Shielded Hearts (Black Heart Security #3)

Chapter One

A spen Grace adjusted the leather messenger bag over her shoulder and slipped out of the big rusty pickup truck. As her designer high heels hit the gravel driveway, her ankle tilted sharply, threatening to launch her face toward the ground.

She quickly found a spot of level footing to stand on and threw a look back at the man who’d kindly offered to drive her. “Thank you for the ride…” She paused. He’d introduced himself as Big Mike, but she couldn’t bring herself to use that name.

He gave her a nod. Around the chewing tobacco stuffed in his bottom lip, he said, “Enjoy the weddin’.”

After she closed the door and got her bearings, she turned toward the expansive ranch house. The sprawling home seemed to have been added on to several times and was recently painted in a deep color that was nearly black, giving the country home a modern appeal.

A big lawn stretched toward several more impressive buildings, including a massive barn. Aspen looked around.

Music pulsed in the air, the strains of violin and acoustic guitar music drifting on the Wyoming breeze along with the low hum of voices.

Aspen’s heart sank. Well, this was terrible timing. It sounded like the wedding was about to start. Her plan of arriving at the Black Heart Ranch to personally hand-deliver the honeymoon portfolio to the newlyweds, Oaks and Shiloh Malone, quickly took a nosedive.

First, her plane left late. She thought owning a private jet would put an end to her days of following somebody else’s schedule, but she was wrong. Her crew came highly recommended and they had never let her down—until today, when she had a tight timeframe. She couldn’t imagine what caused them to be delayed, but she could only roll with it.

Then, she arrived in the teeny-tiny town of Willowbrook thinking that she’d have a rental car waiting, only to learn that she couldn’t rent a car in Willowbrook.

After talking to every single person working in the small hangar of the airport where she landed, she finally found someone who would give her a ride to the ranch. Big Mike’s truck smelled like exhaust and the seat looked like it had been smeared with motor oil weekly for the past decade, but it had gotten her here.

Late.

She adjusted the strap of her messenger bag again and plastered on her best wedding-crasher smile.

Hurrying forward, she tried not to twist her ankles on the uneven lawn. She hoped that the grime of the truck seat hadn’t left stains on her dress. Not only did she want to give the best first impression possible to the newlyweds, but the deep green was one of her favorite dresses to wear in the fall season.

She also hoped that she could track down the best man of the wedding before the wedding actually started.

The venue was set up on the lawn with pristine white chairs tied in blue bows that swished in the wind.

A thrill hit Aspen. It wasn’t easy finding the exact shade of blue for the honeymoon portfolio, but she’d done it.

Aspen’s personal goal was to always give her customers the best travel experience, from start to finish. In this case, a hand-delivered portfolio containing the itinerary and tied with a “skydiver blue” silk bow. The not-quite-navy hue wasn’t well-known and even rarer to find.

The music changed from gentle and beautiful to…Mendelssohn’s “Wedding March.”

Oh god. Not now . Was she that late?

She was.

She groaned and spun around to see the bridesmaids drifting toward her. Panic hit. Should she rush up the aisle in front of them or wait and slip in after the bride?

She darted to the side—hopefully out of sight—and waited respectfully as the first bridesmaid made her way up the aisle.

When the woman, dressed in a lovely shade of blue that complemented the color of the bows on the chairs, reached the big traditional white wooden arch, she took her place opposite the groomsmen.

Aspen felt her eyes widening. She’d been to plenty of celebrity events, rubbed elbows with models and actors. All very attractive, but these groomsmen were mouth-watering—tall and muscular with perfectly tailored tuxedos.

She glanced from the groom to his best man. The dark-haired man said something to the groom that made him chuckle, but the best man didn’t laugh with him. Instead, his attention fixed on something at the back of the venue.

Oh god. Was he narrowing his eyes at her ?

She gulped and felt the disturbance of someone passing by her. A second woman floating down the aisle in blue. Her blonde hair was teased by the light wind that seemed to have cooperated just for this day by giving the wedding party and guests a way to cool off against the warmth of the autumn sun.

To a crescendo of the music, the bride appeared. Glowing. Stunning. Shiloh looked like a model in a dress that stroked every curve.

Aspen felt a silly smile spread across her face. Weddings always made her cry.

The guests surged to their feet, twisting to watch the bride walk the short petal-strewn path to her groom. Aspen waited until she was certain she wouldn’t be spotted before quickly sliding into a seat in the back row.

