Page 10 of Protected By West (San Antonio S.W.A.T. #1)

TRACY

Tracy was glad they'd gone with the Kitchen Sink platter.

It was more of a food service tray with its surface covered in large pieces of wax paper. On top of it were four choices of meat surrounded by a little of every side dish they had on the menu. It wasn't so much that they were generous portions as it was an over-the-top tasting menu.

Weston had tried the ribs, but he'd wolfed down the brisket that had been a teensy bit too salty for her. And she was doing such a thorough job with the ribs that there was hardly anything left on the bone.

Her fingers on both hands were nearly covered in the sticky heat of their diablo sauce and when she turned her head to look at the roll of paper towels on the table, she inwardly groaned.

There was no way to tear off a piece to use without dirtying the whole roll or trying to use her knees and elbows.

She was just about to throw in the towel and flag down a member of the waitstaff when Weston wiped his hands off and then picked up the roll. He tore off a few good-sized pieces before setting the roll back down on the tabletop.

"Thanks," she'd hidden her mouth behind the rib bone she was holding with her fingers.

After she'd finished it, she set the bone down on the little pile she'd made in a corner of the metal sheet and reached for a paper towel.

As she wiped at her mouth, she felt a little uncomfortable with how openly Weston was watching her.

"I told you I was going to get messy." She folded the paper towel in half and took another swipe at her mouth before speaking again.

"You know, if they have one of those suggestion boxes, I'm going to suggest some kind of a mirror at each table. "

"Oh?" He grinned at her, and she smiled more in reaction. "What's that for?"

She dabbed at her lips. "Now they have paper towel rolls on tables. I miss the day when they had those shiny metal napkin holders. I mean I could walk through the place with sauce all over my face to head to the bathroom, but that's kind of insult to injury, you know?"

Weston got up from his chair at the table and picked up the empty chair between them.

He set it down between them, with its back toward her.

Damn it. He probably didn't do it on purpose, but when he straddled the chair to face her, that well-worn denim fabric stretched across his hips was going to feature in a number of fantasies from that moment on.

"Let me help."

Weston picked up a paper towel from the stack he'd set on the tabletop and wrapping it around the tip of his index finger he swept it across the corner of her mouth.

For a moment she felt a little sheepish. She didn't feel bad about enjoying her food, especially with a sauce so tasty she was planning to buy a couple of bottles to take home, but where she normally didn't care about how she looked outside of the office, she did... now.

Sure, she loved diving into the ribs, but never before had a date really lasted to the end of a meal like this.

Most people were so concerned with being perfect on dates.

And she was far from perfect.

But, it was also that she'd never really cared about the person on the other side of the table. They might have had good qualities, but she'd never really felt a real connection to them.

With Weston she felt that... and more.

Having someone help clean sauce off of her face?

This was embarrassing. Having it be him? That was embarrassing.

Suddenly, she wanted to be perfect.

"Hey..." Weston leaned in closer, his chest pressing against the back of the chair. "Hold still," he smiled, "I might have missed some."

She frowned, her brow furrowing slightly as her stomach fell.

How much more embarrassed could she be?

It was bordering on shame at this point.

Maybe this was the wrong choice.

"Here," he took her chin between his fingers, and leaned in, "let me help."

He kissed her.

He brushed his lips over hers in one direction and then the other.

His palm cradled her cheek, and he turned, tasting her lips again.

Tracy didn't move away.

How could she?

She didn't even worry about the mess anymore.

When his tongue traced the seam of her lips, she opened them and tasted the sugary taste of the sauce on the pulled pork slider he'd enjoyed.

The mix of flavors sent chills through her, and she had a feeling that he'd felt something, too, with the way that his hand gripped her arm and drew her closer.

Holy hell, he knew how to kiss.

He leaned in further and she tipped her head back as her mind struggled to remind her of something...

What?

She had no idea.

And figuring it out would take more brain cells than she had to spare at the moment.

She just wanted to keep kissing him.

When he broke away, she leaned in, trying to chase his lips, and that's when she heard it.

The raucous cheers from the whole barbecue joint. There was applause, wolf-whistles, and a few playful calls for them to "get a room!"

Deciding that she'd given the other customers enough of a show, she looked up at West and couldn't seem to keep herself from falling into those sky-blue eyes. "West?"

