Cassie’s
Cowboy Crave
Witness Protection – Rancher Style
Sweet Montana Bride Series
Book One
KIMBERLY KREY
Copyright © 2013 Kimberly Krey
All Rights Reserved
Amazon Kindle Edition, License Notes
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This ebook is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
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DEDICATION
To my smokin’ hot man:
Without your loving support, I wouldn’t be able to write the stories in my head; thank you!
Note to Reader:
There’s no telling what makes a book come to life for each author. For me, the characters come first, explaining their story – present, past, and future. With the Sweet Montana Bride Series, Shane and Cassie spoke up first, so I started with them. Shane’s older brothers, ever-loyal Blake and rebellious Gavin, have wonderful stories of their own. Their novels, though they take place before Shane’s, will be released in the opposite order. Thank you for purchasing Cassie’s Cowboy Crave; hope you enjoy the read!
EXCERPT
“It’s a sacrifice for you,” Cassie said, “to spend this time away from your ranch. All to come get me, work out this whole marriage charade so it looks like we’re having a decent honeymoon, when in reality you haven’t even kissed the bride.”
Cassie’s words dangled in the air like an invitation, warm and welcome. He couldn’t likely bring her home without a simple kiss, now, could he?
The dim glow of the muted TV played across her face like a reflection of dancing flames from a bonfire. The heat of it licked at his skin as he got to his knees.
Perhaps a lone hotel room wasn’t the smartest place for a first kiss, but there was no stopping the inertia that drew his hands to the warm curve of her hips.
When their eyes met, Shane tilted his head, asking for permission with the lift of his brow.
She nodded slightly – a silent response – yet the best thing he’d heard in weeks – Yes.
CHAPTER ONE
Shane Emerson stormed up the front porch, undeterred by the dog barking on the other side of the door. “Shut up, Jack,” he muttered before pounding on the screen. He paced impatiently while waiting for an answer.
The patio light flicked on.
A set of blinds pried open from the bedroom. Shane peered at the gaping spot, daring whoever stood on the other side to just try and ignore him. The gap in the blinds snapped shut while Jack barked some more.
No one was coming, and Shane’s nerves were wearing thinner with each breath.
“Open the door, Blake. Now!” He spun in place, looking for something to hit. It wouldn’t be as good as decking his pompous older brother, but he’d take the next best thing.
And there it was – Blake’s favorite pair of cowboy boots; the ones he claimed help score him that eight-second ride on Big Blue.
Shane reared back and gave the pair a good, hard kick. They flew across the wood-slatted porch, the heel of one boot landing in Jack’s water dish. Too bad it wasn’t a pile of crap. “Reese?” he hollered this time.
Adrenaline rushed through him so hard it hurt. No doubt he could break the glass of the screen door with his fist. A good part of him was tempted to do just that. Who cared if he had to pay for it later?
Just as his fist wound back, ready to pound through the sheet of reflective glass, the front room window glowed to life. The white, paneled door creaked open behind the screen.
“Shane, wait.” Coward brother of his sent his wife? What a wuss.
Reese tightened her robe and waved him in. “Come on inside and settle down,” she said, unlocking the screen door.
“I don’t want to come in there.” He squinted against the light. “I want Blake to get out here so I can kick his....”
“Watch it!” Blake warned coming up behind her. “That’s my wife you’re talking to.”
Shane glared at him. “Why’d you guys sign me up to shelter some … woman?”
Reese’s face brightened. “They have one?”
“One that might be sitting at that airport a long, long time, thanks to you guys.”
Reese’s hand flew over her mouth. “You wouldn’t.”
“I would,” he spat, knowing it wasn’t the truth. “I never signed up for this. Just because it worked for you guys, doesn’t mean it’ll work for me. Or this … stranger who’s had her life stripped away from her in a matter of hours.” He shook his head, burdened by the mere thought of it all. “I’m not Blake. I’m not Gavin, either.”
He turned away from the couple at the doorway and looked over the wide space of land, lit only by the full moon hanging low in the dark, Montana sky. It wasn’t that he minded the idea of a warm body next to his. But city women were too risky. Heck, he couldn’t even trust that the ones raised in the country would stay. “I’m not cut out for this type of thing.”
His brother stepped up behind him, nudging his shoulder. “It’s just a woman who needs some protection, Shane.”
“Yeah, probably some … weird cat lady.”
His brother chuckled. “Cat lady? Where’d that come from?”
Shane shook his head, not in the mood to answer.
“Where’s she from?” his brother prodded.
Shane straightened his posture. “Seattle. And she has multiple cats. That’s freaky. I mean, they thought Reese was a guy. What if they think this woman’s in her twenties and she’s really like.. fifty?”
“You’re over thinking this, little brother. Stop with the what ifs and go get the woman. Don’t leave her for someone else to rescue. What if Reese had gone somewhere else?”
