Chapter 6
Cannon
We barely make it inside my cabin before I back Willow up against the wooden wall and claim her as mine. The door’s barely shut behind us—I kicked it closed without breaking stride. The cabin is dark except for the moonlight coming through the living room window.
My lips devour hers, our tongues clashing with all the pent-up emotions we’ve both been holding back. My dick is hard, straining against my jeans. I know she can feel it because her body moves in small circles against me.
I pull back, staring into the gorgeous blue eyes that have haunted me for years. I run my thumb over her cheek reverently. “You are so beautiful, Willow. All I do is think about you.”
“You think I’m beautiful?” Her words have a hint of hesitancy in them.
“Sweetheart, you have haunted my dreams for years. You are perfection to me.” I reach out and trace her jaw with my fingers before sliding my hands to her shoulders and slowly down her arms. I clasp her hands in mine and tilt my head to the side.
“Keep filling me. I want you in my bed, Willow. Tell me you want this too.”
Her breath hitches, and she bites that pouty little lip of hers before she grins that saucy and fish grin that I’ve come to love so much. “I want you, Cannon Sawyer. So much. But it can’t be a onetime thing with you. I can’t do that. So we’re either going to be together in every way or not.”
I stare at this beautiful vixen and smile. “There is no other man for you, Willow Ridgemont. And there sure as hell isn’t any other woman for me. You’re it for me. Where’s your bedroom?”
Her voice is low and husky.
I lead her through my home to my bedroom. Willow stops as soon as she gets inside. “Your bed is made.”
I chuckle. This is what she’s thinking about right now? “Yes.”
“Are those hospital corners?”
“It’s definitely different than your room.” I remember the bra draped on the chair with fondness.
My space is minimalist and simple, everything in its place.
A queen bed sits against the far wall, my dark gray bedding pulled tight with military precision.
There’s one nightstand and one lamp. The only decor in the room is a large framed picture above the bed of my great uncle’s ranch back in Texas.
Willow meanders over to the corner of the room and crouches on the ground, her curves driving me wild as she runs her finger along the baseboard. Wide-eyed, she hops up and stares at me, the ice on the river glowing in the moonlight through the window behind her.
“There is no dust. You don’t have any dust on your baseboards.”
“I like a clean house.”
“Cannon Sawyer. You’re a neat freak.” Hands behind her back, she sashays over to me, her auburn hair wild. “Are you sure you can handle my messy ways?”
I smirk with dirty thoughts of my girl’s hair mussed in my hands while she’s on her knees for me. “So you’re saying you’ll get messy with me?”
“Oh, my dear, sweet man, I’m about to get messy with you right now.”
Willow raises her shirt over her head, flinging it to the very spot she just checked for dust. She slips out of her joggers, throwing those to the side too.
I am stunned into silence at the gorgeous curves of her body, the swell of her breasts, the curve of her belly, the shape of her hips, her mismatched bra and panty set.
I love every inch of Willow Ridgemont. The way her breasts press together in her bra, the cute little mole on her chest and another on her belly that make me want to lick them both as I kiss down her body.
I remove my shirt, flinging it to land on Willow’s, and pull down my jeans to reveal my gray boxer briefs.
My phone rings, shattering the silence. When I glance at my watch and see that it’s Bennett, we both freeze. He doesn’t call unless it’s urgent.
“Yeah?”
“Violet and I will be there in ten. I need you at the house.”
All my senses go on alert, Willow already reaching for her shirt and tossing mine to me. “What’s happened?”
“There’s been another email. Vi’s not answering Willow. She with you?”
“Yep.”
We hang up, and Willow’s words echo my thoughts.
“Whatever this is, it’s not good.”
Ten minutes later, we’re standing in the kitchen, where Willow’s pacing around the large center island, her boots tapping against the floor in a rhythm that matches my own anxiety.
The kitchen is all warm woods and natural stone under bright overhead lighting, the farmhouse sink against the massive windows reflecting our worried faces back at us against the Montana darkness beyond the glass.
Within two minutes, headlights sweep across the kitchen windows, and then the back door opens bringing a blast of cold air.
Violet storms inside, her face pale, still wearing the cocktail dress from the Cattleman’s Dinner. “It came about twenty minutes ago, Will. Have you read it?”
With a somber expression, Willow shakes her head, her auburn hair pulled into a tight knot. “I wanted to wait for you.”
Bennett’s expression is grim, his jaw set as he removes his tux jacket. “Forwarded it to you, Cannon. It’s from a different account again, so I can’t get a trace of exactly the device it came from.”
It helps to have a computer genius as a friend and boss. I pull out my phone, walking around the kitchen island toward Willow as I read. My blood turns to ice.
