Zena Wynn - Tameka's Smile

At her words, he felt a part of himself relax that he hadn’t know was tense. Everything was going to be fine. He could finally let himself believe. He was lying there contemplating the glorious future that awaited them when Bull arrived.

“Knock, knock. Comin’ in,” Bull announced as he stuck his head around the corner.

Chad immediately pulled the covers up to Tameka’s shoulders and made sure she was decently covered before raising the back of the bed. “Hey, Bull. What’s up?” Bull seemed to hesitate. That’s when Chad realized Bull was in uniform and not his usual joking self. He got a nasty feeling in his gut. “Since you’re in uniform, I take it this isn’t a social visit?”

NeeCee Jones stood outside the partially opened door to the room, her hand poised to knock. Moments earlier, the hunky cop she’d seen earlier disappeared behind this same door. Hearing the question, she paused. There was no way her sister Tameka was in trouble with the law. Maybe she had the wrong room, but the number on the door was right, and there weren’t too many doors to choose from.

“Our perp struck again.” Hmm, nice voice. Had to be the cop speaking.

“What did she do this time?”

NeeCee couldn’t see to whom the other voice belonged. If she moved, there was a good chance she’d be spotted hovering in the doorway. Uncertainty and curiosity held her in its grip, so she waited. If this were the right room, once she found out what she needed to know, she’d reveal her presence.

“Tameka got a package in the mail. I’ve already taken it in and tagged it for evidence. There’s no prints and no return address on the envelope. We know where it originated—a post office in Colby—but it doesn’t do us any good.” There was the slight sound of shifting, then the cop spoke,

“I should warn you…”

“Son of a bitch!”

“…the photos are pretty explicit,” he finished ruefully.

The other guy was still cursing, using some pretty graphic and colorful language combinations of what he was going to do to “her” if he ever caught her.

“We’re still no closer to discovering who’s behind this, but Rome’s got an inside in with the Markham Group. They agreed to work with us to try to lure her out. Deputy Shelley is working with one of their managers, who is pretending to be interested in the project, but only if the perp can procure the land within a limited period of time. They’re drawing up bogus contracts as we speak.”

The other guy finally quieted. “What’s the method of contact?”

“The address Markham was given is one of those mailbox services. We’re sending a letter and will have someone watching to see who comes nibbling at our bait.”

“I want her, Bull. No one threatens my mate and gets away with it.” The voice was deadly.

Who was this guy? NeeCee was damn glad he wasn’t talking about her. The last thing she wanted was this guy as an enemy. She shivered. What the hell had Tameka gotten herself involved in?

“This woman sat outside my mate’s house and took intimate photos of the two of us together, after she’d just got finished puncturing Tameka’s two rear tires. She was waiting and hoping for a reaction. Meka can’t see these. She’d freak.” What was in those pictures? Surely Tameka wasn’t caught having sex. Naaww. Not Ms. Uptight-Got-To-Fix-The-World and Safety-and-Caution-First having sex with a man she’d just met, in full digital color? Impossible.

“Who else has seen them?’

“Just Rome. I dusted and catalogued them myself and locked them in the vault. I wouldn’t do that to you, man,” the cop assured him.

Whatever was in those photos, it was definitely something the other guy didn’t want to be seen.

“It’s a good thing you stayed human or we’d be in deep shit now,” the cop continued.

“Staying human when I’m that deep in Tameka is impossible.”

Huh?

“Well, if you did, you must have kept your head down because she doesn’t have a clear shot of you in half-form. The camera must have been mostly focused on Tameka.”

“Yeah, thank God for small mercies.”

Silence fell in the room, except for the small sound of paper being shuffled. NeeCee wanted to hear more about the guy not being human. Mentally, she urged them to explain. Before their conversation could continue, she heard a cart rattling in the hallway, coming her way. Time to quit lingering here in the doorway.

She rapped on the door, calling out, “Tameka?” as she pushed it open and stepped inside the room. She stopped abruptly, as though confused. “I’m sorry. I’m looking for Tameka Jones?”

The cop turned to face her, his stance protective as he blocked her view of the couple on the bed. Damn he was cute, in a tall, lanky, cowboy kind of way. He had rich brown hair with a cowlick that fell over his one of his deep, dark, brown eyes with a hint of gold in the center, and big hands with long, lean fingers.

“And you are?”

“NeeCee Jones, Tameka’s sister.”

The cop turned partially to get the other guy’s reaction. If she hadn’t just listened in on their conversation, she would have been concerned and angered by the lack of friendliness—

downright suspiciousness—they were exhibiting. As it was, she understood their caution and reserve and appreciated it, ‘cause it displayed their concern for her sister’s well being.

“Can I see some identification, Ms. Jones?” The cop again.

The blond giant on the bed hadn’t said a word, though she really couldn’t see him that well with the cop still blocking her view. NeeCee reached into her back pocket for her wallet, feeling her shirt stretch tight across her breasts. The cop’s eyes focused there and seemed to linger on the nipple hugging jewelry she wore, made more visible with her action.

“Here you go.” She handed him her driver’s license.

He examined it. “You mind if I take this out to the car and run it through?”

“Knock yourself out.” She granted him permission with an airy wave of her hand.

As he moved past her and headed for the door, NeeCee got her first good look at the other man in the room.

Good Lord, the man was handsome in a cold, deadly way—

like one of those movie assassins on TV—but the way he held Tameka was telling. She wouldn’t have imagined after listening to him and now seeing him, that a man that appeared as ruthless as he could be so gentle.

Look at Tameka, sprawled over the man like he was her personal mattress. NeeCee mentally shook her head. Who would have thunk? Tameka, the prude, lying naked in her equally naked lover’s arms, right here in the hospital—clinic—whatever this was. These mountain men sure moved fast.

While she’d been busy checking him out, she took note that he’d been doing the same. She started to ask if she passed muster, but one look into those jaded eyes and she only had one thought—cop. Figures he’d be a pig.

“So you’re Tameka’s sister. She doesn’t talk about you.” NeeCee shrugged. “Any reason why she should? You’ve known her, what? All of five days? I’m sure you know her entire life history by now,” she finished snidely.

He almost smiled, but seemed to catch himself. “Eight days, and you’re definitely related. Same smart mouth and lack of fear.”

She allowed herself to smirk. Found out Meka wasn’t as soft as she looked, had he? “Now that we know who I am, who, or shall I say what, are you?”

Any hint of warming in his manner towards her disappeared in an instant as his eyes narrowed to slits. “Deputy Sheriff Chad Wilson, and your sister’s mate.”

NeeCee planted her hands on her waist, leaned forward aggressively and narrowed her eyes in return. “My sister hasn’t been here long enough to have a mate, whatever the hell that is.