Guarded by the Cowboy (WEST Protection Book 2) Page 3

  At one time or other, the Wynton boys had provided a helping hand or a tidbit of information to Clay Lexis, former state trooper in their small town. Recently, he’d been appointed a justice of the peace, and good thing too. Having Lexis as an ally was proving to be a good thing.

  “I’ll head out in a minute. Have you seen our father or the rest of our siblings?”

  “Dad left at daybreak to look at a new tractor a couple hours’ drive from here. Noah and Josiah are wrapped up with work.”

  “And Corrine’s probably out with one of her boyfriends. All right, I’ll just say my goodbye to you.” He extended a fist, and Ross bumped knuckles with him, and then followed with their right shoulders.

  When they stepped apart, Boone eyed him. “With you and Noah in relationships, I never guessed I’d be the first to get hitched.”

  “I know. Momma’s gonna kill us when she finds out.”

  He groaned, but it turned into a grin as he hefted his bags and headed toward his truck.

  The sky was already darkening to evening, chasing away the small tufts of white clouds scattered across the horizon. The yellow-gold of the sunset fell across the field, so bright he had to squint when he looked across it. They had a long drive ahead, and neither would get any sleep.

  Leaving the ranch always came with a bittersweet pang. He loved adventure, always had. But coming home proved to be just as sweet.

  With little idea what he was about to run in to on Black’s property, he could only hope to free the woman and hurry back home. Things would be different upon his return, though. New flowers would sprout in Momma’s garden. Newborn calves grew practically overnight.

  And he was about to get a hell of a lot closer to Lauralee. Within the hour, she’d go from new employee to wife.

  Fake wife, he reminded himself as he parked in front of the office.

  She stood next to her vehicle, both hands wrapped around the handle of her bag. Her face appeared even paler, her freckles darker, and her eyes stormier.

  She looked exactly like a bride about to upchuck thanks to wedding day jitters.

  * * * * *

  Why was she so nervous? This was a job. Sure, she’d trained to spy on people from behind a screen and on the dark web, but this would stretch her skill set.

  However, she didn’t see a choice. A woman was crying out for help and Lauralee refused to be the one thing standing in her way of gaining freedom.

  Boone waited for her, and they didn’t have much time.

  She dumped her bag in the back of a truck she hadn’t seen before and probably bore a license plate registered to whoever Boone would be impersonating.

  When she opened the passenger door, her gaze fell across a small black box.

  Pulse hammering, she snatched it off the seat and clambered inside. She was too afraid to open the box and see the contents. It’s fake, she kept telling herself, but tell that to her body, which was trying to shut down her lungs.

  “Buckle up.” Boone gave her the impression he meant more than her seatbelt, but surely he wasn’t capable of such advanced thinking. It fit, though—they were embarking on a rough journey of twists and turns neither of them could anticipate.

  Judging by his expression, he wanted to throw up as much as she did at the thought of getting hitched. But they were up to their knees in it now, and she could only hold on for the ride.

  When he backed out and took the driveway in a cloud of dust, she set the tiny box on her lap. It sat there, almost burning her. Gold or platinum? Which had he chosen?

  Did it matter? None of this was real.

  So why did she itch to know what the rings looked like?

  “Did you have this just laying around or did you have to run to Kmart?” She held the box out on her palm.

  He slanted a look her way. “I know a guy.”

  “A guy who what? Delivered it to the house?”

  “Somethin’ like that.”

  Somethin’ like that—or that? This man couldn’t give her a straight answer on much of anything, which didn’t bode well when it came time to file for divorce. She envisioned years of slashing through red tape in order to unhitch herself from Boone.

  Great—now she was even more nauseated.

  “Aren’t you gonna look at it?” He paused at the gates and pressed a button. The black iron bearing the big W when the pair was closed swung slowly open, and Boone drove through.

  She shrugged off his question. “What does it matter what they look like?”