He smiled, one side of his mouth tipping up higher than the other. She must have hit somewhere near his funny bone for that to happen.

"Yeah, gorgeous?"

She loved the softer rumble of his voice. Even with all the noise surrounding them and people slipping past, she could hear him as clearly as if he was leaning in and whispering in her ear.

"Do you want dessert?"

She had to admit she wanted him to say no... and yes.

She had a feeling their pecan pie bars were out of this world.

Weston leaned in, pulling her closer until she was on the edge of her chair. "With you?"

Oh, his voice did things to her.

Things that she wanted to feel over and over.

Swallowing, she heard the slightly desperate sound in her ears. "That's the idea." She smiled at him, her heart pounding in her chest.

Weston lifted up his hand and the waitress stopped by. "Can you pack up one of all the desserts and," he let go of her long enough to pull his wallet out of his back pocket and handed her a hundred, "keep the change."

"Thanks. I'll be right back with that sugar bomb." She gave them both a wink. "And, uh, you two have a great night."

Weston nodded, but she didn't see it. She was already gone, but it didn't matter.

Tracy was focused on the man sitting so near she could breathe in the scent of his skin.

"What do you say, honey?"

Tracy felt heat rising in her cheeks. "Hmm?"

"I bet we can have an incredible night."

"I like the way you think." She lifted her hand and touched the side of his face, feeling the soft brush of his beard against the side of her hand. "Your room or mine?"

He turned his head, placing a kiss on her palm. "The view from my room isn't anything to write home about, but I've also got to get going early in the morning. Let's go to yours, that way you can sleep in after I'm gone."

"Yeah?"

He nodded.

"Sounds like you're planning to keep me up late."

Weston stood as the waitress came back to the table, a branded brown bag dangling from her fingers. "Here you go."

He took the bag before she could grab it and held it in front of him.

Tracy tried to ignore the appreciative glance of the waitress before he'd settled the bag in front of him, and when she left, she gave Tracy a nudge with her elbow and a gave her an outrageous wink.

Yeah. Everyone knew what they were leaving to do and there was something freeing about it.

Tracy watched in rapt attention as he set his hat on his head and then felt the warmth of his fingers folding between hers.

She'd only known him for a few days but having him hold her hand felt like... forever, in the best way possible.

As soon as they'd stepped out into the warmth of the Texas night, he leaned in to whisper to her. "You can always say no."

She turned and her lips brushed against his, making both of them smile.

"What is it you cowboys say?" She bit into her lip and grinned wider. "It would take wild horses to pull me away tonight."

"Just tonight?" West tugged her along toward his Chevy. "I guess we'll start there, and I'll work on more."

WEST

He had every intention of feeding her some of the dessert they ordered, but the moment they were inside her room, and she took his hat from his hand, setting it down on the small desk beside the dessert bag, he filled his hands with her.

First, he opened the clip she'd used to pull back her hair and tossed that onto a nearby table.

Weston combed his fingers through her hair.

Silk.

Her hair was handfuls of silk.

Images of her hair in his hand, wrapped around his fist-

Ah fuck.

He wrapped one hand around the back of her neck and the other, he couldn't seem to let go of her hair if he tried.

Tugging on it, she opened her mouth on a gasp, and he went in, chasing after her taste.

And she was sweeter than the crystallized sugar on his mom's peach cobbler.

Almost as if she heard his thoughts, Tracy's hands found his back. She fisted her hands in his shirt and pulled him back.

He looked down at her in the light from the bathroom with its open door.

She was gold, gilded like she was standing in firelight, and he knew that would be another fantasy to fulfill.

Hell, he'd put a damn fireplace in his house if that's what it would take.

"Why are you stopping me?"

She looked up at him, her eyes bright and her lips already swollen from his kisses.

He liked the way she looked, watching him like that.

"I'm not stopping you."

Weston lifted a brow and turned to look back toward his shoulder. "Either that or you're trying to rip off my shirt."

Her eyes widened for a second before she tipped her head to the side. "You know," her voice had softened and there was a deeper tone, "that's not a bad idea."

A moment later, her hands moved around to the front of his shirt and started working on his buttons.

Not to be outdone, he reached down for his belt.

Her hands faltered, her chin dropping down, hiding her eyes from him.

Babe-"