Serving Trouble

by Sara Jane Stone

  The shotgun cut through the air. Travis held it steady, his dark eyes glistening with excitement. Noah knew that look. He’d witnessed it while deployed—­on both sides of the battle. Travis wanted to hurt.

  Don’t hurt Josie.

  “Take your shot, man,” Noah called. Keeping Travis’s attention on him—­that was the only element he could control. Everything else about this clusterfuck was out of his power.

  I’m not going to let you down, Josie. I’m going to keep my promise. I’ll keep you and the baby safe.

  He heard a soft gasp, but didn’t risk looking at Josie. One glance might draw Travis’s attention back to her. And yeah, he was close to counting his lucky stars that he’d sent Caroline up to the house after they’d hiked out to the hunting stand, hoping to find a clue. A paranoid marine wouldn’t add to this equation. Plus, he wanted her out of range. Josie too.

  Go to the door, Josie.

  He sensed movement, but he resisted the urge to steal a glance.

  “You have me, Travis,” he said, raising his hands palms up in a show of surrender.

  “Some war hero,” Travis said with a laugh.

  Beneath the sound of his voice, Noah heard the soft roar of a machine coming to life.

  What the hell are you doing, Josie? Why aren’t you running?

  “I’m not a hero,” Noah said, allowing some of the panic he felt to slip into his words. “Not even close.”

  I’m scared. So damn afraid of the things I can’t change.

  The bull spun on its axis. The horns whirled toward Travis, who’d chosen to remain at the machine’s side, probably using the old cushions to gain a few inches above Noah. But the power of the old bull was no match for Travis.

  The man who’d pushed Noah to the edge, who’d left him walking around so damn worried that he’d been ready and willing to push the woman he loved out of his life if it meant keeping her in one piece—­Travis fucking Taylor fell back on his ass and the gun went flying.

  God bless that bull.

  Noah raced forward and scooped the shotgun off the matt. And then he looked up at the woman manning the bull’s controls. No, he wasn’t the hero here. It was Josie.

  “What the hell were you thinking?” he demanded as he stood over Travis, the gun pointed down at the man who’d served up so much damn trouble.

  “I thought someone needed to jump in and save you,” Josie shot back. “And that someone had to be me.”

  Chapter Twenty-­Four

  NOAH WATCHED JOSIE scoop up a mewing fur ball outside his barn and head over to the porch steps. They’d pulled the kittens from the barn when the police showed up, led by Josie’s father, and declared it a crime scene. Now, they were waiting for the men in blue to wrap up.

  Movement diverted his gaze and he turned his head to witness the deputy escort a handcuffed Travis to a police cruiser. The car door slammed and he turned his attention back to Josie, who was now carrying two kittens and heading straight for him.

  He’d failed to keep her safe. The situation had gotten out of hand and she’d come to his rescue. Yeah, he was pretty sure he’d failed the hero test big-­time. Not that he’d wanted the label. Still, he wished he could have kept her far away from Travis’s gun.

  But Caroline was right. He needed to look at why he was hell-­bent on keeping her safe. Because Josie had made it pretty damn clear she didn’t need someone rushing to her rescue. Yeah, she’d told him as much this morning. But there was nothing like watching the woman he loved defeat an armed madman to drive the point home.

  The woman I love. It’s about time I tell her.

  “You know what you forgot to say back there?” Josie said, coming to a halt in front of him.

  “Thank you?” he said mildly, cocking his head as he looked up at her.

  “You can do better than that.” She claimed a space beside him on the porch step.

  “Thank you for saving my ass,” he said.

  “You’re welcome. But as much fun as that was, I’ll be happy if no one ever points a gun at me again in that barn,” Josie said, settling the purring kittens onto her lap.

  Noah reached over and took her hand. “I’ll make damn sure of it.”

  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she said softly. “You can’t post a sign outside saying ‘No Crazy Gun-­Wielding ­People Allowed.’ Especially with Caroline living here.”

  “I’m hoping she might relax now that we have proof it wasn’t Dustin after her.”

  “Where is she?” Josie asked, glancing back at the house.

