Hard to Resist. Samantha Hunter
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stared at him, dumbfounded. “What? Of course I’m going to eat. Why do you think I’m here?”
“I meant, you’re so thin, and given your profession, I thought you might be an ‘eat salad and smell the real food’ type.”
She looked as if she couldn’t believe his brashness, and then burst out laughing. At least he hadn’t upset her.
“Ranger, I can put it away. Don’t underestimate me there. I am blessed with what my father used to call a hummingbird’s metabolism—small animal, eats a lot. No animal has a faster metabolism. I can probably eat damned near my own weight in this pizza.”
“Is that right?”
She nodded and gave the waitress their order—two pies—after grabbing a few plastic cups from the counter for their wine and a conversation about the owner’s new grandchildren.
“You seem to know everyone—I always thought New Yorkers were cold and distant.”
“C’ mon, you’ve been here before, so you know different. But anyway, I’m not a native. It’s a big city, and it has its share of attitude, but I’ve found the people here to be some of the friendliest I’ve ever met. It’s huge and intimidating, but you find your own corner and settle in. I’ve known small towns a lot less friendly.”
He had to admit that was true. “Where do you come from originally?”
“Nevada. My parents owned a ranch there.”
“Seriously?” He sounded surprised, even though he’d heard her reveal that fact earlier. She seemed tickled by his feigned reaction.
“Yep. Grew up with the desert, rattlesnakes, horses and cattle—probably not unlike you, huh?”
“I actually didn’t grow up on a ranch. Just a small house outside Corpus Christi. I didn’t learn to ride until I took a summer job on a local cattle ranch and got hooked.”
“I thought everyone in Texas was born in a saddle,” she said, obviously teasing.
“My father was a good horseman, but he was all cop.”
“Law enforcement runs in the family?”
“Yep. My sister is a Federal Marshall, Dad’s a lifelong Ranger, though he’ll be set to retire next year. He’s not taking that well.”
“Your file said you were in the El Paso Division?”
“Yeah. I was transferred a few years ago. Dad is still over in Corpus Christi. My sister is based in Dallas, but she’s constantly traveling.”
“That’s a lot. How does your mother handle it?”
“She didn’t. She took off when I was about thirteen after putting up with it for as long as she could. I can’t blame her, not entirely.”
“Really?”
“The job is tough, comes with a lot of risks, makes having a family hard, just like any cop’s life does. My mother couldn’t take the stress. It happens.”
“I suppose. I’m sorry to hear it, though. Are you still in touch?”
“You writing an exposé or taking pictures?” he snapped back, and noticed too late that he shouldn’t have. She’d just hit a nerve.
He’d always felt responsible for his parents’ breakup, though as an adult he knew it wasn’t true. Still, it was hard for him as a boy to ignore that his mother had taken off shortly after he’d said he wanted to be a Ranger, just like his father. Hard to convince a kid it wasn’t his fault, even though his dad had tried.
“It helps me take better pictures if I get to know you,” she said evenly, but her eyes didn’t meet his.
“Apologies, Lacey. Sore spot. Shouldn’t take it out on you,” he said, and she looked up again, her eyes forgiving him. “But, no, we lost contact with her a few years after she left. She stayed in touch for a while, but I guess her new life took her elsewhere.”
“I’m sorry about that. And I didn’t mean to pry.”
“I know.”
Thankfully their pizzas arrived, taking up all of the space on the table and capturing their attention for a good while.
“Wow, this is amazing,” he said, his senses in heaven between the pizza and the wine. “I mean, my God…what do they do? I could eat only this for the rest of my days,” he crooned, meaning it.
“Told ya.” She smiled, as she kept her promise and put away her share of pizza. He couldn’t figure out where she fit it all.
“So, you want to talk about work?” he reminded her as they poured more wine. She wasn’t tipsy by any means, but she was more relaxed and he liked it. The glow she had was real now, and the buzz of attraction in his head became a little louder. She was fun, and good company when she wasn’t acting like something was about to bite her. Whatever cloud had been hanging over her earlier seemed to have lifted.
“That’s what we’ve been doing. I like to get to know subjects before I shoot them, so I can put you into places, settings, poses that are going to really show the real you, not arrange you in some contrived position.”
“I see. That’s interesting.” He was unsure of what else to say, slightly uncomfortable at being analyzed in this manner. He’d thought they were just having a good time. He sighed. “I’m not quite sure how all this model, photographer stuff works. It’s a first, and hopefully a last, for me.”
She grinned. “Maybe you’ll get hooked. You could get catalog ads, newspaper, maybe even hit the catwalks,” she teased. She was playful, something he liked in a woman, and in a bed partner. How playful would his pretty photographer be in the sack? He watched her lick some sauce from her fingers and thought about those long, thin fingers wrapping around him.
He had to stop or he wouldn’t be able to stand up safely, and grabbed his drink and took a long swallow.
“I said it’s time to go, dammit. I gotta get to work,” a rough voice growled, interrupting them. The jovial conversation in the place dulled to a murmur. Everyone looked toward a tall twentysomething guy who stood and grabbed the woman with him by the wrist, pulling her up. She tugged her arm loose, telling him she wanted to stay and pack the rest of the pizza for takeout.
There were several beer bottles on his side of the table and his words were slurred as he objected again. It was obvious he’d had too much to drink.
When the guy lifted his hand toward her, Lacey went very still. Jarod, on the other hand, moved so quickly the guy didn’t seem to realize he was there until he’d grabbed the man’s arms and pinned them behind his back before he managed to deliver the blow.
“This is a nice place, and we’re all enjoying a nice meal. You, however, are not behaving nicely,” Jarod said in a voice that was dead calm.
“Let me go, you moth—”
“Uh-uh.” Jarod yanked harder on the guy’s arms, choking off the curse. “There are kids in here. Watch your words.”
“Let him go,” the girlfriend demanded, her hands on her hips as she stared at Jarod as if he were the enemy.
“Ma’am, are you okay?”
While the guy had gone still, the woman didn’t seem to be intimidated by Jarod at all, and walked up as close as she could get to him.
“Why don’t you mind your own damned business? Let him go so we can get out of here.”
“He looked like he was about to slap you. You sure about me letting him go?” Jarod asked.
She glared at him as if he were nuts. “Don’t I look sure? He don’t mean no harm. He just gets worked up.” She blew off Jarod’s concern with a dirty look that brooked no argument.
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