Micah (Bad Boys of Dry River, Wyoming #7)

Chapter One

As always, to my wonderful editor, cover designer and friend, Amy Valentini. Without you, none of this would be possible. I value your input and treasure your friendship. Let’s hope we’ll be doing this again.

To my fantastic betas, Sandra, Toby, Rhonda, and Dedee – you ladies rock and I love you.

To my readers, I say it in every book, but you are why I do this. You keep me going even when I want to quit. A lot of you have asked about Micah and his ‘damn pixie’, so I hope you’re happy with their happily ever after.

Thank you all .

An earlier rain made the deserted street glisten when the streetlight’s glow hit it. Taking a deep breath, she opened the car door and stepped out then closed it quietly. Her gaze quickly traveled up and down the street. The bark of a dog somewhere in the distance was the only sound filling the silence. Of course, it’s the only sound! It’s three thirty in the morning. Anyone with half a brain was home in bed.

She shivered against the chill. It was early fall, and the air temperature already too chilly but since living in Wyoming fulltime, she had become used to it now. She tugged the zipper on her jacket up then pulled the hood up to cover her head and some of her face before running down the street to the house she intended to break into. Stopping in the street, she stared at the home. It was beautiful with its stone front and small porch. An attached double-car garage sat to the right of the porch.

As she started walking up the driveway security lights suddenly came on making her gasp and leap into the shrubs next to the privacy fence. When no one came out after a brief time, she let out a relieved sigh, stepped out, and ran to the back of the house. She sure hoped he didn't have a dog which made her think of her own, Runt. She missed her terribly but thank God, Roni was taking care of Runt while she was away. Slowly, she crept around to the back, opened the gate on the privacy fence, and climbed the steps leading to a deck. The fifteen-pane door didn’t have an unusual lock so she pulled two paperclips from her back pocket and after straightening them she inserted them into the lock and worked them around until she heard the lock open. She turned the knob and entered the dark house. After quietly closing the door, she was about to pull her flashlight from her pocket when a strong arm wrapped around her neck from behind and she felt the pressure of a gun barrel pressing against her temple. She grabbed his arm and tried to speak, but he held it too tight against her throat.

“You picked the wrong fucking house to break into,” his deep voice growled near her ear.

Pulling at his arm, she choked out her words. “Agent Turner, it’s me, Patsy Murphy.”

His arm loosened, but he didn’t let go of her. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Patsy dropped her hands and immediately wished she hadn’t when they came in contact with bare thighs. She let out a gasp.

“Are you naked?”

“Well, excuse the hell out of me for not taking the time to put clothes on when I hear someone breaking into my home.” Micah Turner grasped her elbow in his hand and led her further into the room.

Patsy couldn’t see where Micah was taking her but when he pushed her down into a chair, she assumed it was the living room. He turned a light on, and she quickly placed her hand over her eyes.

“Please, put some clothes on,” she muttered.

“I’ll be right back. This had better be good.”

She spread her fingers to see him walking away and immediately wished she hadn’t. She couldn’t keep her eyes off his tight ass. Who knew that was under those suits? Her eyes moved up to his broad shoulders as he walked around a sofa then disappeared down a hallway.

Dropping her hand, Patsy glanced around the room. It was decorated beautifully, but it was also very masculine. A stone fireplace sat between the door she’d opened and a long window. Another recliner sat on the other side of the end table beside the one she sat in. Both chairs faced a large flat-screen TV that sat centered on a tall stand situated between two doorways. To the right of the chairs sat a mauve sofa, acting as a divider to the hallway.

“So, why did you break into my house?” Micah asked re-entering the room while pulling his T-shirt down over his chest.

She loved how his dark hair almost touched the collar of his shirt. Wasn’t that a little long for an FBI agent? He took a seat on the sofa and stared at her with those gorgeous dark eyes.

“I needed to talk to you,” she said.

“And you couldn’t ring the damn doorbell?”

“I didn’t think you’d let me in. Seeing as how we feel about each other.”

Micah sat forward. “And just how do we feel about each other?”

Patsy shrugged. “I suppose it could be said that we don’t like each other. I know you call me pixie. ”

She glared at him and watched his sexy mouth twitch as if to hold back a grin.

“Someone snitched on me, huh? I suppose Mont told Isabella and she couldn’t resist telling you.”