  “Josh came by and picked her up while you were giving your statement. I called and asked him, thinking it would be best if she wasn’t here right now. Too many cops and she’s still on edge.”

  “She’s not the only one,” Josie murmured. “My stomach is still doing flips from the sight of Travis holding a shotgun.”

  He turned and looked right at her. “You can relax now. You took out the bad guy. You were incredible, using the bull like that.”

  “Now that you have proof that you don’t need to keep me safe, if anything I should be the one looking out for you,” she said, speaking quickly as her green eyes stared into his. “Now that’s off the table, Noah, I need to know—­”

  “That I lied to you earlier,” he cut in. “I told you that keeping you safe . . . I said that was all I had to give, but I lied.”

  “A jerk and liar,” she murmured. “Not a great combination.”

  “I’m nowhere close to perfect. Trust me, I know that. But I also know that I love you, Josephine Fairmore.” He released her hand. “I want you to save me from trouble—­real or imagined—­every chance you get for as long as you’ll have me.”

  I LOVE YOU, Josephine Fairmore.

  Driving over here, facing her crazy, gun-­wielding ex—­it had all been worth it to hear those words. She could have done without the showdown in the barn, but still, it was worth it.

  “Forever. This time, I’m going to keep you forever. We’re keeping you forever.” She placed her hand on her belly, and Noah glanced down. “I can’t promise we won’t bring trouble to your barn door again.”

  “We can take on trouble.” He raised his gaze to her lips. “Anything beyond my control, I know you’ll handle.” His palms cupping her cheeks, he leaned close and pressed his lips to hers. One sweet, heated kiss before he drew back. “I’m not walking away from you again, Josie. No matter what happens, I’m going to stay by your side, loving you.”

  Josie closed her eyes and rested her forehead against his. Life had handed her one barrier after another. Unexpected pregnancy. Preterm labor. The loss of her baby. A second unplanned pregnancy . . . She hadn’t felt strong in a long time.

  Until now.

  She’d risked her heart, opened herself up to love again, and this time she’d found happiness. Sure, she’d had to fight for it. But she’d won. Now, she was stronger, happier, and wildly, madly in love.

  “I love you, Noah.” She leaned back and took his hand, placing it over her still-­flat stomach. “And whatever the future brings, I know we can face it together.”

  Epilogue

  JOSIE CRADLED THE sleeping infant in her arms. She was small, born at just thirty-­four weeks, but healthy.

  Perfect. She’s absolutely perfect.

  “Can’t stop staring?”

  She glanced up from her little girl to the man leaning against the doorway, holding a pair of steaming to-­go cups. Noah had rushed her to the hospital after her water broke and stayed by her side, holding her hand while she screamed from the torturous mix of pain and panic.

  Over and over she’d told him she couldn’t do this. And he’d told her that he loved her and that he believed in her. She’d seen the fear in his eyes, for her, for the baby. But he’d stayed and fought through it with her.

  And h
er baby—­their daughter—­was born.

  “Is that coffee?” she whispered, not wanting to wake the baby.

  “Hot chocolate for you,” he said, stepping into the room. “I wasn’t sure if you could have caffeine.”

  “Thanks,” she said, nodding to the nightstand beside her hospital bed. He walked in and set one of the cups down. He looked down at their child and smiled. There was so much love in his eyes . . .

  Oh God, she was going to cry from the potent mix of exhaustion, hormones, and emotion.

  “Did you call Dominic?” she said.

  He nodded and his expression turned serious. “I did. He should be coming home soon. It sounds like the rehab facility plans to release him next week.”

  “He’ll get to meet his niece.” She glanced down at the sleeping baby, then back up at Noah. “Worried he’ll take a swing at you for getting me pregnant?”

  “No,” Noah said, brushing a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll let him throw a punch or two if he wants. Because falling for you? Getting you pregnant?” He leaned over their sleeping baby and gently kissed her. “Worth it.”

  “She’s perfect, isn’t she?” Josie said as he straightened. “I was worried . . . she wasn’t as early, but still.”

