Just Kidding Page 3

  “Ahh,” she said, probably remembering the incident well. “I see. Well, what you’re doing is for a good cause. And the photographer that was hired for this particular shoot should take care of you seeing as you’re doing it for her.”

  I grinned.

  That was true.

  Avery Flynn, the girl that was getting some help off the money some of us made for the calendar, was also the girl that was taking the photos.

  Avery had, apparently, been extremely gifted in the photography department.

  Self-taught, she’d started when she was twelve.

  Apparently, she’d been taking the SWAT photos for years, as well as doing quite a bit of the photography that our police department used on their social media accounts and websites.

  “I’m trusting her,” I told Reese. “You see me dressed for it, yes?”

  Reese snorted. “I see that you think you’re going to get away with not taking your shirt off. But we want these puppies to sell… and that requires bare chests.”

  I opened my mouth to reply, then closed it.

  “Damn,” I said, touching my abdomen. “Did you just tell me to prostitute my body for money?”

  She snickered.

  “If that’s what’s going to sell these calendars…”

  I was chuckling when I heard the door slam at the end of the hall.

  Both Reese and I turned to see Luke prowling inside, a pissed off expression on his face.

  Oh, boy.

  Yeah, he wasn’t happy.

  Poor guy.

  I wouldn’t be either had I learned what he just had.

  “Oh, man,” Reese said. “He looks pissed as hell. I wonder what happened now?”

  I didn’t bother to answer since Luke finally arrived at our sides.

  He looked at his wife and gave her a look that I couldn’t quite decipher.

  “Meet me in my office?” Luke asked his wife.

  Reese nodded, looking at the two of us curiously.

  “Sure,” she said. “It was nice talking to you, darling. Rock the calendar photoshoot.”

  I snorted.

  “Yes, ma’am.” I smiled—giving her the full tilt of both sides of my lips this time.

  Reese grinned and walked away, leaving me standing there with her husband who looked pissed.

  “Will you take Rowen home?” he asked.

  I glowered.

  “I would if I could,” I said. “But I have that calendar shoot right now.”

  He frowned. “So does Derek.” He sighed. “I can’t leave her in my office. Reese is going to lose her shit when I tell her. Can you stash her in one of the SWAT offices in the gym with you while you go through the shoot? Take her home after?”

  I was already nodding my head, even though I was confused.

  “I can, yes. But Derek can also take her,” I suggested. “Not that I’m against it or anything, I just feel like she might be happier with someone she actually knows…”

  Luke sighed.

  “I think that Derek will do just about anything to get out of doing this shoot,” he explained. “This is for charity. He’s not getting out of it. So until he’s finished with it, he’s not going to know.”

  “Okay,” I said. “But I’ve been told that the shoot is supposed to be a little risqué.”

  Luke snorted.

  “Rowen’s a baller, Dax.” Luke laughed. “She can handle it.”

  Chapter 2

  Don’t you wish your coffee was hot like me?

  -Coffee Cup

  Rowen

  My dad had told me he was going to find me a ride.

  I hadn’t expected that ride to be Dax.

  When he’d come out of the door that led to the inner sanctum of the police department, I wasn’t sure what I was expecting.

  He’d looked around as if he was looking for someone, and his eyes had landed on me.

  I’d been leaning up against the side of the building, twiddling my thumbs and waiting for who I had assumed was my brother, only it definitely wasn’t my brother who came out.

  It was him.

  “You mind coming with me to my shoot first?” he asked, his voice all dark and rumbly.

  Dax. Dax Tremaine.

  At first, I’d looked around, surprised to find that he was talking to me. I mean, in the office, he’d not once looked at me. It was weird, getting attention from a man—especially a man of his caliber.

  I opened my mouth and then closed it.

  Like a tiny little bald fish.

  God, had I really freakin’ left my job and my apartment? Had I just up and left without a single word to anybody?

  Yes, yes I had.

  I just hoped that they understood—my job, anyway. Not that it mattered since I’d gotten that email saying I’d broken client confidentiality when I hadn’t. Honestly, that likely had to do with Shondra, too. The damn woman was a conniving bitch and always found a way to make me look bad.

  I just fucking hoped that karma was a bitch and came back to pound her twice as hard as it pounded me.

  God, my hair.

  My beautiful hair.

  “Me?” I squeaked, looking at Dax as if him talking to me was some superhuman feat that he’d accomplished.

  He grinned then, and I saw his row of straight white teeth.

  I remembered when those teeth had been covered in braces.

  He’d had them up until his senior year—like right before he’d graduated high school.

  And, where with some people a mouth full of metal would’ve been a turnoff, for him it’d only added to his appeal.

  I would’ve loved to even be the one to point out that he had food stuck between them.

  And now he was talking to me?

  Wow.

  Just wow.

  “Yeah, you.” He tapped me on the top of my baseball cap with one of his tattooed fingers. “Is it okay if we do my shoot first? I’m done for the day afterward, and I have a feeling if I stay, they’re going to find something for me to do with all the other SWAT officers having to shoot that calendar after me.”