  Then why did her insides tighten at the very thought of taking a look? Would it snap up or sweetly pop open to reveal the ring?

  “Suit yourself,” he grumbled and took a right on the road leading to Stone Pass.

  Small-town Montana wasn’t anything like she’d pictured it before moving here. Seeing it in photographs proved considerably different from up close and personal. After submitting her resume for this job, she’d researched the area. The quaint charm and backdrop of mountains looked pretty, but driving into town for the first time and seeing it in person was very different.

  Dark evergreens dotted the horizon, meeting up with the majestic white-capped mountains in the distance. Gray storm clouds banked in the west, but what did she expect? Rain on her wedding day sounded like the perfect start to an already odd union.

  She closed her fingers around the velvet box. She had to look.

  Just one quick peek.

  Using her thumb, she flipped the lid up. It snapped open as violently as a croc’s jaws. She jumped and bit down on her lower lip as her gaze fell on the matching set including an engagement ring and a wedding band.

  The air in the truck seemed to be sucked out, leaving her ears popping. Or maybe she’d gone deaf from shock.

  “These are…beautiful.” When he’d asked if she preferred gold or platinum, she honestly had no clue. Her biggest accessory was a hair scrunchie and the occasional pair of hoop earrings worn on a night out. But the square-cut diamond in platinum surrounded by tiny diamonds stole her breath away.

  Her palms grew sweaty, and her heart pounded as she drank in how the wedding band fit perfectly against the diamond-studded engagement ring band to create the illusion of one thick band.

  “I’m glad you approve.” Boone’s tone stomped on any fake fantasies carrying her away instantly and grounded her in reality.

  She dropped back to Earth and snapped the lid shut.

  “I hope the rings are fake.”

  He cocked a brow at her.

  Her stomach took a nosedive. “They’re real?”

  “If we’re going to slide under the radar of a billionaire who knows the finer things in life, I can’t give you a cubic zirconia. Don’t worry—we’ll write the set off on the yearly taxes.”

  She nodded. “That’s good news.” She dragged in a deep breath. “Before we do this, I’d like to know more.”

  “Shoot,” he invited.

  The fact Boone was suddenly willing to listen to her made her a little shy all of a sudden. She cleared her throat and fidgeted with her hair, pushing it over her shoulder. “Do I need to pretend to be in love with you during the ceremony?”

  “No. This is a business deal, and the JP is a buddy of ours. He knows what we’re here for.”

  “Okay.” A trickle of a sigh escaped her lips. “I wondered about Black’s wife—how exactly did she get word through the staff member? Did they phone Ross or…” Unsure how these things worked, she spread her hands, waiting for Boone’s reply.

  “He received an email in the middle of the night and got the ball rolling then.”

  “I see. Do I need to handle anything there—such as hacking the email and deleting it so the staff member can’t be tracked?”

  He pinned her in his amber gaze. “You can do that?”

  She nodded.

  “Then take care of it. We don’t want any suspicions about us once we arrive at the ranch, and no fallout can land on the staff member. She might be our only link to his wife.”<
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  She grabbed her phone.

  “What are you doing?”

  She gave him a look. “Texting Ross to have him forward that email so I can get to work.”

  “You’ll have to dump your phone before we arrive at the ranch.”

  She groaned. “I just bought this one!”

  “The company will cover it.”

  “Can’t I just hide it?”

  “No. We’re going into this with no mistakes. Any wrong move could alert Black that his wife sought our help, and we can’t take the risk.”

  She nodded. “I wasn’t thinking of that. There’s so much involved in this.”

  “Probably a few things we don’t even know yet.”

  Curling her fingers around her phone, she thumbed Ross a text while Boone navigated the streets of Stone Pass to the JP’s office.

  When they parked, she took one look at the American flag hanging out front and her toes almost froze off, her case of cold feet was so bad.

  Turning her head to Boone, she whispered, “We’re really going through with this?”

