Page 7 of Protected By West (San Antonio S.W.A.T. #1)

WEST

The diner had a table in the corner when they walked in, and Weston had to keep his gaze above her waist as they walked through the rest of the crowd.

It was tempting to take a quick look, but he needed to focus, even if last night he’d fallen asleep to dreams of his hands and mouth all over her body.

That had to take a backseat to the issue between them. Nothing else could happen until he figured out what he’d done to have her throw up a thick, invisible concrete wall.

She handed him a menu, but he set it aside with a smile.

Raising a brow at him she asked, “Not hungry?”

He smiled at the bit of tension he heard in her voice. “I’m hungry, but it’s a diner. I can name a few things that are safe to be on any menu. Like a burger. Or chili.”

Nodding, Tracy set her menu aside, too.

She let out another breath and smiled. “When you put it that way…”

“So, I want to skip the small talk.”

He saw her flinch, but she didn’t try to change the topic.

“What did I do? I need to figure that out before I can apologize for it.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. There’s… nothing to apologize for. I just… I didn’t expect that you were law enforcement.”

He heard the hard edge of her voice as she said those last two words.

“Okay.”

“Hey. I’m Janine. What can I get you two?”

West looked up at the waitress and gestured at Tracy.

Startled, she looked down at her menu. “Uh. Diner food. Umm… BLT. Iced Tea. Sweet. Please.”

Janine nodded. “Is there any other kind?” Then she turned to look at him. “You?”

“Burger. Medium. Fries. Dr. Pepper.”

Janine nodded. “All right. Just give me a few minutes and you’ll have your orders.”

She turned and left, leaving them alone.

Weston saw how Tracy seemed to realize they were alone and her back straightened and her hands disappeared under the table.

Likely in her lap.

“I’ve made it a… survival instinct to stay away from police in a… personal capacity.”

“Those are nice words to say… you don’t date cops?”

Her nose scrunched a little. “You use the word ‘cops’?”

He frowned right back.

“Police? Law enforcement? We’ve been called worse.”

She sighed. “Around my house when I was a kid, it was Police officers. And Police force. Cops was a word that outsiders used to trivialize the profession.”

West heard the echo of someone else’s voice in her words. They were almost familiar somehow, he just couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“I’m a third generation Texas Ranger,” he told her, “that’s the title we cared about. Trooper. Deputy. Sheriff. Those are the words that matter. Cops. Pigs. We’ve heard them. Had people spit on us. I’m proud to wear the badge and serve the people of Texas.”

“I don’t doubt that you’re a good officer. I bet you’re great. You couldn’t let yourself be anything less. But that,” she paused as Janine came back and put down their plates and drinks in front of them on the table, “thanks.”

“If you two need anything, just holler and I’ll be back.”

“Thanks, Janine.” Weston saw her give him a wink as she moved away.

He looked back at Tracy and watched her adjust the layers of her BLT, covering more of the inside with bacon in a new configuration.

She looked up at him and smiled. “I like to get as much flavor as I can.”

“Makes sense.” He smiled. “I bet you think a lot about what you do before you do it.”

Her smile faltered a little. “Doesn’t everyone?”

He sat back and picked up a french fry, tapping it on the edge of the plate. “People do, but I have the feeling that you, more than most, think through things a lot.”

She shifted and bit into the inside of her cheek.

Fuck.

“I’m not criticizing you. Just an observation.”

He took a bite of a fry as she thought through his words.

He watched her, worried that he’d said too much.

Cut too close to the heart of the issue.

“I’ve never really thought about it that way.” She smiled a little. “Is this an interrogation skill?”

She’d said it lightly, but he wasn’t sure how close he’d come. Was she just saying that to deflect or-

“I’m not sure how much of what you just said is guesswork and how much of that is really insight. Still, you came a little too close to the truth. A truth,” she wrapped a hand around her glass of iced tea, “that you want to know. It’s the answer to your question.”

She took a sip of her iced tea and lowered it back to the table, cradling it in both hands.

“My dad was a law enforcement officer.”

Weston tensed up. ‘God, please don’t tell me he died in the line of duty.’

“He was the definition of the phrase ‘married to the job.’ There were days when he didn’t come home to the point where when he did come home it was a complete surprise.

“It would throw our schedule at home completely out of whack.

“By the time my mom decided to divorce him, people at school already thought he was dead or deployed or… I don’t know. He wasn’t my father or her husband as much as he was a servant of the State of Texas.

“I’ve seen my mother cry for hours at a time. I’ve seen her sit stock still and stare at the door waiting for him to come home and know that’s not going to happen.”

What could he say to that?

What could anyone say to that?

“Trace-”

“I wish you were a cowboy. Or… an accountant. Or-”

“I’m a man, Tracy. When I’m not wearing the badge, I’m just a man. And when I met you in the bar last night. I was a man. It was that man that asked you out to dinner.

“And that man who kissed you in the elevator.

“When I’m with you, I’m not thinking about being a Texas Ranger. I’m thinking about seeing you again.”

She took another sip of her iced tea and damn if he didn’t watch her lips touch the glass.

“I’m hoping that you want to see me, too.”

TRACY

Her hands were cold.

She couldn’t tell if it was nerves or the fact that she'd been holding onto her iced tea glass like it was a lifeline.

