked as he pulled around the looped driveway and headed back to town.

  He glanced over at her. “You’re drunk.”

  “Because she needed to twinkle.” When he didn’t crack a smile, she explained. “Get it. She needed to twinkle . . . like tinkle but twinkle because she’s a star.”

  He looked back at the road. “Funny. How long have you known Maisy Sweeney?”

  Dixie had never been the jealous type. She was competitive about everything but men. Probably because she’d always been able to get any man she wanted. Maybe that was why few men had held her attention for any length of time. But Lincoln had certainly grabbed her attention and she was more than a little annoyed that his focus was on another woman.

  “She’s a little young for you, isn’t she?”

  He glanced over at her. “I’m not interested in her in that way.”

  “It doesn’t seem like you’re interested in any woman that way,” she grumbled as she propped her high heeled feet up on his dashboard.

  He leaned over and removed them. “You’re right. Did Maisy tell you anything about her father?”

  So that was his interest in Maisy. It figured. Lincoln was all work and no play. “She didn’t tell me anything you probably don’t already know. He married her mama, got her knocked up, and then took off right after Maisy was born. She hasn’t seen or heard from him since.” She reached over and tapped him on the nose. “There. Are you satisfied? Now tell me about the woman who broke your heart.”

  He glanced over and raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think a woman broke my heart?”

  “Why else would you hate us so much?”

  He looked back at the road. “I don’t hate women. I’m just not interested in getting into a relationship right now.”

  “Because you still have a broken heart?” When he didn’t say anything, she took that as a yes. “Were you married?” Again silence. “Okay, so you were married and she cheated on you.”

  “She didn’t cheat on me. She just wasn’t happy. And I wasn’t really happy either.”

  So no broken heart. That was good to know. “Who asked for the divorce?”

  “She did.”

  “So, you’re one of those silent types who will stick with a woman even when you’re miserable just because you think it’s the right thing to do.” She watched his jaw tighten and had her answer. “Well, then hooray for her for being brave enough to get you both out of a bad situation. And now I guess it’s not women you don’t trust, it’s yourself. You feel like if your emotions tricked you once, they can trick you again.” She smiled and pointed a finger at him. “I’ve got your number now, Lincoln Hayes, Texas Ranger.”

  Before he could reply, a Luke Bryan song came on the radio. She released a squeal. “Oh, my God! This is my song.” She turned it up and spent the rest of the drive to her apartment seat-dancing and singing at the top of her lungs. She was still singing when Lincoln opened the passenger side door.

  “Would you lower your voice?” he snapped. “Do you want to wake the entire town with your caterwauling?”

  “Caterwauling? I hope you know that I won Little Miss Texas with my rendition of ‘Deep in the Heart of Texas.’ You want to hear?”

  He took her arm and helped her out of the truck. “No. I want you to be quiet.”

  “Being quiet isn’t my thing. And are you walking me to my door, Lincoln Hayes? You didn’t walk Maisy to hers.”

  “She wasn’t as drunk as you are.”

  “I’m not that drunk.” She stumbled over a crack in the sidewalk and Lincoln’s big hand settled on her waist and stayed there as he led her up the path to the front door.

  It had been a long time since a man had touched her, and she’d forgotten how nice it felt. Little sparks of heat radiated from the place where his hand rode her hip and settled in her tummy. And a few inches lower. She didn’t know if it was the alcohol or her sex-deprived body, but suddenly the idea of Lincoln placing his boots beneath her bed seemed like a good one. He was single. She was single. He was hot. She was hot. And getting hotter. When they reached the door, she stumbled again. Only this time, it was on purpose. When he went to catch her, she turned in his arms and hooked her arms around his neck.

  He froze, and she could feel his gloriously hard body tense. She knew enough about men to know he wasn’t tensing with distaste, but rather with the same sexual spark of attraction she felt. She could feel the rise and fall of his chest and the steady thump of his heart. In the shadow of his cowboy hat, she could see the glittering heat of his brown eyes. She licked her lips in preparation for the kiss she knew was coming. But instead of kissing her, he took a step back.