  His grave expression didn’t offer an ounce of comfort to his prospective bride. But on the other hand, it assured her that he didn’t want her either. Therefore, nothing would come from this union except—with luck—a woman freed.

  She dragged in a deep breath.

  “Put on the ring, honey.”

  She opened her mouth to blast him for calling her honey once again, and then cut herself short. If they were to pull off this hoax, they both needed to hone their acting skills, and what better time than now?

  Slowly, she opened the box but jumped when it snapped again. She reached in and plucked out the engagement ring.

  Hands damp, stomach wobbling, she slid it onto her ring finger. The square diamond glowed in the refractions of all the others surrounding it, and the entire piece sparkled as if a beam of bright sunshine hit it, even though a storm was coming.

  “It’s too big.”

  “Yeah, I didn’t know your size. I’ve never bought a woman a ring before.” His voice emitted as a hoarse rasp.

  She studied his rugged, solemn features. “It’s fine. I’m ready.”

  He gave her a nod and then opened his door. She climbed out too, watching Boone circle the front of the truck. He paused beside her and held out a hand.

  With another dip of her stomach, she took it. The rough, dry touch of his callused palm and fingers were the exact opposite of her sweaty hand. She expected him to pull free and wipe his hand on his jeans, but he didn’t do such a thing as he led her inside.

  The office smelled of furniture polish and paper. A big, broad-shouldered man was waiting for them, already dressed in his robe.

  Boone released her hand to grip the JP’s. “Lexis. We can’t thank you enough for this.”

  “Someday I expect to sit down together with a beer or two and you can tell me the whole story.” The man’s gaze settled on Lauralee.

  Nerves kicking in even more, she shifted from foot to foot. “Hi.”

  “So you’re Boone’s bride. Welcome, and let’s get started.”

  Two secretaries emerged from a side door to act as witnesses. In seconds, Lauralee and Boone were repeating vows and then signing the certificate Boone had secured on the fly, along with the rings.

  Lauralee stared down at her fingers a split second before the JP said, “You didn’t even kiss your bride, Wynton.”

  Panic swept through her. She’d told him not to lay a hand on her…yet, how were they going to be believable as husband and wife if they acted like strangers?

  Boone stared down at her. Her gaze fixed on his hard, full, unyielding lips.

  “We’ll save that for the honeymoon,” he said to Lexis, who laughed because he knew damn well this marriage was as fake as they came.

  Relief flooded her veins. On the heels of that came the worry that Boone disliked her more than she first thought. He picked on her, and maybe that was because he thought her annoying and ugly. She’d certainly been bullied about her looks growing up, and more than one man had called her a nerd.

  Instead of kissing her, Boone pivoted to the JP, and they shook hands again. Seconds later, she and Boone were standing outside on the sidewalk. The wind picked up as the storm blew in, and her hair swirled into her eyes as she hurried to keep up with his long strides on the way back to the vehicle.

  He reached for the passenger door, and her stare fixed on the platinum band he’d selected for himself—or his “guy” had. He opened the door for her, and she realized this was as close he’d ever come to being a gentleman toward her.

  “I hope this doesn’t mean you expect me to do your laundry,” she remarked as she settled in the passenger seat.

  His lips twitched, but not into a smile.

  When they drove away from the office, no tin cans jangled behind the truck to kick off her new life. No, that was just a daydream of her youth.

  Chapter Three

  “I did it.” Lauralee’s triumphant announcement came with a wide grin and the sparkle he’d seen in her eyes when she’d outdone him by zeroing in on that suspect on video.

  “Did what?”

  She lowered her phone to her lap and flexed her fingers as if they’d gotten a workout. “I hacked the email and managed to delete all traces of what the staff member sent to WEST Protection.”

  “Oh. That was quick.”

  She turned her attention to the phone in her lap. “Should I reset my phone to factory settings?”