  “You were amazing, Josie. I know you were scared, but you did it. You were so strong. Hell, half the time I was certain you didn’t need me.”

  “Just your love,” she said softly.

  The baby stirred in her arms and she glanced down. But her perfect little girl was sound asleep.

  “Josie.” She looked up and saw the smile she remembered from five years ago on his face. “I’m going to love you forever. And our little girl too.”

  A barn, a mechanical bull, his best friend’s off-­limits sister,

  and an oh-­so-­bad-­it’s-­good idea.

  If you missed it, here, in its entirety, is

  RUNNING WILD

  the prequel that kicked it all off for Noah and Josie!

  Chapter One

  June 2012

  NOAH TAGER SWERVED and avoided burying his pickup in the big blue mailbox on the sidewalk. Thank you, Jesus. He threw his truck into park and cut the engine. The street sign on the far side of the mailbox read “No Standing.” But leaving his dad with a parking ticket beat a totaled truck. And he had a feeling Forever’s Finest, the police force that patrolled the Oregon college town, would forget all about the ticket when he called for their help.

  Chief Fairmore? I saw Travis Taylor lead your daughter into the alley beside The Three Sisters Café where he tried to introduce his palm to Josie’s face. Not his fist. No, the asshole went for the open-­handed slap.

  Through the windshield, he’d seen Josie Fairmore pull her hand free from her soon-­to-­be ex-­boyfriend and block the slap. Noah had been too busy trying not to hit the mailbox to see if Travis had tried again.

  But Chief Fairmore wouldn’t give a damn if his little girl’s boyfriend failed to connect with his target. And her brother? Dominic would jump at the chance to have a physical “conversation” with the asshole who had helped Josie earn her reputation as the town bad girl. Although he knew she wasn’t as “bad” as certain gossips led everyone to believe. Just a little wild.

  Noah slammed the door to his truck and ran down the sidewalk toward the alley. Oh hell yeah, he was ready and willing to fight alongside the Fairmore men. Starting right now in the alley.

  But a cloud of gloom and doom followed, hovering over his head. It rained questions as he reached the gap between the two-­story historic buildings.

  Was this the first time? Had Travis tried this before? Why the hell had Josie stayed with Travis’s sorry ass after the incident during the homecoming parade? After Travis had allowed the blame to fall on her shoulders?

  Noah ground his teeth together. He’d talked Dominic out of throwing a punch—­or ten—­after Forever’s gossip-­prone triplets, the owners of The Three Sisters Café, had stumbled upon Travis and Josie in the back of the hay wagon. It was bad enough everyone would be talking about the fact that Travis, the quarterback and hero of the hour, had been caught with Josie’s black silk panties in one hand. Beating the younger kid up would only add fuel to the gossip mill, Noah had told his friend.

  Plus it wasn’t a fair fight. Travis was just a kid. Eighteen. And without his offensive line, Travis didn’t stand a chance.

  But now Noah wished he’d kept his mouth shut and thrown a punch or two back then himself. He wouldn’t hesitate to use his fists today.

  He rounded the corner and spotted Josie.

  But Travis was gone.

  Goddamn coward.

  Noah froze on the edge of the pavement, one step short of entering the narrow, gravel-­covered space between the two buildings. Josie stood with her back pressed against the cement wall, her head held high and her eyes open. He had banished the words “Dominic’s sister is freaking hot” from his vocabulary not long after Josie started high school. But he wasn’t blind. She possessed the kind of beauty that dared men to look away. Her long legs and curved hips could have walked her straight into a modeling career.

  Except small-­town Oregon wasn’t exactly bustling with scouts looking for the next cover girl. And even if someone saw her and offered her a contract, it would probably be a one-­way ticket to the cover of Sports Illustrated’s swimsuit issue.

  He’d witnessed Josie in a barely there bikini once. Yeah, he’d silently thanked the genius that had invented the two-­piece swimsuit. Then he’d spent the rest of the pool party staring at his feet or talking to his friends—­anything but looking at Josie Fairmore long enough to want what he could never have.