  “Give me your key so I can unlock your door,” he said in a low gravelly voice. Oh, yes, he was turned on. He was just fighting it. Too bad he was going to lose.

  She smiled seductively as she let her hands wander over his broad shoulders and hard chest. “It’s not locked.”

  “You don’t lock your door? You have absolutely no common sense at all, do you?”

  “Nope. Which is why I’m going to do this.” She leaned in and kissed him.

  His lips were the complete opposite of his body. They were extremely soft. Just not very welcoming. They remained tightly closed as she pressed hers against them. She slowly ran her tongue along the seam before taking a nip of his plump bottom lip and allowing it to slide along her top teeth. His hands tightened on her waist. For one brief second, his mouth opened in a taste of hot heat before he shoved her away.

  “Enough,” he growled in a low, dangerous voice. He turned and opened her door, pushing it so hard it hit the wall. A tiny ball of white fur streaked out and attached itself to his leg.

  “What the hell?” He stumbled back.

  Dixie quickly detached Queenie from Lincoln’s leg and cuddled her close. “You’re just the best watch-kitty ever, aren’t you, precious?”

  Lincoln scowled at Queenie. “Precious, my ass.”

  The hilarity of her cat attacking the big ol’ Texas Ranger finally caught up with her and she started to giggle. She must’ve still been drunk because the giggles turned into a full-out laugh that she couldn’t seem to control. Her knees gave out and she sank down on the stoop right at Lincoln’s boots. The tiny rips in his jeans made her laugh even harder. In the midst of her laughter, she heard an exasperated sigh before he scooped both her and Queenie up in his arms and carried them into the apartment. He took her to her bedroom and deposited her on her bed. As she continued to giggle, he slipped off her Manolo Blahnik heels and tossed them to the floor.

  He shook his head. “Riding a mechanical bull in high heels.” He spread the sheet from her mussed bed over her. “Goodnight, Deputy Meriwether.” He headed for the door.

  She sobered. “Wait! Don’t you want to leave your boots under my bed?”

  He didn’t even turn around. “Not a chance.”

  Dixie was one of those rare people who didn’t get hangovers. She woke up after her night of partying at Cotton-Eyed Joe’s just like she had woken up every day for the last six months—with a smile on her face and the strong desire to best her daddy at his own game. She really thought the entire missing persons case was going to do it. If her daddy thought there was a murderer loose in Simple and it was her job to catch him, he was bound to give in.

  The sound of a toilet flushing had her eyes flashing open. It had to have been in the apartment next to her. Except she had never heard Mr. Jenkins flush his toilet before. Or turn on the water. Or cuss in a sexy baritone voice.

  Dixie sat up and stared at her closed door.

  There was a Texas Ranger in her apartment. And the only reason she could come up with for Lincoln Hayes staying the night was that he was as interested in her as she was in him. He just ha
dn’t wanted to take advantage of a drunk woman. Which made perfect sense. It was obvious the man lived by a high moral code. Just not so high he was above staying the night at a woman’s house and hoping for a little morning delight. Even without a liberal amount of alcohol in her system, Dixie discovered she still wanted Lincoln Hayes naked in her bed.

  She hurried into her bathroom, peed, brushed her teeth, and fixed her mussed hair before she headed out to the living room. Lincoln was just pulling on his shirt and she got a glimpse of hard muscles and a dark-haired chest that made her mouth water before he quickly shielded them from view. When he turned back around, his shirt was snapped almost all the way to his throat.

  Good thing she was extremely talented at unsnapping. “Good mornin’,” she said. “You slept on my couch last night?” She glanced at the neat stack of blankets and pillows Queenie now slept on.

  “That exercise machine in your other bedroom looked a little uncomfortable.”

  She shrugged and sent him a wide-eyed innocent look. “You could’ve shared my bed.”

  He studied her for a moment before he glanced at the front door. “Your lock is broken.”

  “Which is why I can’t lock it. The landlord keeps claiming that he’s going to fix it, but he hasn’t yet. Is that why you stayed? You were concerned for my life?”