She hated being late…but this had all worked out. Looking around, she noted just how small the wedding actually was. With such an extravagant honeymoon planned, Aspen had anticipated a wedding of around five hundred guests. But there couldn’t be more than fifty people here.

Much harder for her to blend in. At the first opportunity, she would hand over the portfolio to the best man for safekeeping and leave fast.

How was she getting back to the airport? Big Mike had dropped her off, leaving her no way of returning to her plane. She’d figure it out after the ceremony.

The notes of the wedding music faded away on a poignant wisp of the breeze, turning her attention to the special event taking place in front of her.

The ceremony was beautiful and touching. The groom totally choked up, which had the bride dabbing at her eyes with a small lace handkerchief one of the bridesmaids pushed into her hand.

Soon the happy couple was pronounced husband and wife. With a happy glow, they turned to the guests, the smiles on their faces unstoppable.

The groom let out a cowboy whoop that made the bride break into laughter and sent a ripple of amusement through the guests.

Quickly, the wedding party made their way down the aisle.

As the best man passed Aspen, he turned his head and gave her a hard stare.

Her stomach dipped. He didn’t look happy about her posing as one of the wedding guests, but she didn’t have much choice. She’d just have to get him alone and do what she’d come here to do.

Though she tried her hardest to stay at the back of the group of guests headed to the reception tent, she got pushed into the middle of the pack.

Before she knew it, she was moving through the receiving line.

The tall stunning bridesmaid with dark, gleaming hair offered her a welcoming smile as if Aspen belonged there. Next to her stunning beauty, Aspen stood about six inches shorter and felt like a schlump. But she smiled back and got ushered along.

Coming face-to-face with the man she’d been corresponding with over the past week to pull off the most romantic, amazing honeymoon ever, she gulped.

Colt Malone.

His stormy gray eyes landed on her face. “What are you doing? Why are you here?”

“Uh…I have your portfolio.”

Behind her, more people pushed close, urging her to keep moving. With no choice, she stepped up in front of the bride and groom.

Aspen slapped a smile back on her face. “Congratulations! What a beautiful ceremony.”

The bride shot a look at her groom, a question on her face. His broad shoulders rippled in a shrug as if to say that he didn’t have a clue who the hell Aspen was either.

“Thanks for coming.” The bride hugged her, followed by the groom.

Dazed, Aspen was shoved out of the receiving line into the group of people milling around the tent. The musicians had set up in the corner and were playing some light music to accompany the happy hour before dinner was served

Someone tapped her on the shoulder, and Aspen spun.

“Time for photos!” The dark-haired bombshell bridesmaid twitched her head for Aspen to follow.

She held up a hand, shaking her head.

“You have to get in the photos. Come on!”

Inwardly, she groaned as she forced herself to follow the group returning to the white arch for photos.

Before she could figure a way out of this mess, she was shoved into the group wedding photos.

Catching sight of her from the corner of his eye, Colt turned his head and looked straight at her.

She thought she saw him mouth: What the…

He moved positions, placing himself between her and another man, then pushed her to the end of the group. “Why exactly are you here again?”

“I have the honeymoon portfolio.”

“This could have been an email.”

As if she didn’t already feel awkward.

Her late mother’s words filtered into her mind. Don’t ever let anyone tell you that you don’t belong.

Aspen straightened her shoulders and smiled with the group when the photographer directed.

Luckily, the photos were finished quickly, and she was able to slip away. She caught up to Colt, who was striding away from everybody.

“Wait up!”

He stopped walking. For a moment, he didn’t turn to face her, making it clear that he was far from thrilled to be talking to her. Again.

Slowly, he spun.

Wow.

Controlling that big machine of a body must require a lot of skill.

He took a step toward her.

Trying not to appear flustered, she swung the bag off her shoulder and unzipped it. She pulled out the beautiful tan leatherbound portfolio tied in the perfect skydiver-blue ribbon and offered it to him.

“Ta-da! Here’s the portfolio.”

He stared at her for a beat before clasping the portfolio.

Aspen plucked a small stack of business cards from the interior pocket of the bag. “Here. Business cards. You can pass them out.”

He looked at her like she’d grown two heads, and neither of them were human. “You’ve gotta be joking.”

She stared up into his gray eyes. A deep, stormy gray like a shifting sky.

