Wyoming Cowboy Bodyguard

He ran through a cold shower, got dressed, grabbed his computer and stepped out to find Daisy in the kitchen.

She was dressed in tight jeans and a neon-pink T-shirt that read Straight Shooter in sparkly sequins on the back. On the sleeve of each arm was a revolver outline in more sequins. When she turned from the oven where she was scrambling some eggs, she flashed a smile.

Her hair was pulled back to reveal bright green cactus earrings, and she’d put on makeup. Dark eyes, bright lips.

The fact she’d made herself up, looked like she could step on stage in the snap of her fingers, he assumed she was hiding a rough night under all that polish.

But the polish helped him pretend, too.

“Want some?” she asked, tipping the pan toward him.

“Sure, if you’ve got enough.” He dropped the laptop off on the table and then moved toward her to get plates, but she waved him away.

“You waited on me yesterday. My turn. Besides, I familiarized myself this morning. Thanks for making coffee, by the way. Good stuff.”

“Programmable machine,” he returned, not sure what to do with himself while she took care of breakfast. He opted for getting himself a cup of coffee.

He didn’t want to loom behind her, so he took a seat at the table and opened his laptop. He booted up his email to see if there were any more reports from Ranger Cooper, but nothing.

She slid a plate in front of him, then took the seat opposite him with her own plate.

“So, what’s the deal? Play house in here until they figure out who did it?” she asked with just a tad too much cheer in her voice—clearly trying to compensate for the edge she felt.

“Partially. We’re working on a protected outdoor area, but staying inside for now is best.” He tapped his computer. “It gives us time to work through who might be after you.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Believe it or not, sifting through who might hate me enough to hurt me isn’t high on my want-to-do list.”

“But I assume going home, getting back to your family and your career is. Lesser of two evils.”

She ate, frowning. But she didn’t try to argue, and he was going to do his job today. Nightmares and vulnerability couldn’t stop the job.

“I want to talk about your ex.”

“So does everyone,” she muttered.

“Your divorce was news?” he asked, even though he’d known it was. Much as he didn’t keep up with pop culture, he’d seen enough magazines at the checkout counter with her face and her ex’s.

“Yeah. I mean, maybe not if you don’t pay attention to country music, but Jordan had really started to make a name for himself with crossovers. So the story got big. And I got crucified.”

“Why didn’t he?” Zach asked casually, taking a bite of the eggs, which were perfectly cooked.

“Because he’s perfect?”

“You wanted to divorce him,” he pointed out. “He can’t be perfect. No one is.”

“Or that’s exactly why I wanted to divorce him.”

He studied her. The lifted chin, the challenge in her eyes. “Yeah, I don’t buy that.”

Her shoulders slumped. “Yeah, our families didn’t, either. Neither did he, for that matter. I don’t know how to explain... Do we really have to discuss my very public divorce?”

“Yeah. We really do. The more I understand, the better I can find the pattern.”

“And if it’s not him?”

“Then the pattern won’t say it is.”

“People aren’t patterns, Zach. They’re not always rational, or sane.”

“Yeah, I’m well aware, but routine stalkers are methodical. It’s not a moment of rage. It’s not knee-jerk or impulse. It’s planned terrorizing. Murder of your bodyguard? There was no struggle. It was planned. This person is methodical, which means if I can figure out their methodology, I can figure this out.”

She heaved out a sigh. “You believe that.”

“I know that.”

“Fine. Fine. Why did I file for divorce against Jordan? I don’t know. It’s complicated. It’s all emotions and... Did your parents love each other?”

Unconcerned with the abrupt change, because every thread led him somewhere, he nodded. “Very much.”

“Mine didn’t. Or maybe they did, but it was warped. It hurt.”

He thought about his brother, alone in a psych ward, still lost to whatever had taken a hold of his mind. “Love often does.”

“You got someone?”

“Not romantically.”

“Family, then?”

He nodded.

“I used to think loving my brother didn’t hurt, not even a little—not the way loving my father did, or even my mom. Vaughn was perfect, and always did the right thing. He protected me and loved me unconditionally. But this hurts, thinking he could be in danger because of me.”

“He’s a Texas Ranger.”

“That doesn’t make him invincible. He also has a wife and two little girls and...” She swallowed, looking away from him. “I can’t...”

“The best thing for ‘I can’t’ is figuring this out. Looking at the patterns, and finding who’s at the center.”

“You really think you can do that?”

“I do. With your help.”

She nodded. “Okay. Okay. Well, sit back and relax, cowboy. The story of Daisy Delaney and Jordan Jones is a long one.”

He lifted the coffee mug to his lips to try and hide his smile. “We’ve got nothing but time, Daisy.”

Chapter Four (#uc870f4cf-38a7-5ab8-929d-cd1e776c95e5)