  “After your little escapade at Cotton-Eyed Joe’s last night, I wouldn’t have been surprised if some fool hadn’t come calling to see if you wanted to take another ride . . . just not on a mechanical bull.”

  His protectiveness made her feel all tingly inside. She moved closer. “I guess you witnessed my little ol’ bull ride. What did you think?”

  “I thought it was the most unprofessional display of stupidity I’ve ever seen in my life.”

  All desire for the Texas Ranger drained right out of Dixie. If there was one thing she hated more than people laughing at her, it was being called stupid.

  “Stupidity?”

  “What would you call getting drunk and making a fool of yourself in front of the entire town you’re supposed to be protecting?” He sat down on the couch and tugged on a boot. Queenie jumped down from her perch and rubbed against his side. He gave the cat a good scratching as he continued. “Being a law officer doesn’t end at five o’clock, Deputy Meriwether. An officer of the law is on duty twenty-four-seven. But you’re not on duty ever, are you? All you do is hide in your office and give yourself facials. And when you did finally have to step up to the plate and confront a kid shoplifting, you couldn’t even do that well. I don’t know why you wanted this job and I don’t care. What I do care about are the people of this community being stuck with a ditzy deputy who doesn’t give a damn about them.” He tugged on his other boot and stood. “I don’t know what lame brain helped you make this career choice, but they were dead wrong. You aren’t cut out for a career in law enforcement. In fact, you’re the worst deputy I’ve ever seen in my life. So do everyone a favor, including yourself, and turn in your resignation.” He grabbed his hat off the coffee table and tugged it on. “And I’m through babysitting a spoiled beauty queen.”

  He turned and walked out the door, slamming it behind him.

  Dixie stood there stunned for a few seconds before she hurried to the door and jerked it open. He was just driving away so she ran out and yelled at him. “Well, it’s better than being a grumpy, emotionless jerk who probably can’t even get it up!”

  “Wow. That’s harsh.”

  She turned to see Cheyenne standing on the sidewalk holding the handles of a bike. “Oh . . . hi, Cheyenne.”

  Cheyenne watched Lincoln’s truck disappear around the corner before she rolled her bike up the path. “So you and Officer Hayes have a thing going?”

  “No. We do not have a thing going.”

  “Then why were you fighting?”

  Because she wanted to have a thing going, but Lincoln had turned her down flat. And called her stupid to boot. She was not stupid. Okay, so maybe she hadn’t been such a great deputy. But she wasn’t a bad deputy. She hadn’t thrown her weight around like Sheriff Willaby and handed out tickets for minor things like not stopping long enough at a stop sign and driving in the passing lane. She’d left the people of Simple alone.

  Maybe too alone.

  She sank down on the front porch steps to massage her temples, which were now throbbing. She heard the clatter of a bike being dropped before Cheyenne joined her on the steps.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m a horrible deputy.”

  “No, you’re not. You saved my butt.”

  Dixie glanced up. “Only because Officer Hayes figured out what you were doing. If not for him, I would’ve embarrassed you in front of the entire pharmacy.”

  “But you were the one who charmed my daddy so all I got was a stern lecture and you gave me enough courage to talk to him about why I did it. He got a little embarrassed, but then we had a good talk and he gave me enough money to buy what I needed. That wouldn’t have happened without you.”

  “I’m not sure that comes under deputy duties.”

  “Why not? Aren’t law enforcement officers supposed to protect their community? Well, you were protecting me. You didn’t do it with a gun, instead you did it with your charm—something Sheriff Willaby never used. He just threatened people with his gun or throwing them in jail. Which made everyone hate him. They don’t hate you.”

  “They don’t like me.”

  Cheyenne’s hesitation said it all. “That’s because they don’t know you. I didn’t much like you until yesterday.” She shrugged. “I thought you were kinda stuck up.”