He snatched the cards out of her hand and crushed his fist around them. Without another word, he whirled and took off to the tent, leaving Aspen alone.

Stuck. With no ride.

* * * * *

Even though the crowd was small, it was still too big for Colt.

He cut a path around people standing in clusters with champagne flutes in hand to the head table. With a grind of his molars, he yanked out his chair and set the portfolio on the seat. Christ, he hated events. All events.

Family was challenging enough, but about fifty close friends of the Malone family and a few townspeople who’d been extended an invitation made the ranch feel crowded as hell.

Add in a nosy travel agent who’d stuck around way too long and Colt was ready to saddle up his horse and make a getaway into the mountains.

He couldn’t leave, though. His brother Oaks had asked him to be his best man, and that came with a sense of duty he could not shirk.

Dammit. Why hadn’t he seen it before now? Oaks asked him to be the best man instead of their oldest brother Carson for exactly this reason. And he fell for it! He couldn’t believe he’d been duped into performing all these stupid duties as best man.

As he pushed out a sigh, he felt the seams of his tux jacket stretch as if about to burst. Now that the photos were over, he could at least shuck the tuxedo jacket. Suits were always too tight across his shoulders and made him feel claustrophobic. He stripped off the coat and draped it over the back of his chair.

Sudden applause broke out as the newlyweds took the floor for their first dance as man and wife.

Colt walked straight to the bar and poured himself a whiskey. If Oaks required him to dance, he would need the bottle.

He tossed back the shot just as a familiar hoot sounded from the crowd. Without turning, he knew that sound came from his kid sister Willow.

Now, if anyone was in their element, it was Willow. People, fancy clothes and music. Three things that often got her in trouble with guys and usually sent any of her six brothers to hunt down her boyfriend-of-the-month and threaten to remove his front teeth in a variety of ways.

He scanned the crowd and saw Willow on the dance floor with the rest of the wedding party. Hell. Was he required to get out there now, before the alcohol even hit his system?

His brother Denver appeared at his side and bumped his shoulder against Colt’s.

Around the burn of the second shot of whiskey he tossed down his throat, Colt grunted. “Punk. Just because you’re back from the dead doesn’t mean a thing. You’re still my little brother.”

Denver was assigned to a SEAL team that was so deep ops nobody knew any of them were even alive. Including their families.

When Colt got the news that Denver was dead, he’d been gutted. He also had a lot of time on his hands—time to dig up information about Denver’s team. In the process of finding out exactly how his brother died, he discovered he wasn’t dead at all.

Denver tossed him a crooked grin. “Lighten up, best man. Get out there and bust a move.”

“Why don’t you go dance?”

Denver’s lips twitched at one corner. “It’s not required of me.”

At that moment, the travel agent started toward the bar. She saw Colt, turned around and headed back the way she came.

Dammit. He needed to get her out of here. Oaks and Shiloh deserved the best day, and that didn’t include offering the travel agent fish or beef.

With a low groan, he shot Denver a dirty look. “I’m going to dance.”

“Good luck, bro.” Denver grabbed the bottle that Colt had just poured from and brought it to his lips.

Colt made his way around a group of people gathered with drinks in hand, talking. He caught up to the travel agent and curled his hand around her shoulder.

She whipped around. When she saw it was him, she started to shake her head, but he grabbed her wrist and towed her onto the dance floor.

As soon as he placed a hand on her waist and felt her smooth skin slipping underneath that dress that was the color of pines on the mountain—and incidentally her eyes—he forced a sigh through his nostrils.

She blinked up at him in shock. “Wait—we’re dancing?”

“Well, you crashed my brother’s wedding and were even in all the group photos. Don’t you think that dancing is required?” He cocked a brow.

She let out a low sound like a moan. Over the music of what had to be the longest first dance in the history of weddings, he couldn’t be sure.

“I don’t dance with the brothers of my clients,” she said.

“Today you’re breaking that rule.”

“I liked it better when we were just emailing each other.”

“Do you deliver portfolios to all your clients?”

“No.” She tilted her jaw upward. “Only for premiere honeymoons.”

“Well as I said, this visit could have been another email when you sent me the honeymoon itinerary and tickets for my brother and his wife,” he bit off.

All of a sudden, the musicians ended the song, and music projected from the big speakers the deejay had set up in the opposite corner.

Oh fuck no. It was one of those group dances. Cupid Shuffle .

The travel agent’s eyes flared wide with panic.