  “You can, but it won’t make much difference when I smash it.”

  “Smash…” She trailed off, staring straight ahead as if the answer to why he’d smash her phone could be located on the landscape. “You’re right. Everything leaves a trace. Here.” She dropped the device into the cup holder. “Do whatever you need to do.”

  “I’ll take care of it at the next stop. In the meantime, we should get to know each other better.”

  Her gray eyes flew open so wide, anyone would think he’d just asked her to take off her panties.

  Oh.

  Fuck.

  Why the hell did such a thing pop into his mind? Lauralee wasn’t his type. Not that he had one—she just wasn’t it.

  “How do we…get to know each other?” Her voice held a raspy note.

  “Q and A,” he bit out. “My name is Brodie Marks. I’m twenty-eight.”

  “Are you really?”

  “Rule about making things up is you stick to the truth as close as possible.”

  “Got it. So I’m Lara Marks, and I’m twenty-six.”

  He gave a nod. “What color are my eyes?”

  “Hazel, but they look more amber and sometimes gold in certain lights—”

  “Good attention to detail. And yours are gray, but sometimes look silver.”

  She blinked at him as if stunned that he knew without looking first.

  He went on, “My favorite food is anything hot. Chicken wings, jalapenos, five-alarm chili.”

  “I love pasta.”

  “Which one’s your favorite?”

  She cocked her head. “Is Black really going to ask what my favorite pasta is?”

  “Prob’ly not, but it’s good to be prepared.”

  “Alfredo.”

  “Do you drink?”

  “Only the occasional craft beer, but I avoid any dark beer because they give me migraines.”

  “That brings me to health issues. Any problem areas?”

  “Do contacts count?”

  He considered how she’d look in glasses and realized he’d see her in them soon.

  “Do you wear contacts?” she asked.

  “I’ve got perfect vision and hearing. Only thing I’ve ever had is a concussion after getting kicked by a cow. Do you ride?”

  “Bikes?”

  He chuckled. “You’re in Montana now, Lauralee. I meant horses.”

  “Actually, I can ride. My aunt and uncle had horses when I was growing up, and I’m pretty confiden
t in the saddle.”

  Again, he tried to picture her seated atop a horse, her thighs wrapped around it and her body rolling with its every step.

  He blocked the thought from forming in his mind.

  “My turn. Tell me a time when you were scared.”

  Her question caught him off guard. “Why would you want to know that?”

  “Husbands and wives share that sort of thing…at least I think they should.” She slipped her fingers through her hair, and he tracked the movement.

  “Okay. Once my brothers and I were hunting and came across a grizzly on an elk carcass.”

  “Oh God.”

  “It swung its head and looked at us. Ross told us to quietly back away, but I still felt my”—he broke off before saying “my balls shrink” and instead went with—“hair stand on end.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Fifteen or so. We backed away, and the grizzly went back to eating the elk.”

  She studied him silently. “My scariest moment seems tame in comparison.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Well, I was in college. I didn’t party often, but this time I got dragged to one by a friend of a friend who needed a buddy. But when we got there, things got weird.”

  He tossed her a look. “Like binge-drinking weird?”

  She shook her head. “Like orgy weird.”

  He damn near swerved off the road. “You went to an orgy in college?”

  “Not knowingly! As soon as we stepped in the door, we both wanted to leave, but…” She shrugged as if wanting to strip off the memory. “It was a little bit like coming upon a wreck and knowing you don’t want to look but looking anyway.”

  Christ, why was he getting hard at the thought of his coworker being a voyeur on a group sex scene?

  “What made you frightened?” His voice had grit to it.

  “I was afraid of being dragged into a situation I couldn’t handle. I hate being in over my head.”

  “That I understand perfectly.”

  “Okay, total topic change. What’s your favorite trait about me?”

  Since he didn’t know her well, only that she was dedicated to her job and extremely thorough, he tried to pick out something else. “Your freckles.”