Close Range Cowboy (WEST Protection Book 10), page 1
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Close Range Cowboy
WEST Protection
Book 10
Copyright Em Petrova 2022
Ebook Edition
Electronic book publication 2022
Cover Art by Bookin’ It Designs
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West Protection
HIGH-STAKES COWBOY Prequel Noah’s Story
RESCUED BY THE COWBOY Ross’s Story
GUARDED BY THE COWBOY Boone’s Story
COWBOY CONSPIRACY THEORY Mathias’s Story
COWBOY IN THE CROSSHAIRS Silas’s Story
PROTECTED BY THE COWBOY Josiah’s Story
BRAVO TANGO COWBOY Corrine and Panic’s Story
BREAKING IN THE COWBOY Casey’s Story
SHIELDED BY THE COWBOY McCoy’s Story
CLOSE RANGE COWBOY Landon’s Story
ZERO DARK COWBOY Judd’s Story
TOP SECRET COWBOY Jace’s Story
COWBOY UNDER SIEGE Jaren’s Story
Growing up, he was her tormentor. Now he’s her only hope.
Landon Trace, cofounder of WEST Protection, is minding his own business at a family wedding when a woman from his past literally jumps into his arms. His best friend’s little sister sure has grown up in the fifteen years since he’s seen her, but the way she catches his eye isn’t the real issue. She’s in danger—and he’s her only hope.
In their youth, Elliot—aka Ells—Watson couldn’t stand Landon’s company. He spent every spare second teasing her, pulling her braids and making fun of her name. Now she has to put all that behind her in the hope that he’ll help her escape the danger she landed in after she dug too deep in the corporate files. Her new bodyguard is still annoying and cocky…and grew into the sexiest man she’s ever laid eyes on.
Protecting Ells is a no-brainer. Keeping his hands off her proves to be much, much harder. With the corporate goons behind the big Social Security scam gaining on them, time is running out to find the perfect place to hide her. Only now he and Ells are facing a new kind of heat—the kind that happens between the sheets.
If smoldering forbidden passion, daring suspense AND getting tossed out of poker games excite you, 1-CLICK CLOSE RANGE COWBOY now. Also BINGE the entire WEST Protection series!
CLOSE RANGE COWBOY
by
Em Petrova
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter One
Landon Trace hooked his finger into his collar and pulled it a millimeter away from his neck. He hated ties. Ever since he was ten years old and his momma made him dress up in a stupid little white tuxedo with a blue cummerbund and carry the rings down the aisle at her best friend’s wedding.
Landon made sure to fall in a deep puddle upon leaving the church so the pristine white suit was splotched with mud for the pictures. And somehow he’d shredded the satin cummerbund and the frayed threads fluttered around his waist.
But he never did figure out how to get rid of that blasted tie.
With a sigh, he released his collar and brought his whiskey to his lips. No plastic cups for this ritzy bash. His dear cousin Corrine’s nuptials, to one of WEST Protection’s own, Michael Modeen, was the event everyone in Stone Pass, Montana wanted an invite to. Even if they had to wear ties.
The happy couple wasn’t about to skimp on this day. Plus, his little cousin saw the true merit of drinking good whiskey out of a real glass.
The single giant ice cube tinkled off the walls of the glass, but only he could hear it above the notes heralding the newlyweds’ first dance.
In amusement, he watched Modeen twirl Corrine across the dance floor. Landon had seen few couples so suited to one another. Trouble was, all those couples seemed to be his family members, and that put a hell of a lot of pressure on him to find someone equally perfect.
Which was why he was never getting married. He’d decided that years ago. He even made a pact with his best friend from grade school. But his buddy had gone back on that deal and gotten hitched too.
Landon didn’t mind being one of the last bachelors standing. He liked going it solo. Having no woman to answer to when he wanted to sit at the local bar watching the baseball game go into extra innings made life easier.
He also didn’t need to worry about a wife getting tired of him. He’d long ago faced up to the fact that he wasn’t that interesting and didn’t have what it took to keep a woman happy, till death did they part. Before they made it half that long, she’d be looking for an out.
Modeen dipped Corrine. She looked into his eyes, and they shared a laugh that had all the onlookers smiling too.
“Nice suit, cowboy.” The feminine voice hit his brain at the same time a manicured hand raked lightly down his chest. Lowering his glass, he centered his gaze on the pretty woman coming on to him.
Warm brown hair. Breasts pushed upward by her dress’s tight fit. She leaned toward him, acquainting him with her full C cups and the enticing shadow between them.
He grunted. “Do I know you?”
“Not yet, honey, but after I get back from the little girls’ room, you can twirl me around the dancefloor.” She offered him a bold smile, showcasing red lipstick on her front teeth.
