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Lone Star Burn: Watching you (Kindle Worlds Novella)
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Text copyright ©2016 by the Author.
This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by RCardello LLC. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Lone Star Burn remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of RCardello LLC, or their affiliates or licensors.
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Watching You
By
Aliyah Burke
Blurb
Heat in Texas comes from more than one source…
US Deptuy Marshal Teena Mason is stranded. Not in a big town, no, but near a small town named Fort Mavis. After waiting hours in the Texas heat she is rescued and gets a room to rent. When she’s grabbing a bite to eat, she’s reunited with a man she didn’t even know lived here. One she’s had a fling with on occasion.
US Marshal Patrick West is both shocked and pleased when he finds the woman he meets for weekends of hot sex in his hometown. He wants to convince her there is more than just their clandestine meetings between them. Can he show her that he knows more about her than what pertains to the bedroom? Will he have the chance when they are both called back to duty on put on the trail of killers?
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
More Books in the Lone Star Burn series
Additional Books by Aliyah Burke
About the Author
Chapter One
“Are you seriously kidding me with this luck right now?” Teena Mason kicked the front tire of her government issue SUV only to swear once more as pain radiated through her foot and on to her leg. The steam rising from the hood did little to improve her mood. “Figures. The one time I step up and be nice to my coworker, I get stranded.” She threw her arms up. “In Texas. On some hot ass day that I’m sure means Satan is renting out his home, to take a vacation somewhere nice and cool.”
She winced from her dramatic behavior. “Shouldn’t have done that,” she muttered. She still bore battle scars from her latest assignment, injured ribs. “My fault. Should have known better.”
Teena dug her cell phone out of her suit coat pocket and wished she wore a skimpy camisole and short shorts instead. This pantsuit was hell.
“See that, Satan. I’m apparently now in your armpit. I want to leave. I have places to be.” Namely, her place in New Orleans, Louisiana. “Of course, no bars.” She moved back to the open passenger door. It may be Texas and it may be out in the middle of nowhere but she hadn’t lost the good sense God gave her to be hanging out on the side closest to the road. The interior was its own personal circle of hell as she sat on the seat, trying to activate her GPS service to call for assistance.
Nothing happened when she turned the key. At all. She rubbed the back of her neck and groaned. Not even any juice to call for help. Hopping down, she trekked to the back and opened the rear door. Reaching in, she drew out a bottle of water and uncapped it before indulging. There was an entire case in there. A habit she’d been ingrained with many years ago. With two more in hand, she returned to the front passenger seat.
Not even a breeze could be mustered up to blow and help alleviate the heat. She kept checking her phone, hoping a signal would decide to miraculously appear. No such luck. She also didn’t leave the safety of the truck, that would have also been an insane move. Here she had shelter, water, and the chance of being passed by a truck, car…hell, even a tractor.
She chuckled. “I’d take a ride on a tractor if it got me to a phone that worked.”
When the sun had begun lowering in the sky, she wanted nothing more than a shower and a bed. “Christ, I’m going to be sleeping in this damn vehicle. You owe me big, Jason.”
She leaned back in the seat and used a damp paper towel to dab the sweat off her face and neck. The whoop, whoop behind her, had her cranking her head around to peer out the window.
A large, older SUV with a cherry bar on top had pulled up and stopped, lights flashing.
“Thank God.” She settled back in her seat.
“Evening.”
How does one sound so damn chipper in this heat? Even Satan would be in a mood. But this man—at least his voice—sounded in a good mood.
“Hi,” she said angling her body toward the man in uniform.
“You having car trouble?”
She bit back her sarcastic remark. No sense in picking a fight with the local LEOs. “Yes, sir. It up and died on me. Was steaming but now, won’t even turn over a tiny bit. Is there a town nearby I could get some help from? I don’t have any signal here for my phone.”
He crossed his arms over a barrel like chest. “Lot of dead spots along this here road.”
“Figures, there would be in hell,” she muttered. She sat forward and reached for her purse.
“Hands on the dash, nice and easy.” The good mood had slipped away leaving with it the serious business tone of a cop.
Teena followed his demand, moving slow so he didn’t spook. “Teena Mason, US Marshal.” She placed her hands on the hot dashboard, biting back her moan of discomfort from both ribs and palms.
“Badge.”
“Left inside pocket of my suit coat.” She ground her teeth, pissed at herself for not identifying herself when he first arrived.
“Two fingers, right hand. Then transfer to your left and give it to me.”
“Sure.”
He snatched it from her.
She watched from the corner of her eye, having replaced her hand on the dash once it had been passed over.
“Don’t move,” he ordered.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” I’ll never hear the end of this now, when it gets back to them. The people she worked with would have a field day with this.
“Sorry about that,” he said, the deep Texas twang rolling off his tongue.
“I understand. You’re just doing your job.” Teena put her badge back. “You saw a gun and reacted. No harm, no foul.”