  My thoughts came to a screeching halt at that.

  “Why do you get to go first?” I asked the man that was my babysitter and my ride home.

  I remembered him. Vividly.

  He’d also been a few years older than me, and when it’d come to our ages, back then it felt like a million years separated us instead of a few years.

  It’s funny how three years now meant something completely different than it did in high school.

  Now, three years was just three years. Then? It was three grades and an eternity worth of experience.

  No way would a senior date a freshman.

  No. Way.

  Now, though?

  Rarwr.

  Dax Tremaine had grown up.

  Not that he hadn’t been a big guy when I’d last seen him at his high school graduation.

  But now? Wow.

  He wasn’t only tall, but he was muscular.

  The military had done him well.

  I eyed the long-sleeved skin-tight shirt that he had on underneath his SWAT shirt that was most certainly covering all of his tattoos. Tattoos he’d started getting when he was a senior in high school.

  I remembered one in particular. He’d gotten it when he was seventeen and had shown it off to his mother the day that he’d gotten it. During a barbeque.

  She’d lost her shit.

  I’d thought it was funny.

  It was a tattoo of a naked pin-up girl on his arm. She had big boobs, flowing red hair, and a mouth so full that it just exuded ‘fuck my mouth.’

  “I guess I just got the short straw,” he admitted, his eyes coming down to meet mine. “I wasn’t too keen on doing the photoshoot in the first place, so I’m thinking that they made me go first so I didn’t back out.”

  I frowned.

  “You didn’t want to do it?�
� I asked curiously.

  He shrugged.

  “I don’t do pictures.”

  It was his short, abrupt comment that had me remembering shit that happened what felt like a lifetime ago.

  At one point he had done pictures.

  The only problem was, the pictures he’d done had gone viral and everyone and their brother had seen things on Dax Tremaine that shouldn’t have seen the light of day.

  Sadly, it’d been his ex-girlfriend who’d taken a revealing picture of his backside—and oh my God, his ass was to die for—while he was stepping out of the shower. When they’d broken up, she’d posted it everywhere on social media thinking to humiliate him.

  And it had.

  Only, everybody else had seen perfection—at least in my case.

  “Well, I hear it’s for a good cause,” I told him. “Avery Flynn is a smart cookie. She deserves it.”

  His eyes went to me as he jerked his chin for me to follow him. “You know her?”

  I nodded and fell into step next to him. He slowed his strides to keep up with me so that I wasn’t running like a loon behind him trying to catch up. Because holy, man, were his legs long.

  “She did some family pictures that my mom wanted done a few years ago.” I paused. “She also took my college graduation pictures. And she’s scheduled to take my professional photo… shit.”

  “What?” he asked, stopping and taking a wary look around as if there was something threatening me.

  I touched my hat, which hid my bald head.

  “How the hell am I supposed to have professional pictures done with no hair?” I asked him.

  The sinking feeling in my stomach that Dax had managed to expel with his appearance was now back.

  I had no hair.

  I. Had. No. Hair.

  None.

  It wasn’t as if I had just a little thinning of hair. No. I had zero hair on my head.

  It was smooth, like a baby’s ass.

  I started rubbing said smooth, baby ass head and wondered how the hell I was going to look professional when I started applying for jobs here in Kilgore.

  Jesus Christ.

  “Well,” Dax said. “You could just not get them until you do have some hair,” he offered. “Or, you could get a cool hat. Like the ones that the Queen of England wears.” He paused. “Then there’s always getting a wig, but those always look more fake than real.”

  I agreed with him there on the wigs.

  The thought of getting a wig had definitely occurred to me over my hours long trip home today, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that that wasn’t going to work for me.

  For one thing, I didn’t like shit touching me. I had trouble with baseball caps, underwear, and tight jeans. How the hell would I allow a wig to sit on my head for hours and hours on end?

  Hell, the baseball cap on my head right now was causing me to have a slight headache already, and it wasn’t even tight.

  I had a sensory issue.

  Things just had to feel ‘right’ or I couldn’t wear them.

  Such as socks. Socks had to be perfectly in line with my toes, and the seams of the socks couldn’t hang over any of my toes, or I just simply couldn’t wear them. It would drive me absolutely nuts until I either took them off or was able to be busy enough to distract myself into forgetting about them.

  Then there were my jeans or t-shirts. There could be no tags—period.

  “I agree,” I said softly.

  “You agree with my wig theory? Or you agree to wait?” he asked.

  I blinked.

  “Both,” I admitted. “I’m sorry. I would drive myself home but as I was pulling in, I ran over the curb right out front and my wheel is bent.” I scrunched up my nose as I remembered the sound it’d made when it did the bending. “I’m a dumbass.”

  He didn’t say anything to that, only continued walking farther until we ended up at the entrance of the SWAT headquarters.

  A long time ago, I’d been here when the massive gymnasium was built. It was weird to be here when it wasn’t my father that I was coming to see.

