Chapter Seven #2
When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing hard. His forehead rested against hers, and she could feel the tension in his body, the careful control he was maintaining.
“I should go.” She made no move to leave.
“You should.” But his hands were still framing her face, his thumbs tracing along her cheekbones.
“I have work to do.”
“I’m sure you do.”
“Carson’s probably wondering where I am.”
“Probably.”
Neither of them moved. The air between them was thick with want and the promise of things that couldn’t happen. Not here, not now, not with so much at stake.
Finally, she forced herself to step sideways, breaking free of the cage of his arms. “I really do have to go.”
“I know.”
She moved toward the door on unsteady legs, hyperaware of him tracking her every movement, her body screaming for her to turn around and run back into his arms. When she reached the threshold, she turned back to find him watching her with an expression that made her pulse race.
“I forgot to tell you—the whole team’s going to the Rusty Spur tonight to celebrate you coming on board.”
He nodded. “I’ll be there.”
She started to leave again but paused. “And Decker?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t avoid me anymore. Please.”
He was quiet for a long moment, and she could see the internal struggle playing out across his features. Finally, he nodded.
It wasn’t a promise, but it was enough. For now.
* * * * *
The beer bottles rattled on the table from the thump of bass music. Since it was the middle of the week and not a busy Friday night, only two older couples were performing a line dance that had Decker’s own foot tapping to the beat.
Slanting a look at his new team, he brought his bottle to his lips. Being here like this, it was impossible not to think of his SEAL brothers-in-arms.
Damn, he missed those guys. But when he walked away, he always knew he wouldn’t keep in touch. They’d watched the cracks form in him, growing wider and wider until he was no good to any of them and he was too humiliated to try.
He vowed that wouldn’t happen again.
Carson and Oaks were as silent and still as sentries at a castle gate, their gazes constantly scanning the nearby dance floor.
Colt bobbed his head to the music, and Gray leaned back in his chair, arms folded as if daring someone to fuck with him, while Denver smiled at some text he received, probably from his soon-to-be wife.
They didn’t know if Theo would make it back from his overnighter with Juliette, who had given a violin performance to a packed house.
Last, there was Willow. The only female from the family here.
Judging by the way her brothers were watching every guy who watched Willow, Decker believed their reason for this celebration wasn’t just him joining. They were trying to draw out the person who had been sending her gifts.
They already determined that the guy who knifed Decker had left the ranch where he worked, and Wyoming too. Didn’t mean he couldn’t send the gifts, but they didn’t think so.
Willow watched the dancers, perched on the edge of her seat as if prepared to leap up and join them.
A slow song came on, which gave Carson the chance to be heard over the music. He set his bottle aside and eyed the group.
“We’re here to celebrate our new member.”
Everyone raised their drinks to Decker, and he dipped his head in gratitude.
“We’ve also got business to discuss,” Carson said. “We’re close to landing a big contract.”
Denver rested his elbows on the table. “How big?”
“It’s possible that all of us will be involved, maybe for one to two months.
Corporate protection detail for a tech CEO who’s been getting threats about a merger.
The client wants a full team stationed at his estate in Northern California while the deal goes through.
” Carson’s expression grew serious. “The money’s good enough to fund ranch operations for the next year, but it means most of us would be off-site for an extended period. ”
Colt whistled low. “When would this take place?”
“Could be as soon as this week. Could be months. They’re still in negotiations. The threats could fade or escalate. We’re on call.”
“California for two months? What about the therapy program?” Colt was pretty involved with the vets and kept the operation running smooth.
“That’s the challenge. We’d have to lean harder on the guys in the program to keep the ranch in good shape.”
“I’ll oversee them,” Willow offered.
She had enough on her plate without taking on such a big job, but Decker didn’t say that.
Carson looked around the table. “We’ll figure out the particulars if we take the contract. It’s a big decision, but it could propel Black Heart Security to the next level.”
Willow leaned forward. “Hopefully after the baby’s born? This is a bad time for you to leave, Carson.”
He compressed his lips, looking as if the weight of choosing between work and family was a lot to shoulder. “We’ll see how it lands for timing.”
Before Carson could continue detailing the California contract, a shadow fell across their table. Decker looked up to see some guy standing there with a beer in one hand and a cocky grin that immediately set his teeth on edge.
“Willow Malone.” The stranger’s voice carried a drawl that spoke of familiarity, of shared history that Decker didn’t like one damn bit.
“You must hardly leave the ranch these days. I haven’t seen you around Willowbrook in months.”
Every muscle in Decker’s body coiled tight. Around the table, he could feel the Malone brothers shifting—Carson’s hand moving closer to his beer bottle, Denver’s casual posture sharpening into something more predatory.
But Decker was laser-focused on the man who was looking at Willow like he had every right to be there.
“Hi, Andy, how are you?” Willow’s voice sounded carefully neutral.
Andy. So they had history. The knowledge settled like acid in Decker’s gut.
“Can’t complain. I’m running my dad’s construction business now.” Andy took a step closer, and Decker’s hands curled into fists under the table. The bastard was either completely oblivious to the wall of hostility radiating from seven trained operators, or he was too stupid to care.
He looked Willow over. “You look amazing, by the way. Always did know how to turn heads.”
Decker agreed, but he was going to wring this bastard’s neck if he got any closer to her.