To: help@stemsandblooms
From: morethanenamoredwithyou@emailservice
Willow, You looked beautiful at the Cattleman’s Dinner setup today. Black slacks suit you. J-
What the everlovin’ fuck?!
Her voice uncertain, Willow asks, “What does it say, Cannon?” The hum of the refrigerator and the distant wind outside the massive windows are the only other sounds in the room.
I hand over my device and notice her hand trembling slightly. All color drains from her face as she reads.
“Omigawd. They were at the venue today.” Her blue eyes flick to each of us, the mixed textures of the modern rustic living space that are normally inviting, doing little to comfort any of us. “Are they following me?”
Bennett leans against the marble counter, arms crossed. “Let’s not jump to conclusions. It was a public place with several vendors and employees coming and going. This person could have driven by when you were in the delivery lot.”
“Bennett’s right. But it can’t hurt to be cautious.” I’m already texting the Wildridge Chief of Police. “I just reached out to Miles Turner to put this on his radar.” My phone pings right away. “He says to call him if you receive any more messages.”
Willow and Violet move into the living room, settling onto the cream linen sofa in front of the large stone fireplace. Bennett lights the logs as the women sit, Willow’s head resting on her cousin’s shoulder, their arms wrapped tightly around each other.
Willow’s eyes are fixed on me, wide and frightened as she chews on her bottom lip. It takes everything in me not to pull her into my arms right here in front of everyone.
“Cannon?” Her voice is small, and I hate it. Willow Ridgemont is sunshine and sass and fire. Fear doesn’t belong on her. “Do you really think this is a coincidence?”
I’m never going to lie to Willow. Not after what just went down between us. I’m through hiding my feelings from her, even if what I think hurts.
“My gut tells me no.”
She heaves a sigh and snuggles into her cousin’s comforting arms.
I crouch in front of her on the wood flooring, bringing myself to her eye level. The firelight catches her heart-shaped face, the amber light flickering on her skin. She looks small on Bennett’s cream sofa, curled into her cousin, and the wrongness of it hits me hard.
Willow Ridgemont should never look small. She should never look afraid. She’s my sunshine girl.
Keeping my voice low and steady, I say, “Listen to me, Will. This person doesn’t own you. They don’t get to claim you or scare you or make you feel unsafe. You understand?”
She nods, but I can see the fear still swimming in those blue eyes, her porcelain skin sallow against her auburn curls.
“You’re staying here. At the ranch.” I glance at Bennett, who nods his agreement. “No arguments.”
"For how long?” Willow asks.
“As long as it takes.” I stand, needing to move, to plan, to do something. “Bennett, I want to know everyone who bought tickets to the Cattleman’s Dinner.” I turn to Violet. “We can cross-reference with your client list from the shop.”
“I’ll make the calls,” Bennett says, already reaching for his phone.
Violet nods. “I can pull that up right now.” She taps keys on Bennett’s laptop. “And tomorrow, I’ll help you pack a bag from the condo, Will.”
“I’d also like Jake to escort you both during business hours. Even though it’s full daylight and a public place, this person has seen you both at work and at home. I want eyes on both of you until we sort this out.”
Willow looks up at me, and despite everything, I see a flicker of trust in her eyes. Maybe even something more.
“Okay,” she agrees softly.
My phone buzzes. It’s Jake confirming he’s pulling the condo’s doorbell footage from this past week. Good. I need to see if this bastard’s been watching her home too. I let Bennett know that Jake and I will review the video feed for any out-of-place vehicles. It’s a start, at least.
“Once you have the footage, I’ll write a custom enhancement algorithm so that you can compare footage and pull cleaner images.”
“Fantastic,” I say, standing. “I need to make some calls and set up our security protocols.”
But before I can walk away, Willow catches my hand. “Cannon?”
She stands inches away as I look down at her.
“Thank you,” she says. “For taking this seriously. For... everything.”
For a moment, in front of Bennett and Violet, I let my mask slip.
I cup her face with my free hand, my thumb brushing her cheek, and I don’t give a rat’s ass who’s watching.
The amber light makes her eyes luminous, catching the glint of something fragile and trusting in them.
Her cheek is warm against my palm, and she doesn’t pull away.
Doesn’t even flinch. Just looks at me like I’m the answer to a question she’s been asking for three years.
“I told you. You’re mine now.” I slip her a quick kiss, her sunshine lighting up my gray. “And I protect what’s mine.”
Bennett coughs loudly, so I flip him the bird before stepping back into professionalism.
“I’ll be in Bennett’s office if anyone needs me,” I say, already heading for the stairs.
As I leave, I hear Violet’s whispered “Finally!” and Willow’s soft laugh, and despite the threat hanging over us, something in my chest loosens.
She’s mine. And whoever this ‘J’ fucker is, they’re about to find out what happens when you threaten what belongs to me.