  Right now, in the alley, it wasn’t her curves, barely hidden by her fitted spaghetti-­strap tank top and jean cutoff shorts that stunned him. He’d left his truck planning to pull Travis off her. He’d expected to find her radiating fear. Travis had failed to lead his team to the state championship, but as quarterback that guy was still big. The threat of a slap from a man that size would inspire some serious terror.

  But eighteen-­year-­old Josie Fairmore wasn’t cowering and calling for help. She stood with her feet planted hip-­width apart, arms at her side, and stared straight ahead. Her body language screamed don’t mess with me.

  He studied the red mark on her left cheek. Travis Taylor hadn’t received the message.

  When I get my hands on him. . .

  Even though she appeared calm and in control, her palms pressed against her outer thighs, the rise and fall of her chest betrayed her. His best friend’s little sister was five seconds away from hyperventilating in the alley.

  “Josie,” he said. The gravel crunched beneath his cowboy boots as he stepped toward her.

  She turned to him, her dark eyes widening. And there it was—­the fear—­piercing, sharp, and directed at him.

  Oh no, Josie, no. Discovery is not your enemy here.

  “Hey, Noah.” She forced a smile. Her voice was low and rough, bordering on sultry. Or maybe that was his imagination. “Any chance we could pretend you didn’t see me today?”

  “No.” His tone a helluva lot sharper than he intended. “I have to be honest, Josie. I’m seconds away from speed-­dialing your dad at the station, followed by your brother.”

  Her smile vanished, leaving behind a mask of worry. “Calling the cops because I snuck out on a Saturday afternoon? I don’t think they can arrest me for not listening to my dad. I’ve been grounded for the past three weekends. I had to get out.”

  Snuck out?

  And what the hell was up with her raspy voice? Was she trying to charm him into pretending he hadn’t nearly crashed his truck when he spotted her?

  “I saw Travis.” He struggled to keep his tone level and kind. The last thing she needed was another big guy offering hostility. Sure, it had been four years since Noah had traded
his quarterback jersey for a job at his dad’s struggling country western bar, but he still had the strength and height to hurl the ball a lot farther than the damn kid who’d hit her.

  I’m going to fucking kill Travis Taylor.

  It was one thing to suspect, to nearly hit a mailbox hoping he was seeing things or that he’d get there in time to stop the asshole from raising his arm a second time. But to see the proof on Josie’s face? Noah would hunt the town’s hero of the hour down and make him hurt. Shit, he’d probably land his ass in jail for his trouble. And earn a dishonorable discharge before he even set foot in basic training.

  Was that even possible? Could the marines kick him out before he arrived? Would going after Travis wipe away his chance to earn the steady paycheck his family needed to stay afloat?

  “He’s kind of the reason I slipped out of the house,” she said, raising her right hand to her neck. “I needed to talk to him. We’re going to different schools in the fall. I thought it would be better if we ended things now. He’ll be here and I’ll be in Portland.”

  “You’re breaking up with Travis because of the distance?” This time he couldn’t keep the heavy dose of what the fuck out of his voice. Portland was only an hour, maybe two with traffic, from the Willamette Valley.

  “That was my plan,” she murmured.

  “Just because he didn’t want to break up, that doesn’t give him the right to—­”

  “I know,” she said sharply, her hand still rubbing her neck.

  His gaze narrowed, studying the way her long black hair fell over her shoulders. Her pale skin offered a stark contrast to her dark locks. Except around her neck. The area beneath her fingers appeared red. He had to look hard to see it. But a series of scratch marks stood out against the creamy white skin. As if she’d been trying to tear something away from her neck—­or someone. Like the person who’d left behind those angry red marks.

  “Ah hell, Josie.” He moved closer and drew her into his arms. At first it was like hugging a two-­by-­four length of wood. But gradually, she relaxed and wrapped her arms around him. And he just held her, not trusting himself to speak. If he opened his mouth now words like “I’m going to make sure no one ever hurts you again” would tumble out. But he couldn’t make that promise. He couldn’t stay by her side, ready and willing to save the day. His dad and grandmother were depending on him to show up at basic training and go wherever the hell the marines needed him.