This gal almost had gone someplace else. Truth was, the only thing that compelled Shane to agree with it was the fact that two other locations had already fallen through. Now they were desperate.
He groaned in frustration. “I’m not up to it, Blake. And seriously, who’s to say this chick ain’t some psycho? You got lucky with Reese.”
“And Gavin?”
“Same.” Lucky bastards. Shane didn’t want the women in his brothers’ lives. But he did want what they had. He just wasn’t sure how to get it. “The Emerson men have pressed their luck enough. Well’s gotta run dry at some point. It’s not wort
h taking on some total stranger.”
Blake chuckled. “She won’t be a stranger for long.”
Shane released a deep breath as he checked the time on his phone. The ranch was a good four and a half hours from the airport. He’d have to leave soon if he wanted to make it in time.
“Here’s a list of things you’ll need.”
Blake’s outstretched arm rested on his shoulder. In his hand, a crumpled square of paper caught the yellowed light of the porch.
Shane snatched the list from him and shoved his arm away. “Should have told me you signed me up.”
“You knew we were going to, man. A bet’s a bet. ‘Sides, she could be the one.” His brother’s voice rose as he added, “I’ll make sure things run smooth while you’re gone. We’ll have her room ready and everything.”
He didn’t reply. Just strode back to his truck, kicking stray rocks along the way, and fired up the engine. Even as he revved the thing, Shane could hear his brother holler from the porch, “And don’t touch my lucky boots again or I’ll crush your face in the dirt.”
Shane laughed under his breath. Blake might have been able to make good on that ten years ago. But now those words were nothing more than an empty threat.
Though his brother was right about one thing: A bet was a bet. Still, that didn’t mean he had to keep up his end of it.
CHAPTER TWO
Eight hours earlier –
The guy at the corner table caught Cassie’s eye for a second time. Not in that how-about-we-get-to-know-each other way. More like the way she’d keep track of a black widow crawling on a distant wall. There was something about him that creeped her out, she just wasn’t sure what it was.
The man raised a newspaper between their gaze. Hopefully that would prevent further distraction.
“I seriously thought I was going to wring Nancy’s little neck today,” Zoe said, swirling the ice in her cup. She propped her dark-rimmed glasses with one straightened finger.
Cassie chuckled. “Nancy was on one.” She recalled her own incident at work with the bossy little thing. “She’s probably just going through a hard time.”
“Yeah. Permanently.” Zoe rested her elbows on the table, prepping for story-mode. “So it’s ten minutes to deadline, I’m just finishing final edits on the hometown article, and all she can do is stand over my shoulder and whine about how Mr. Warner needs the article five minutes ago. Like anyone could make deadline with her voice in the room.”
The waiter set an extra drink next to Cassie’s. “Another cherry lemonade for you, Miss?” The man’s voice made him sound younger than he appeared.
“Thanks.” Cassie noted her first glass was still half-full. Kid must be saving up for college.
“Jasper?” Zoe hinted, lifting her cup. It was empty save the tinted ice and thick, black straw.
“Of course, ma’am. Iced tea?”
Zoe nodded, annoyance plain on her square-shaped face. Yet as he took the glass from her hand, she fluttered her lashes at him.
“And you, Miss?” The young man turned his attention to Ann, who didn’t bother looking up from her romance novel.
“Uh-huh. Diet Coke,” she muttered.
“How do you do that?” Cassie asked once the waiter left.
Ann lifted her chin to glance at her. “Do what?”
“Be in two worlds at once.”
She shrugged, eyes drifting back to her page. “Easy.”
“What I want to know,” Zoe said, a hint of fresh irritation in her tone, “is why guys his age call women in their early twenties Ma’am and Miss? He’s probably only a few years younger than we are.”
A smile crossed over Cassie’s mouth. “What else is he supposed to call us?”
“I don’t know. Anything. Ma’am makes me feel old.”
“We are old,” Ann said.
“Twenty-five isn’t old,” Zoe spat.
Cassie sipped at her icy drink, forcing her mind away from newspaper guy and the dark chill creeping under her skin at his presence. “There was this kid on the jury with me who was just old enough to serve,” she said. “He had gauges in his ears, wore black nail polish all the time. I felt kind of old next to him. At first, anyway.”
“You little cougar, you,” Zoe said. “You never told me you had the hots for a guy on the jury.”
“That’s because I didn’t have the hots for him. But he was hilarious. One time he made me laugh so hard I spit orange juice onto the break room table.”
“Gross,” Ann muttered without looking up.
“I kind of miss some of those guys,” Cassie said. She’d spent the better part of six months with the group of jurors; many she’d really come to care for.
“You think this guy’s eighteen?” Zoe asked, her voice sounding hopeful.
“Our waiter? Yeah.”