“If I can’t get out of this, neither can you.” She kind of deserved it for sticking around so long when she wasn’t invited.

Colt took off across the floor, performing the steps that weren’t much different from line dancing. And he’d done plenty of that in honkytonks while in basic training. Back when he didn’t mind being part of society.

He grabbed his partner’s hand.

The travel agent dragged her feet and gave her head a wild shake. Dark, thick curls bounced on her shoulders. “I can’t do this dance!”

“If I’m doing it, you’re doing it. Come on.” He dragged her through several more steps. Turning his head, he pierced her in his stare. “I’m not one to mince words. Why are you still here?”

She fumbled through a few steps while watching other dancers around her so she could follow. “I don’t have a ride. Someone from town brought me to the ranch and dropped me off.”

Christ.

“I could have sent someone to meet you at the airport to get the portfolio. You didn’t have to come all the way out here.”

She shouted at him over the loud music. “I didn’t want to bother anyone.”

“Being an uninvited guest isn’t bothersome?”

Someone careened into him. Colt looked over to see his oldest brother Carson dancing like he had two left feet.

“Sorry, bro.” Carson looked past Colt at the travel agent. “Who’s your date? She’s cute.”

“She’s not my date. She’s the travel agent.”

The woman—what the hell was her name again? Aspen something. Grace. Aspen Grace. The name sounded made up to him.

She issued a huff of anger. “I’m not an agent. I’m a travel concierge!”

Colt leveled her with a what-the-fuck look.

She narrowed her green eyes in a glare and then spun on her high heels and stalked off the dance floor.

Good riddance.

Except she still didn’t have a way off the ranch.

He started after her, but Carson tapped him on the shoulder. “Time for the toast!”

Motherfucking hell. Could this best man gig get any worse?

The terrible dance ended, and the wedding party made their way to the head table. Shiloh was radiant after dancing, and Oaks was grinning from ear to ear. He’d never actually seen his brother so happy.

No pressure to deliver the best toast ever or anything.

Too bad he didn’t have anything prepared and would be winging it.

How hard could it be? As a Navy SEAL, he improvised on ops all the time. This should be easy.

He grabbed a flute of champagne and raised it in toast to the newlyweds and then faced the wedding guests.

His stare landed on Aspen positioned at the front of the crowd.

He arched a brow at her, and she gave him a wide-eyed go-fuck-yourself look as she held her own champagne flute aloft.

He ran his tongue over his lips. “Good evening, everyone. On behalf of Shiloh and Oaks Malone, I’d love to thank you for sharing this very special day. After all, how many times is Oaks going to get married? I mean…this was the second. To the same woman.”

Everyone laughed, including the bride and groom.

Colt barreled on, “In all seriousness, I’d like to thank Shiloh for giving our brother a new chance at life and happiness, proving that even stubborn guys can learn a thing or two.”

His gaze fell on Aspen again.

Damn, Carson was right. She was cute. Her dark hair was a perfect cloud of loose curls around her oval face, accentuating her angelic features.

What the hell was the matter with him? That whiskey must have been spiked with something harder. Two shots would not have him thinking about how a woman’s features looked otherwise.

Quickly, he lifted his glass higher. “Let’s raise a glass to these two: Shiloh and Oaks, who have shown us that love finds us in unexpected places. And hopefully, there’s no need for a third wedding.”

Everyone laughed at his joke. Colt barely got one sip of his champagne before the photographer was back, waving at everyone to smash together for a group picture.

Layne, Shiloh’s bridesmaid and Carson’s significant other, waved at Aspen. “Get in the picture!”

Oh Christ.

They were shuffled into a line still clutching their drinks.

Colt glanced down the line. Where the hell was Aspen? In most of the photos earlier, he managed to put her on the end, thinking he’d have a talk with the photographer and tell her to crop Aspen out.

But he was on the end.

Shit. She was between two people in the wedding party.

“Swap me places,” he said to Willow.

As he jostled everyone around like a Rubix cube, trying to position the unwanted guest at the end of the group, Willow touched Aspen’s arm. “I love your dress.”

She gave her a tense smile. “Thanks!”

Willow turned to Colt. “Your date is cute!”

“Not my date. Travel agent.”

“Travel concierge!” Aspen hissed to him as they swapped places. “And I need a ride!”

He stared down at her as they crossed paths to reach their new positions in the group photo. “Say no more. I can get you out of here.”