She waved her hand. “It doesn’t matter.”

“So why did you break into my house?” he asked again.

“I told you—”

“I know what you told me. You said you needed to talk to me. About what?”

Micah sat back and she did her best to keep her eyes off his crotch which wasn’t easy considering he was wearing gray sweatpants. Soft, clingy sweatpants that left little to the imagination even as his white T-shirt emphasized his pecs. She raised her eyes, and she saw him looking at her. He lifted a black brow, and she blushed to the roots of her blonde hair. The man was too good-looking for her peace of mind.

The first time she saw Agent Micah Turner, she swore her heart had stopped. He came striding into her best friend’s bedroom when Isabella Lofton had summoned him to answer questions about Montgomery Bradford—the man Isabella eventually married but had thought dead for almost a year. Both Mont and Micah were FBI agents and had worked undercover to catch Jonas Barkley, a lifetime criminal who wanted to kill Isabella’s father, the governor of Wyoming. Barton Lofton had put Barkley away for murder. Mont had gone undercover in prison to get close to Barkley. The FBI wanted to get to Barkley’s men, so Mont broke Barkley out of jail with the help of the agency, of course and brought Micah in to help with the case.

Micah Turner was sex on two legs with his dark hair and eyes the color of dark chocolate surrounded by thick, lush lashes that she or probably any woman would kill for. A sexy mouth, with a bowed upper lip and full bottom lip, that she desperately wanted to suck into her mouth and nibble on, sat under a straight nose. Sexy stubble covered his strong chiseled jaw and neck. Patsy wouldn’t let him know she was attracted to him. She couldn’t get involved with anyone at this time in her life, in case she had to run which was what she was doing now.

“Patsy,” Micah snapped.

She drew in a deep breath.

“Eighteen months ago, while I was visiting my parents and friends in Oregon, and…uh…I witnessed a murder." She paused allowing the sudden onset of anxiety to pass. “I was on my way to a friend’s place, and I couldn’t find anywhere to park, so I had to park on the next street over. I decided to cut through an alley. It wasn’t dark yet, and I’d done it so many times when I lived there that I wasn’t scared.” She paused again and breathed. “I saw a man and a woman arguing. I was thinking of just going back the way I’d come when suddenly, he stabbed her in the stomach and then in the chest. I’m surprised I didn’t scream. I guess I just froze. Anyway, I started to back up and ran smack into a trashcan. He looked up and saw me. I turned and ran as fast I could. I could hear him behind me. I ran around the corner, and a door attendant at an apartment complex was holding the door open for someone leaving so I ran inside. Of course, he yelled at me, but I ducked behind the counter. The woman at the counter told me to leave or she’d call the police. I was shaking and couldn’t say anything. Then I heard a man’s voice asking the man at the door if anyone had run in here or passed by. The door attendant told him he saw someone run past and the woman behind the counter told him that a tenant had just left, but no one had come in. I guess they figured out I was in trouble because when the man left, the woman called the police. I testified against him at the trial.”

“Good for you.”

“I thought so at the time but when the verdict came back guilty, he swore he’d find a way to get to me, and I’d live to regret putting him away. I was approached by the US Marshals to enter witness protection because the man I testified against was Victor White.”

Micah hissed in a breath. “You should have then. Why didn’t you?”

“I am not going into hiding and never see my family or friends again. I can’t imagine not seeing my family or Bella again.”

“Do you have any idea how powerful the man is that you put away?”

“I didn’t then but when the Marshals approached me, they informed me.”

“Did you tell Mont or Nathan?”

“I refuse to put them in danger.”

Micah smirked. “But it’s no problem putting me in danger?”

“Agent Turner, I just can’t take the chance that Bella or Mont would be hurt because of me, they have children to think of. Nathan has Shelly and a daughter, you—”

“Don’t have anyone. Is that it?” He stood and walked to the fireplace and turned around to face her. “Why now? What’s going on?”

“For the past week, I’ve been seeing the same man everywhere I go. At first, I thought it was a coincidence but after seeing him four times, I knew it wasn’t. I hadn’t seen him for a couple of days so I decided to visit Bella, but I saw him following me and I knew I had to leave Dry River. I lost him so I quickly drove to my house and packed some clothes, and asked Roni to watch my dog. Just as I got back into my car and pulled out of the driveway, he came up behind me. I drove as fast as I could but he continued to follow me. I had made the decision when I saw him the last time to come here and see if you could help me. He followed me for hours, but once I got on the interstate I was able to move over faster than he could, and I got off at the next exit ramp. I saw him drive on by, but still trying to get over. Even if he got off at the next exit, he would have no idea where I was going.”