Zoe’s face lit up. “You know, I’ve been wanting to date a younger guy. And this one is cute.”
“Eighteen is way too young,” Cassie said. “Even for me and I’m younger than you.”
“Only by a year,” Zoe said. “And he could be nineteen. Or even a young-looking twenty. Anyway, he’s been hitting on you this whole time, so he must not think he’s too young.”
Cassie pulled in a genuine gasp. “He has not.”
“Leave it to the youngster to hit on Snow White. The only one too sweet and innocent to even notice.”
“Whatever.” Cassie shook her head in disbelief. “I’m not sweet or innocent and I don’t look like Snow White.”
“You look exactly like her.” Zoe turned to Ann for back-up. “Doesn’t she look like Snow White?”
“Totally. Only with longer hair and a lower voice, thank heavens.”
“Before I forget,” Zoe said, “my mother is already talking about Easter. I know it’s still over a month away, but she wanted me to tell you you’re invited to come.”
“You’re invited to my place too,” Ann said.
Zoe planted one hand firmly on the table. “No way. It’s my turn. I can’t do another Easter egg hunt in the Seattle drizzle without you there to keep me sane. Besides, who will appreciate my sarcasm?” When Cassie stayed quiet, Zoe added, “There will be tons of food….”
Ann clamped her book shut, holding her place with one finger. “But my mom cooks better.”
Cassie glanced at both girls. She was beginning to feel like a charity case.
Zoe gave Ann a feigned glare. “Well we hire a caterer. What’s better than that?”
Silence owned the table while Cassie thought of something that sounded much better than both offers. A family of her own. A place to go for the holidays that included more familiar nieces and nephews, perhaps her own children too. A spark of resentment flared up as she considered Griffin and his extended absence. A spark that seemed to die out as she sipped on her cold drink. The way it always did.
“Hey, Ann,” Zoe whispered from across the table. “What about our waiter. Don’t you think he’s good-looking?”
“Not really,” Ann muttered.
“You haven’t even looked at him yet,” Zoe protested.
“I can tell by the voice,” Ann said. She was back in her novel already. “I like it low, smooth, and sexy, like Cowboy Conner’s voice.” She licked her lips, eyes raking over the page as if there were visuals included.
“Give me that thing.” Cassie reached across the table.
A frown crinkled Ann’s face as she held firm to the book.
“Come on. I’m not going to hurt it,” Cassie said. “I just want to see what all the fuss is about.”
Reluctantly, her friend handed over the battered book. A man’s bare chest took up the entire cover, save the cowboy hat and lasso dangling in the corner. Cassie fanned its yellowed pages, the soft edges tickling her thumb. It smelled like a library – the initial whiff of something bitter, followed by the scent lingering in every book there – dusty, sweet, and full of possibilities. “How many times have you read this?”
Ann’s shrug
told her it’d been too many times to count.
“What is it about this one you like so much?”
Ann smiled like she’d just walked into her favorite clothing store. “Everything about Conner is perfect. And he’s a real cowboy who works on an actual ranch. Not the wannabes on all the stupid dating sites.”
Cassie bit at her lip, nodding toward the view out the large bay window. Deep clouds of grey hovered close to the nearly colorless water. “We’re in Seattle, Ann. Probably aren’t a whole lot of ranches in the city.”
Ann threw her head back dramatically. “I know, I know. Don’t remind me.”
“I can’t get into the whole cowboy thing,” Cassie said.
Ann’s eyes got wide and pleading. “Cass, you’ve managed to find good traits in the likes of Nancy The Nag. You’ve got to see what I mean about the rough and tough, totally masculine yet sensitive-when-he-needs-to-be cowboy.”
“I’d take a cowboy,” Zoe said. “If he looked anything like him.” She angled her head toward newspaper guy. “Seems like he agrees with our waiter though. Only has eyes for Snow White.”
Cassie straightened in her seat, stunned by the confirmation. It wasn’t just in her head; this guy was looking at her. She leaned onto the round table, brought her voice to a whisper. “I’m actually kind of freaked out by that guy,” she said. “There’s something familiar about him, I swear. It’s like…” And then it hit her. Cold and hard like a rod of ice through her chest. “The case,” she breathed. “He looks like one of them.”
“One of the Lawson brothers?” Ann hissed.
Cassie leaned further onto the table. “Shhh. I don’t want him to hear.”
Zoe glanced over again and gasped. “Holy… He does look like one of those guys.”
A rash of unwanted images flashed through Cassie’s mind. Mangled bodies atop bloodied sheets. A crimson-stained axe wrapped in plastic. The man who’d been put behind bars for life thanks to her and the rest of the jury. And the faces of the others awaiting trials of their own.
Cassie's Cowboy Crave: Witness Protection - Rancher Style (Sweet Montana Bride Series) Page 1