“Let me call you a tow. How long have you been out here?”
She settled back against the seat and thought about snow. Nice, cold snowy day with below zero temperatures. “Going on four hours now.”
“Good thing you didn’t wander. We’re thirty miles from Fort Mavis and I’m still not sure how you got on this road. Hardly used anymore.”
“Gathered that,” her sarcastic remark spilled free.
“Purdy little thing like you would get lost out here. How’d you become a Marshal?”
Purdy lil’ thing. The fact it didn’t annoy her half as much as it typically would was a testament to how exhausted she truly felt. “Worked my ass off.” There was no heat in her tone. “And technically, it’s Deputy Marshal.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m sure you did.” His tone changed a bit as if aware her goodwill was nearing its end.
She stood beside him and thought about her wrong turn. It’s my fault for thinking it was a good idea to take a short cut. Have I complained about that yet? No? Well, I’m sure I will again.
“Come on, I’ll take you to town, you can get a hotel. I’m sure they’ll have your car fixed as soon as they can.”
“And there is cell service there?” She swiped her bag and a few more bottles of water from the back.
“Yes. Just none along this stretch of road.” He held the door of his tan and green SUV open for her. “Who sent you here, I mean this way?”
“As much
as I’d love to blame someone other than myself, it’s all on me.”
He climbed up and the vehicle rocked in response to his large frame. “Unusual to find a fed who doesn’t blame someone else.”
“To you perhaps. For me, it’s a local LEO who isn’t pissed a fed is in their vicinity.”
His booming laughter relaxed her along with the air moving over her. No, it wasn’t a cool breeze by any stretch, it was hot and acrid, but she took it willingly. The movement was more than enough.
“I’m going to drop you off at the hotel. Travis will tow your suburban and I’ll have him swing by the diner to give you an update.”
She fought a yawn. “Okay. Wait, why is he filling me in at a diner?”
“Figured you’d be hungry. He could talk to you while you ate. Food’s filling and tasty. You’ll like it.” He depressed the accelerator and they shot away faster as the first few stars popped from behind the dark indigo of the night sky. “Unless you don’t eat.”
“I eat,” she said gazing out over the vast pasture land. Before she’d been able to see the mixed greens of grasses but now it was nothing but emptiness, not split with artificial building lights.
“Good. They’re not far apart. Within walking distance. I will check on you come morning to make sure you fare well enough overnight.”
“Thank you.”
He grinned. “Protect and serve.”
She leaned back and tried not to yawn. Tried. Failed. More stars blinked into view and she took a deep breath, smelling cattle on the hot air. Hotel, food, and a shower. All she had to do was get some bars and check in. Perhaps she would get some sleep here. No case. No work. Hell, no car.
A day of sleep sure sounded divine. She held her tongue as they continued toward Fort Mavis. When the city lights twinkled in the distance, she readjusted in her seat. “How large is Fort Mavis?”
“Typical ranching community. Sprawling ranches, both cattle and horses are raised here. Small downtown.”
“And the law in this isolated town?”
“Sheriff Carlton is the man in charge. I’ve told him we had a fed in town. He’s a bit busy, so not sure if you’ll see him.”
“Okay.” She didn’t need to speak to him. She wasn’t here in this town on business.
They pulled up in front of a small motel and she climbed out. Making her way to the door, she stopped and glanced over her shoulder to wave at the man who’d rescued her.
He honked and drove away.
Then she pushed her way in the building.
A short woman in a blue dress with a wide smile approached the counter. “Hey honey. We have a room ready for you. Don’t be concerned. B called me and explained the situation. May not seem like much but the rooms are nice and clean.” She placed a key—an actual key—on the countertop. “Just need your John Hancock and you can go get settled. Would you like me to call in an order for you at the diner?”
Teena withdrew a pen from her pocket and clicked it. “No thank you. I appreciate the offer though.”
“Fort Mavis is full of kind people. Small town folk. Are you from a small town?”
“No ma’am. Born and raised in New Orleans, Louisiana.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I’ve decided to like you anyway.”
“Again, I appreciate it.”
Another award winning smile. “Let me show you to your room. Then I’ll leave you alone.”
“No problem.” She checked her phone as she followed the woman—still didn’t know her name—and smiled at the sight of bars. Coverage. It was a wonderful thing.
After another story—off tangent—Teena stood alone in the clean room. Simple but nice. And clean, such an important thing for her.
She tossed her bag on the bed and stripped out of her suit jacket. Hanging it over the chair to start air drying, she unbuttoned the first two buttons of her shirt, paused to removed her shoulder holster then stripped down to her bra. “God this is so much better.” The air conditioning blew over her heated skin. “First things first.” She grabbed her phone and called her partner.
“You okay?” Frank Danvers asked straight from the jump.
“No, I’m not. Vehicle broke down and I’m in some small ranching town called Fort Mavis.”
Silence then laughter. Lots of laughter.