“How did you know where I live?”

Micah walked back to the sofa and sat down then leaned forward resting his arms on his thighs, he clasped his hands.

“From Bella’s address book. I know she keeps it in the office in their house. I asked to use the computer to check for flights to Oregon.” Patsy shrugged.

“How do you expect me to help you?”

“I’m not sure. I’m scared. Can’t you arrest him?”

“For what? You really don’t have any proof he’s following you.”

Patsy jumped up. “So I just wait until he kills me? Is that it? Then the big bad FBI agent will arrest him?”

Micah slowly stood and towered over her. “You should do what the Marshals suggested.”

“No!”

She quickly blinked back tears. There was no way she’d cry in front of him.

“Forget it. I’ll go. Thanks for nothing.” She turned to leave the room when he wrapped his fingers around her wrist.

“Stop. Just stay here for a few days, and I’ll see what I can find out. We’ll talk more in the morning.” He cocked his head. “Just what were you planning to do once you sneaked into my house?”

“Sleep on your couch until you got up in the morning.”

Micah shook his head and blew out a laugh. “You certainly have some balls, pixie. Come with me. You can sleep in the spare bedroom. You’re lucky I don’t set the alarm when I’m here, or we’d be surrounded by cops. Did you bring clothes with you?”

She nodded.

“In your car?” She nodded again .

“Do you need something to sleep in?”

“Yes, please.”

Micah stared at her and then gave a terse nod. “All right. Come with me.”

He started down the hallway.

Patsy sighed and followed him, trying her best not to stare at his ass in those sweatpants. He stopped at a door on the right, reached in, and turned a light on then jerked his chin for her to enter the room. She glanced around. It was a nice room with a queen size bed with a white headboard and the bed was covered in a red comforter. A matching white dresser sat along a wall with a small flat-screen TV perched on it.

“Thank you.”

“Sure. I’ll be right back.”

He moved out of the doorway but quickly returned and tossed a white T-shirt onto the bed. “You’re more than welcome to take a bath or shower before going to bed. It might help you relax. You’re safe here, Patsy. Goodnight.”

He pulled the door closed then she heard another door close.

Picking up the T-shirt, Patsy held it up. It would look like a dress on her. She placed it to her nose and inhaled. It smelled so good. Taking a deep breath, she entered the bathroom to shower.

****

Micah sat on his bed and rubbed his hands down his face. What the hell am I supposed to do with her ?

He stood and pulled his T-shirt off over his head then stripped off his sweatpants and crawled between the sheets. He had to get up early in the morning. Well, later this morning now. He shook his head. She was going to just calmly sleep on his couch until he got up in the morning. He chuckled then sobered. Damn pixie.

He rolled over, punched the pillow, and closed his eyes but they didn’t stay shut for long. He was awake.

Patsy Murphy was a beautiful woman. Her dark blonde hair streaked with lighter shades hung past her shoulders. She had freckles sprinkled across her pert nose, and her eyes were a dark brown. She was a little thing, but she had a body and face that could take a man’s breath away. He’d thought so the first time he saw her. He’d never been into petite women and he stood at least a foot taller than her. At six-four, he hated bending over to kiss short women. It all evened out in bed though.

He grinned. He wouldn’t mind proving that with Patsy. But she didn’t like him much. There had been tension between them from the beginning.

He’d see what he could find out tomorrow about Victor White hiring someone to go after her. What good it would do White, Micah had no idea, for he was sure White was on death row. Right where the prick needed to be. White just wanted to prove a point was all Micah could think. Kill the woman who helped put him away.

He rolled over onto his back and clasped his hands behind his head. He’d find out who was doing White’s bidding from prison. It wouldn’t be too hard to figure out. The FBI had been keeping a close eye on White’s men. Just waiting for them to fuck up. Micah yawned, closed his eyes again, and wondered why Patsy had come to him .