Not his type. Not even for a twirl around the dance floor. Landon only gave her an ingratiating smile—the genteel version of “a cold day in hell.”
She walked away from him, heels clicking on the wood barn floor.
A chuckle sounded, and he swung his attention to his cousin, Noah, beside him. Noah raised his own glass of whiskey in tribute. “Someone thinks you look good in your suit.”
“The tie’s choking the fuck outta me.”
Noah buried his smile in his glass. “Knew it would be. How many weddings have you tried to get out of now?”
“Ohhh…at least a dozen.”
Noah’s lips quirked. “If I recall, you took off everything but your pants and shoes at the last family weddin’.”
“It was hot as hell that night. Everyone wanted to strip. I’m pretty sure a few guests jumped in the pond.”
“You know, Corrine ordered the shit pile moved so you wouldn’t be tempted to ruin yet another wedding outfit.”
Landon issued a noisy breath through his nostrils.
Noah swallowed a sip of alcohol. “So…you gonna take that lady up on her offer?”
Landon winced and cast a glance over his shoulder, hoping to hell she wasn’t back from the restroom already. “Not a chance. Long ago I learned to steer clear of women who refer to a bathroom as the ‘little girls’ room.’ Too high maintenance. Did you get a load of her nails?”
Noah grimaced. “Wouldn’t want those wrapped around your cock. She’d impale you and turn your willy into a sprinkler system.”
Landon sputtered on the sip of whiskey he’d just taken, and that turned into a coughing fit. Noah gave him a thump on the back, and a few heads turned their direction, including the bride and groom spinning in the middle of the floor.
“Oh shit. Corrine spotted us,” Noah intoned.
“Better stop with the dick jokes”—cough, cough—“or she’ll march over here and slap us both.”
Noah squeezed Landon’s shoulder. “Good timing—here comes my wife.” He quickly strode to the edge of the dancefloor and swung his pretty wife into the thick of the dancers who’d joined the newlyweds, Mr. and Mrs. Michael Modeen.
He watched them for a bit, smiling into each other’s eyes as they danced their way to their new life together. No one made a better couple than those two.
Polishing off his drink, Landon realized right about now that one wedding guest would be finishing up in the “little girls’ room” and be making her way back to him. Craning his neck to see over the crowd, he spotted the tallest people in the room, who happened to be a few more Wynton cousins standing at the bar. He made a beeline for them.
As he joined their group, Boone held up the whiskey bottle with a lift of his brow.
“Sure.” Landon held out his glass. Getting drunk off his ass wasn’t the plan, but he hated big social events like this as much as he hated wearing a tie. Considering his very large family and their endless barbecues, birthday parties, impromptu bonfires and holiday picnics, it made for a lot of angst in his life.
Just about the only thing he didn’t dislike was getting invited to a game of poker.
As Boone poured him three fin
Yes, the small, upturned nose was right. And the sweep of hair over her cheek reminded him of a girl he once knew. Only that girl wore two ratty braids and boys’ clothes and her name was Elliot.
This woman wore a silver dress—or was it blue? When she turned, the big warm lights dangling from the barn rafters caught the fabric and transformed it to another color.
He raised his full glass to his lips as he continued to study the familiar face. Maybe it really was the girl from his childhood. If it were her, she’d changed a lot in the nearly fifteen years since he’d last seen her.
Boone brought his hand down on Landon’s shoulder, startling him from his thoughts. “I’m gonna dance with Lauralee.”
He dipped his head in a nod. Just then, he spotted the lady who wanted to dance with him. Oh hell—she was bustling across the room. A couple stepped in his line of sight, and he took the opportunity to duck and run.
He hadn’t even made it halfway across the barn before a body slammed into him. His drink sloshed all over the front of his shirt. A few drops might have even soaked his tie. A woman threw her arms around his neck and yanked his head down.
His white Stetson slipped and he reached up to steady it before he looked down to find whiskey had also spilled all over the woman who’d hurled herself at him.
Amber droplets clung to the V of her cleavage, mingling with the pale freckles spattered on her skin. His gaze dipped a bit further to the silver-blue gown she wore. Then shot up to her face.
His gaze locked with hers. He opened his mouth to say her name, but she cut across him.
“Oh, I’m sorry! Let’s fix this. Come with me.” She grabbed him by the hand and dragged him to the back of the barn and out the side door that usually led to the paddock where the horses were kept. For the wedding, it had been set up with a plank floor to keep people’s feet out of the muck and a few portable bathroom units were placed there.
Too stunned by Elliot’s appearance to react, he let her tow him into one of the bathrooms and slam the plastic door.
He looked around himself at the spacious unit. “What the hell? This is what you women get while the men get a seat with a hole?”
She spun toward him.
Yes, those eyes were the same shade of faded denim he remembered from their younger years. How many times had he put tears in them just because he was her big brother’s friend and they liked to tease her?