The casual familiarity in his tone, the way his eyes lingered on Willow’s face—it all scraped against Decker’s nerves like steel on concrete. His jaw started to ache from clenching his teeth.
Suddenly, Willow issued a gasp. She leaped to her feet. “Felicity’s here!” She skirted around Andy and rushed away without a backward glance.
Decker leaned forward to fix his stare on Andy. One by one, each of her brothers did the same, until the guy got the hint. He sliced his fingers through his hair and turned to leave.
Decker shifted his attention to Willow. She was breezing across the room in the sure strides of a model on a catwalk.
Problem was, three guys at a table she passed, a solo drinker in the corner and four other dudes at the bar craned around to watch her.
She stepped right up to Felicity and hugged her. Then she embraced the two older ladies who worked in the bookshop and a gal from the coffeeshop down the street.
Together, they drifted to a table and settled in to chat.
“Looks like we’ve been abandoned for the book club,” Gray drawled out.
Without looking away from Willow, Decker closed his fingers around his beer and brought it to his lips.
“Seems like Decker’s done this a time or two.”
He grunted, but the sound was drowned by the clink of beer glasses and chatter. “Told you I’ve been watching out for Willow for a while.”
Carson brought the talk back to business, and he kept his ears on the conversation and his stare on Willow, who was enjoying five-dollar margarita pitcher night with the ladies.
The bar filled up, and more than one guy made a beeline for the prettiest flower in the room. Willow.
With every new person who spoke to their sister, conversation between the Malones slowed until it stopped altogether.
“Who the hell are all these people? I spent as many summers in Willowbrook as she did, and I don’t recognize more than a handful.” Oaks shook his head.
“We were all stationed around the world. Willow stayed,” Denver noted.
“And everybody loves her.”
It was true—Willow was the darling of the whole town, always ready with a cheerful smile or a kind word.
She was two margaritas deep by the time she and the ladies took to the dance floor. As soon as her cute little cowgirl boots hit the floor, she was surrounded by guys. Young, old, didn’t matter. They all flocked to her.
Decker started out of his seat, and Carson put out a hand to stop him. “Where are you going?”
“Better view of the dance floor against the wall.”
“Sit down.”
He met his boss’s stare, torn. If he disobeyed his first order, he’d be off the team before he ever got started—and he wanted the backing of Black Heart Security.
But if anybody touched her again…
He tightened his lips and dropped back into his chair. Carson gave him a nod and slid a fresh beer his way. Decker gripped the bottle but didn’t drink.
After two fast songs, Willow and Felicity took a breather. The waitress delivered two drinks to them.
“Someone’s buying them drinks now,” Decker ground out.
“Don’t worry—we trust the bartender. The drinks are safe,” Oaks said.
“She should switch to soda.”
Oaks snorted in agreement.
Willow was flushed from dancing and, in Decker’s opinion, sipped the drink too fast to quench her thirst. But her brothers didn’t seem at all concerned about her alcohol consumption.
Willow got up to dance again, swaying her perfect hips side to side, her long hair whirling in an arc as she spun.
Suddenly, a guy in jeans, boots and a ball cap started dancing up on her. Decker pushed away from the table, but a hand came down on his shoulder.
“We’re trying to get a bead on who’s around her,” Carson said.
He pushed a hot breath through his nose and sat glaring at the guy getting far too close to Willow.
“Colt. That the guy?” Carson asked.
He lowered his beer. “Yeah, that’s him.”
Him. Good-looking in a way that bothered Decker more than it fucking should.
What did Willow say? She went for good-looking men.
When the guy reached for Willow’s hips, she danced out of reach.
“Who the hell is this guy?” Decker demanded.
“Works at the trucking company. He’s been after Willow for a few months,” Oaks responded. “Did you warn him off her, Colt?”
“I asked his intentions and he didn’t have any answer, so I encouraged him to look elsewhere.”
“Bastard didn’t get the memo.” Decker set his beer down with a hard clunk.
The guy hooked an arm around her middle and tugged her toward him. Willow’s hand landed on his chest to push him away.
Oaks’s chair scraped back as he shot to his feet. “I’m not watching this play out.”
When her brother hit the dance floor, he had no intention of showing off his moves. He stepped up behind his kid sister and glowered at the guy.
He released Willow and backed off, skulking away to his barstool. Willow turned to Oaks, but Decker couldn’t see her face.
“Think she’s gonna slap him for interfering?” Colt asked.
Suddenly, she threw her arms around her brother.
In that instant, Decker realized that this was what her brothers did—they chased away every guy who got near their sister.
Every guy except him.
Carson caught them kissing, and nobody warned him off her.
They didn’t mind Decker going along on errands…protecting her. But how much would they tolerate before they stepped in like they always did?
A loud clatter sounded as somebody banged into a table. A chair flipped.
The entire Black Heart Security team was on their feet in a blink, moving toward the fistfight on the dance floor.
Decker’s spine locked. Felicity and Willow were right in the middle of it.
“I had the next dance with the blonde!” A cowboy shoved another, who took a wild swing.
Decker caught Carson’s nod and moved. In a heartbeat he had Felicity by the arm, steering her toward the exit while his other hand locked firmly around Willow. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of movement—an arm cocked back, a beer bottle clutched like a weapon.
Rage detonated in his chest. Only one thought pounded through him: protect.
He shoved the women clear and pivoted, his hand snapping to the man’s throat. With a surge of raw strength, he slammed him into the wall.