****

Patsy tossed and turned until light filtered through the mini blinds. She opened one eye and peered toward the window. Did the man not own curtains? A row of three windows sat along one wall with only the blinds on them. Rubbing her eyes, she sat up and stretched then tossed the covers aside and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She tugged the T-shirt off over her head and placed it on the bed then pulled on her shirt and jeans, cocked her head, and listened. The house seemed quiet. After visiting the bathroom, she tiptoed to the door leading to the hall and slowly opened it to peer out. She didn’t hear anything, so she walked through the hallway and entered the living room. It was empty, so she headed into the kitchen and came to a halt when she saw Micah standing in the small breakfast nook, drinking coffee, and looking out the window. He had on black dress pants with a white shirt. A blue tie hung from around his neck, and a black shoulder holster completed his outfit.

“Good morning, Agent Turner,” she croaked then cleared her throat.

Micah turned his head to look at her, and her breath hitched.

“Don’t you think you should call me Micah? We are living together, after all.”

“You wish,” she muttered and felt the heat in her cheeks when he chuckled.

He had the most beautiful smile. Deep dimples appeared in his cheeks, and his teeth were white and perfect. Damn him.

Micah carried his cup to the sink and rinsed it then walked back to the table and lifted his jacket from the chair back. He put it on.

“I don’t know what time I’ll be home. I’d prefer you not go anywhere. Where’s your car?”

“Down the street.”

Micah nodded. “Give me your keys, and I’ll get it. I’ll back the Tahoe out first into the street and then pull your car in. Is your suitcase in the trunk?”

“Yes.”

She walked back to the room she’d slept in with Micah following her. After retrieving her keys, she handed them to him. “It’s the red Camaro with white stripes.”

“Okay. Just stay inside. I’ll be right back.”

He walked out and she followed as far as the dining room. She heard the garage door go up then watched as he backed a black Tahoe out of the garage. He parked it on the street and got out. She watched as he strode down the street to her car. A few minutes later, he drove her car into the garage and she heard the garage door close, then he entered the kitchen, set her suitcase on the floor, and her keys on the table.

“Make yourself at home.” After giving her a nod, he left again.

She quickly moved to the window in the dining room that faced the road in front of the house. As she watched him, he climbed into the Tahoe, started it, and with a glance at the house making her step back from the window, he pulled away disappearing down the road. Taking a deep breath, she walked to the kitchen and noticed he hadn’t closed the door leading to the garage so she walked to it to pull it closed and came to a stop when she saw the black Corvette sitting there. It figured that he’d have her dream car. She walked down the steps and headed for the car, stopping at the window to peer inside of the Vette. Shaking her head, she had to admit she was impressed as she climbed the steps and entered the small laundry room, and then stepped into the kitchen. Closing the door behind her, she picked up her suitcase and carried it to the bedroom and tossed it on the bed. She’d unpack later, coffee was first.

As she walked out of the bedroom, she glanced down the hallway. Two doors were open, one on each side of the hall. Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, she walked toward the doors and looked in. The door on the left, next to the room she was staying in, was filled with work out equipment. So that’s where that body came from…impressed again. Crossing the hall, she peered into the other room and saw a king size bed with a massive headboard centered on a wall. A dresser sat on the wall opposite the bed with a door next to it leading into a bathroom, and then a closet took up another wall. Another fifteen-pane entry door matching the one in the living room led to the same deck she’d used to access the house. She walked to it and looked out. There she saw a hot tub. It seemed to be calling her name. She could just picture Micah in it…naked. She shivered and blew out a breath.

This was such a mistake. He was way too hot to be around. She loved men and Agent Micah Turner was a huge turn-on, although she would never admit that to anyone. It was hard enough to admit it to herself.

Entering the bathroom, she moaned. She could still smell his aftershave. Spotting the bottle on the counter, she picked it up. After unscrewing the cap, she put it to her nose and sniffed. God! It smelled so good. She looked at the label to see a very expensive manufacturer of the musk product. She sniffed it one more time before putting the cap back on. Glancing around, she saw a huge, shiny black Jacuzzi tub. She’d love to get in that and spend some time. The sink and toilet were also black. The counter was black marble swirled with white. The tile floor matched the color scheme—very nice. She sighed and left the bathroom.

Once back in the kitchen, she made a cup of coffee in the K-cup machine then sat down in the living room. What now? The day was going to drag by with nothing to do. She hated hiding. She’d always been a fighter, but this was something she couldn’t fight on her own. She just hoped Micah could help her without being hurt or worse, in the process .