  Stuck up? For a woman who had prided herself on winning Miss Congeniality, that hurt. But she couldn’t deny it. She had been acting stuck up by hiding away in the sheriff’s office and not making an effort to interact with the people of the town. And why? Because she was afraid of having a run-in with a real criminal? But there were no criminals in Simple. Just young girls who needed a little guidance, and Dixie had proved she could handle that. And if she could handle a shoplifter, maybe she could handle the other minor crimes that took place in the town.

  At least until her daddy gave in.

  In the meantime, she would stop hiding and do her job.

  She’d prove to that arrogant Texas Ranger she wasn’t a spoiled ditz of a deputy.

  Chapter Eight

  “Now this here is the best deadbolt on the market.” Boone Murphy pointed to one of the three locks he had gotten for Lincoln. “If you have a good sturdy door, no one is going to be getting through this.”

  Lincoln nodded. “Then that’s the one I’ll take.”

  “But these other two aren’t bad either. I mean we haven’t had a break in here in Simple since Floyd Sims had to break into his own house when his wife locked him out for staying at Cotton-Eyed Joe’s too late. His wife is one mean-spirited wo—’

  Emma Johansen came out of the back. “For the love of God, could you just shut up. He came in to buy a deadbolt, not to have his ear chewed off for an hour.”

  “Speaking of mean-spirited women.” Boone shot a glance at Emma.

  She socked him in the arm. “You better watch it, Boone Murphy. I took you down in third grade and I can take you down now.”

  “I hope you’re taking notes, Lincoln,” Boone said. “If I show up dead, you’ll know where to look.”

  Lincoln kept his mouth shut. He knew better than to get involved in a domestic argument. The two owners of the Simple Hardware store fought like cats and dogs, and according to town gossip had been fighting ever since they were in high school. He wasn’t sure why their fathers had given them each half ownership in their business. Or why Boone or Emma hadn’t sold out to the other one. It was a strange situation. One he wanted no part of.

  Just like he wanted no part of babysitting Deputy Meriwether. Unfortunately, he didn’t have much choice. He’d been given a job and Lincoln always completed a job. Until the deputy quit—which he hoped would be
soon—she was his responsibility. He intended to keep an eye on her, but from a distance. Getting too close had proven to be a bad mistake. One he had no intentions of making again.

  “Did you want to pay with cash or credit?” Emma asked.

  “Credit.” He intended to give the bill to Dixie’s lazy landlord. He slid his credit card into the card machine while Emma bagged his deadbolt.

  “Is this for Chester and Lucas?” she asked. “With their house being so new, I wouldn’t think they’d need a new lock already.”

  Before Lincoln could answer, Boone spoke. “I know who it’s for. Deputy Meriwether. Her landlord, Jimmy Jones, mentioned that he needed to fix the lock on her apartment. But that man is as slow as molasses at fixing things.” He winked at Lincoln. “And we have to protect our women.”

  “The deputy isn’t my woman.”

  Boone cocked his head. “You sure acted like she was last night at Cotton-Eyed Joe’s when you scooped her off that bull.”

  “I was just helping out a drunk friend.”

  Boone glanced down at the bag. “Sure. I guess the deputy is too busy to buy her own lock.”

  Lincoln knew sarcasm when he heard it. Everyone in town had to know that the deputy didn’t do her job. Why she had decided to become a deputy was beyond him. She had probably watched some cop show and thought it would be fun to ride around in a patrol car with the sirens blaring. Now she was stuck in a job she was completely ill suited for. And he couldn’t understand why she didn’t just quit. Living the life of a senator’s daughter in Austin had to be more exciting and fun for her than being a deputy in a small town that didn’t even have a shopping mall or spa.

  So why was she here?

  It was a question that had kept him up the last two nights. That and trying to forget the way the deputy’s body and lips had felt pressed against his. Even now, he could recall the feel of her hot tongue as all those sweet curves melted against him. He had been seconds away from taking her up on her offer. Thankfully, numerous factors kept him from it: He didn’t have sex with drunk women. He didn’t have sex with other law officers. And he didn’t have sex with people he was supposed to be keeping an eye on. Dixie was a job. Nothing more.