“Seriously, Danvers? This isn’t funny. You should be here. Or rather, Jason should be. I took this for him.”
“Which is why my ass took the plane.”
She snarled and put it on speaker. “You knew this would happen?”
“Of course not. But I’m glad it was you”— more laughter, “—and not me.”
“Stick your head in a washer.” She undid her pants. “I’m here until it gets fixed.”
“I’ll let everyone know.” He cleared his throat. “You are okay, right?” His question serious this time.
“I will be. After a shower, food, and bed.”
“You undressing right now, Mason?” The jokester was back.
She reached for the phone. “You’ll never know.” She ended the call and strode for the shower. Frank had been her partner for four years now and they teased each other mercilessly. So, his comments like that were common and didn’t bother her at all.
Disposition one hundred percent better after the shower, she rechecked her injured ribs and then dressed. She clipped her badge to her jean’s waistband and tugged her dark grey t-shirt down, covering it and the Glock 23 she had at the small of her back. Her shoulder holster was empty, so she just put it in the bag, she’d sent it along on the plane only bringing her backup but she wasn’t about to leave it in the hotel room.
She headed out the door after gathering her thick mane of curls into a French braid and walked to the diner. Drinking her sweet tea as she sat at the counter on a swivel stool, she waited for her burger and fries.
The door opened and a group of men strode in. Two stopped to speak with others in the establishment while one beelined it for her. “Mason?”
Teena set the cup down and cocked her head to the side. “Travis?”
“That’s me.” He occupied the stool beside her and rested his hands on the countertop. “Coffee please.”
“Coming right up, darling.”
He gave the waitress a smile before turning his focus back to Teena. “Your vehicle is at my garage and it will take me about three days to get it fixed. I have to send out for the part. I had one in the shop but it’s not working, I’m sorry but that’s what I’ve got.”
Her food arrived, tempting her nose with delicious aromas. She licked her lips as her mouth watered. “Thank you,” she said to the pleasant blonde. “Not a problem, I appreciate you fixing it.”
“B said you were in law enforcement.”
She salted her fries and nodded. “I am. I have to ask. Does everyone just call him B?”
“Pretty much.”
She could look him up and find out exactly who not just B was but every other person in this town but she didn’t have it in her. So, she shrugged it off, picked up two fries and popped them in her mouth, chewing with bliss.
“How long you been in law?”
A thick tanned arm reached over her shoulder and took some fries from her plate. The arm’s dark hair skimmed along her skin setting her pulse ablaze. “She’s been a Marshal for ten years now, haven’t you Mason?”
She would have collapsed had she not been on the chair. That voice, that face—when she glanced up at it—told her all she needed to know. Her one night stand when she’d been in Georgia for some training stood there. Patrick West. Not entirely true. He had been a one night stand but for years after that, they’d been meeting in secret for no holds barred sex over a night or weekend.
She hadn’t seen him in a few months and if anything, he’d gotten better with age. A common thought for her when it came to this man. His smoky gray eyes bore into her with an intensity no other man could even begin to compare to. He’d gotten broader, not fat, but all muscle. She had no t
rouble telling he’d bulked up. The way his green shirt hugged his torso made parts of her sit up and beg. For his touch. For her to dust off the cobwebs and get back to what it was made for.
She moved her eyes down over his body and took in the way his jeans hugged lean hips and powerful thighs. She clenched her jaw and passed over his cock, well aware what space that particular item took up in his pants. This time however, he had cowboy boots on his feet.
“What are you doing here?” she blurted out doing her best to quell the need merely seeing him brought her. Was he here seeing someone else? Why was she jealous? Did she have any claim over him?
He nodded at Travis while he propped his hip against the counter. “I’m visiting my parents. I grew up here.” He cupped her cheek and smoothed his thumb over her bottom lip. “I think the question is what are you doing here?”
αβ
Patrick had surely lost his mind. He’d strolled into the diner to grab a bite of food when he saw none other than the woman who’d snared him from the moment he watched her take down a man twice her size on the training mat. He’d pursued her, drawn by her spirit and attitude. She’d blown him off more than once but he refused to let up.
One night, everyone had gone into town in celebration of the classes being over and he’d spent a part of the night watching her from across the bar. Watched her turn down guy after guy until he’d had enough liquid courage within him to approach her one more time.
That resulted in the best night of sex in his entire life. They’d been sleeping for maybe an hour when he woke to find the bed empty. She was gone. Leaving nothing but her number with the words, “If you want to do this again. No strings.”
Hell yeah, he’d wanted to do it again. And so they did.
For a couple of times over the next ten years he’d taken her up on that offer. Other than that, he’d only had the memories of their shared nights, she wouldn’t agree to anything more. Yet, each time he was with her, more of his heart signed over ownership to this woman. Her hair looked much longer now, hanging past her shoulders even in the braid. Her face looked thinner, her café au lait skin smooth as it had always been, calling for his touch. Always stunning even with the way she downplayed her looks.