Once she'd heard who he was, or rather his profession, she'd basically resigned him to the 'thanks but hell no' list of her life.

Having him come to talk to her was something she'd expected.

He was a man who was not lacking in confidence.

And while she knew she should go and tell him she didn't want... or rather that she wouldn't see him again, he'd come to see her and asked her to talk.

She'd expected Jaime to help her out and turn him away, but instead, she'd practically ran away leaving them together.

Struggling with her thoughts, trying to untangle them in her head and oddly enough in her heart, she grumbled under her breath. "Traitor."

"Excuse me?"

Startled, she looked at him. "What?"

He laughed, but it wasn't a funny laugh. It was more of a scoff. "You just called me a traitor? Where did that come from?"

She hung her head and wanted to crawl under the table and hide. "Not you. Jaime. I was thinking... too much."

"You were thinking about your friend while you're having lunch with me." He sat back against the chair and gave her a curious look. "Is there something you want to tell me about your friend ?"

"I'm just making a huge mess out of this conversation." She pushed her plate, and it slid about an inch across the hard tabletop. "I really am a mess as a woman when it comes to relationships."

Weston sat up and reached along the table to pick up the ketchup bottle and twisted the top until it came off.

"I'm not all that knowledgeable about it myself.

Saying I'm busy is usually an understatement, but with the exception of a few dates to prom and homecoming I'm not all that knowledgeable myself. "

Tracy was processing the information as she watched him hold the ketchup bottle almost upside down as the ketchup inside was slowly sliding down the neck toward the opening.

She moved her gaze to his face and back down again to the bottle.

The ketchup inside was moving at a speed that would drive a sloth crazy.

"So," she looked away from the bottle back to his face and smiled, admiring his looks, "neither of us is all that awesome at dating?"

He chuckled. "Basically."

She looked back at the bottle and felt her fingers start to itch. Tracy wanted to snatch the bottle out of his hands.

"You look like you're about to lose your temper."

Her gaze flew back to his. "What?"

He was smiling at her. Then he lowered his gaze back to the bottle and she followed his eyes with her own. "I hate having to hit the back of the bottle just to get it out. So I've learned to be patient."

She rolled her eyes. "There's patience and then there's this." Tracy held out her hand. "Can I have the bottle?"

Weston didn't even hesitate, handing it over. Then he leaned in against the edge of the table. "What kind of magic do you know?"

Tracy smiled at him, feeling a strange kind of warmth in her chest. "It's not magic if you tell."

She looked down at the plate where he'd held the bottle for so long. Turning in her hand she looked down at the glass. Lifting her other hand she bumped the heel of her palm against the bottle a couple of times and then watched the ketchup flow.

After she had a nice mound of ketchup, she upended the bottle and set it down beside his plate. Smiling at the way he looked at her with more than a little wonder in his eyes, she chuckled. "That's right. I'm magic."

He picked up the pepper and sprinkled it on the ketchup, drawing her gaze.

Her stomach chose that moment to speak up for her. "Are you a guy that shares?"

Weston's smile flattened a little. His eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

Tracy frowned at him. "What?" She pointed a finger at his plate. "Your fries. Are you going to share your fries?"

His expression seemed frozen for a moment and then he laughed. "You're going to drive me crazy, aren't you?"

She felt laughter bubbling up inside. "I've got a Texas driver’s license. So anything is possible."

Weston shook his head. "I can see that I'm right, but yes... I'll share... my fries."

Tracy reached out and picked up a fry, holding it lightly between two of her fingers. Then she swept the end of it through the pile of ketchup and pepper on her side of the dish.

"I like a man who knows how to season his ketchup."

She took a bite of the fry wondering what the hell she was doing.

He answered by swiping the end of a fry through the pepper-flecked ketchup on his side. "At least you're not a woman who pretends not to eat on a date."

She braced herself, waiting for her gut to twist around on itself.

He might not be wearing his badge at the moment, but Weston Cooper was still a Texas Ranger. Badge or not, he was in law enforcement. How she hadn't seen it before, she didn't know.

Maybe , she wondered, I could blame it on the drinks at the bar .

No , she countered her own delusion, he was the hottest man I've ever seen .

Looking across the table at him she let out a breath in a soft sigh.

He's still the hottest guy I've ever seen, and he wants to date me .

She knew right then that she was about to make either the stupidest decision of her life, or the best.

"Tracy, I-"

"I'll make you a deal."

He stopped short and went silent, watching her as if she might bolt from the table.

"I'll go out with you, one date for each fry you share with me."

Weston didn't hesitate.

He reached his hand out and pushed his plate closer to her. "You can have them all."

"You sure?" She turned her head a little to the side, narrowing her eyes at him. "You can always say no."

"I'm not a stupid man, Tracy. I'm not changing my mind or saying no. I just want a chance."

Smiling at him, she reached for another fry. "Don't think I'm easy because all it took were some fries."

He shook his head, his steady, deep blue gaze never leaving her face. "The last thing I think is that you're easy. And I'm going to do everything I can not to mess this up."

That old voice inside of her tried to tell her that she was crazy, but she firmly shoved it down.

Call me crazy , she dipped a fry in the ketchup and pepper and held it out for him to take a bite, but I have a good feeling about this .

Weston leaned in and took a bite from the end of the fry and sat back to chew.

Damn , Tracy shook her head, he looked good.