Her beauty hit him hard enough to make him gulp. And damn if she wasn’t wearing slick lip gloss, the kind that probably had a flavor like strawberry or bubble gum. God, he loved kissing off lip gloss of any kind, but he especially liked seeing lips like that wrapped around his—
What the hell was he thinking? This was the girl he’d grown up hating. She hated him too. She was the Jerry to his Tom. The Roadrunner to his Wile E. Coyote.
“You’re just as clumsy as you ever were, Ells. Some things never change.”
Her chest heaved, drawing his attention to that tender line of cleavage still dotted with the whiskey he didn’t get to properly savor.
“Some things do change, Landon,” she said in a voice that had richened to the throaty tone of a grown woman. “I’m intentionally clumsy now.”
His brows shot up. “You did this on purpose?”
“Yes. I need your help.” Desperation leaped into her eyes, reminding him of countless moments growing up. When he’d tossed fishing worms into her hair…or how she’d scream and run from bees.
Goddammit.
He was looking at fear.
* * * * *
Ells clamped her fingers around Landon’s hand, aware of how icy hers were in comparison despite the eighty-degree evening. Her insides were knotted, and damn if her undergarments weren’t trying to slice her in half. Why had she bothered with all that yanking and tugging to put on shapewear underneath the dress she’d literally grabbed off the sales rack and carried to the checkout without even trying it on?
Landon gripped her fingers tighter in return. Well, he was either trying to win a thumb war with her or he really was being supportive for once.
If she could think of anybody else in the world to help her, she wouldn’t be here right this minute. She hated asking Landon to help her. He would put the blame on her like always. But what choice did she have?
When she opened her eyes, she found his gaze on her. The depths she remembered being brown seemed to be even darker. He was always tough and mean. But when he got that twinkle in his eyes, no girl could resist him.
Now he looked as if he’d seen some things he’d never recovered from. No doubt a man in his position did.
She was counting on that.
“Elliot.”
Irritation smacked her out of nowhere. “Nobody calls me that anymore.”
His lips twitched at one corner.
“Damn you, Landon Trace. Will you ever stop teasing me about my boy’s name? I’ve only told you about a million times it’s a family name.”
“For a boy.” His mouth stretched into the smile that spiked her irritation level a notch higher.
“Look—”
Someone rattled the bathroom door.
“Argh! Just a minute!” she cried out. Then she lowered her voice to an urgent tone. “I’m sorry to drag you into the women’s bathroom.”
His gaze dropped to her lips.
Her brain hiccupped to a halt.
Uhh…this was new. What was he looking at? Had she smeared her lipstick with that wedding champagne they’d all toasted the new couple with? Of course, Landon was probably just waiting for the opportunity to tell her that her lips would look better on a man too.
She lifted a hand and snapped her fingers in front of his face. He jerked his stare back to hers, and a scowl slid over features that were much more rugged than she remembered.
“So why did you drag me into the women’s bathroom?” His drawl was more pronounced too.
“I needed to talk to you alone, that’s why. I can’t reach Evan.”
His mood shifted in a blink, from teasing and relaxed to alert and ready to do battle. Even the way he widened his stance reflected the change. “Something’s wrong with your brother?”
“No. At least I don’t think so.” Oh god—what if the people after her had found Evan…and his family? Those dear little nieces of hers and her sweet-as-pie sister-in-law would be hauled into her mess too.
Even though Evan considered her flighty as hell, she adored him and his family. Letting him down yet again drove her guilt to an all-time high.
Once in a while Evan asked her to babysit for Christmas parties or a friend’s wedding weekend. But being the baby of the family, Ells had never been around kids very much. Her maternal instincts were lacking, too—she didn’t go ga-ga over babies the way her friends did. Her ovaries were as silent as an Egyptian tomb. In fact, a few times she wondered if tomb raiders hadn’t taken those too.
Less than confident in her babysitting skills, she always turned Evan down. Except a week ago he’d called her to ask if she could babysit while he and his wife slipped away for their anniversary.
Under pressure and an added layer of guilt that she always said no, Ells cracked and agreed. Then her life went south…
But she didn’t know how dire the situation really was until she hit her hometown.
The conversation played in her head.
“Evan, it’s me. I know I said I could babysit for you guys, but something came up.”
Like somebody following her.
Her brother huffed out a noisy sigh. “Again, Ells? Ugh—fine! See you when you grow up a little.”
She never got a chance to tell him she was on the run—or warn him to stay safe.
Suddenly, she really couldn’t breathe. She tipped forward, letting her breasts spill out of her sweetheart bodice. It relieved a little pressure, but not enough.
Gasping for air, she tipped her head to look at her brother’s best friend—and found him staring right at the deep well of her cleavage. A glance down again showed her just how exposed she was.