  “No biggie,” he said. “I live on the way to your parents’ place now.”

  I frowned. “You live where?”

  He started explaining where it was that he lived. Apparently they’d put some duplexes in right on the corner of my parents’ road and the main highway. High-end ones that looked ‘hoity-toity’ according to Dax.

  But, as he was talking, I was taking in all the male flesh that was available to take in.

  And, right in the middle of all that male flesh, was my brother.

  “Oh, shit,” I said, scooting behind Dax to avoid Derek. “You have to hide me or something.”

  “Why?” he asked. “He’s going to find out sooner or later.”

  I sighed.

  “The sooner part would mean he wouldn’t get this photoshoot done,” I said. “The later part would mean he would, and my dad would be able to remind him that killing people is a crime.”

  Dax shifted so that we were close to an open door right on the inside of the exit.

  “This is where the actual shoot is going to be,” he said. “Hang out in here until I can find out what more is going on with this. I’ll be in here in about ten minutes. Okay?”

  Relieved to be away from my brother who really would’ve lost his shit—it was okay for him to fuck with his big sister, but definitely not okay for someone else to fuck with her—I went in through the open doorway and found myself staring at a large room with several large props.

  “Wow,” I said as I skirted even farther into the room.

  Dax closed the door behind me, and I took everything in.

  In one corner there was a black backdrop hanging from two large stands on either side of it.

  In the other corner was a fake but still very realistic brick setup that appeared to be the outside of an old, abandoned building.

  Then there was a massive bed, right in the middle of the room, with the fluffiest of pillows and the softest-looking of down comforters.

  And making that bed was the photographer.

  “Avery!” I cried.

  Avery’s head whipped around, and she smiled so big that my heart almost burst.

  The last time I’d seen her was for about five minutes after her father’s funeral.

  I’d hugged the hell out of her and then gave her my condolences.

  She looked much better today, even if she still had those bags underneath her eyes.

  “I love your shirt,” I declared, taking in her outfit.

  She was in a pair of black leggings and a baggy t-shirt that declared her a ‘Klingon Captain.’

  Her hair was down and flowing around her head, and her glasses made her look absolutely adorable, as did her black and red Chucks with the skulls on them.

  Seriously, she was just too cute.

  Like, no joke, I wanted to bottle her up and bring her out just to make me smile.

  “Rowen!” She smiled back, just as happy to see me as I was to see her. “You look so good.”

  I grimaced.

  “Well,” I said as I touched the brim of my ball cap. “Not so much.”

  Her gasp of outrage filled the room when she got a load of my bald head.

  “You shaved your hair?” she cried out.

  I shook my head. Then relayed the entire story.

  “You know,” she said. “My daddy taught me to always obey the law. But he’s not here anymore to enforce that…”

  I loved that she could joke about it.

  I loved even more that she was willing to throw down with me.

  “My dad’s telling my mom right now,” I said. “And Derek, my brother, doesn’t know yet.”

  I jerked my thumb in Derek’s direction, which happened to be in the other, bigger part of the building.

  She blinked in confusion.

  “Derek?” she asked.
“He’s here?”

  The last she was aware, Derek was deployed to Iraq.

  He had been. Three times.

  And when he’d come home on the last deployment, he’d insisted that he wouldn’t be leaving again.

  Something had happened over there that had changed him.

  His last deployment, his unit had suffered a tragedy, and Derek had lost almost all of them.

  Derek was one of the only people left in his unit after that, and it was understandable that he wouldn’t want to go back.

  I was seriously glad that he was back. Even though he was a little bit more surly than usual.

  “Yeah, he got back a couple of months ago.” I paused. “Actually, it’s been more than a couple of months. More like eight.”

  Her eyes went wide.

  “He’s been back all that time?” she asked. “I haven’t seen him.”

  Avery’s parents had bought the property right next door to my parents’ place. Now, Avery lived there all by herself.

  “Yeah,” I said. “He doesn’t live with them. He has his own place in some duplexes that were just built.”

  Were they the same duplexes that Dax lived in?

  A happy sort of excitement raced through me.

  I’d actually gotten my brother to give me information on those duplexes. I was supposed to go by later and possibly sign a lease.

  In fact, that’d been my next stop after the police station.

  Now I was going to have to go home…

  Maybe.

  I could possibly talk Dax into…

  “All right,” Dax, the man I’d just been thinking about, said. “Where do you want me?”

  The slam of the door had us both turning to see Dax standing in the doorway.

  The closed doorway.

  Dax’s eyes went to my head, then to Avery who was touching my head still.

  “Am I interrupting something?”

  I grinned and shook my head.

  “No, we were just talking about things that I can do to hide this.” I pointed at my head.

  He grunted out a sound and then walked farther into the room.

  “Maybe you can do something to hide my tattoos so the chief doesn’t ream my ass,” he suggested.

  I looked at the black shirt that was covering them, then looked at Avery.

  “You can hide tattoos?” I asked.