Preacher (Montana Bounty Hunters: Dead Horse, MT Book 2)

by Delilah Devlin

  By the time Laura flipped the sign and unlocked the front door to foot traffic, the display counter was filled with pastries, and Fig had finished the installation. She and Laura headed to the office to upload the software to connect the sensors and the cameras.

  Katie busied herself measuring out coffee and starting the machines. When she turned back to him, a washrag in her hand, she cleared her throat. “So, you and Laura…?”

  How she’d decided there was something going on when Laura had pretty much ignored him while she worked, he didn’t have a clue. “I’m just here to make sure she’s safe.”

  “Yeah.” Katie’s mouth pressed into straight line. “That’s why she’s blushing and walking a little funny today.”

  Preacher’s eyebrows shot straight up. His own face heated at her coarse words.

  “I only work the mornings,” she said, “but I heard all about what you did yesterday.”

  Hopefully, not everything. “I stopped in for lunch. Anyone would have stuck around to help after that rock was thrown.”

  One eyebrow rose. “Yeah, maybe.” Her gaze went to the boarded-up window. “Edna at the hardware store said you bought the plywood for the window. And now, you’re here with your friend to install alarms… Seems like you’re taking a personal interest.”

  He cleared his throat. “Just being neighborly.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “So, you’re one of those bounty hunters.”

  Preacher shifted on his feet. The woman was sure a nosy thing. “I am.”

  “Catch anyone I’d have heard of?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Were you part of the crew that busted Barney Whitcomb?”

  “I was hired right after that bust.”

  “Nasty piece of work, that.”

  He wasn’t sure if she was talking about Barney and his survivalist buddies or the raid on his compound, so he just nodded.

  At that moment, the office door opened, and the sounds of Fig and Laura talking as they approached had Kate glancing their way.

  Preacher drew a deep breath. The woman would’ve made a fine criminal interrogator.

  Fig glanced at Preacher. “We have a meeting to get to.”

  Preacher frowned and glanced at Laura. He didn’t feel comfortable leaving her alone.

  She shook her head. “You have work. I have work. And now, thanks to Fig here, I have a nice little button under my cash register that will alert the sheriff, if I need help. Go.”

  Preacher glanced at Fig who gave him a wink.

  “I’ll see you there,” she said. “Remember, I like the bear claws.”

  Laura moved behind the counter, pulled out four boxes from under the counter, then began filling them with donuts. “Mixed, right? And kolaches?”

  He nodded.

  She glanced at Katie. “And would you mind getting him a cup of medium roast, black?”

  “Sure thing, boss,” Katie said, and moved away to pour a cup.

  Laura slid the boxes across the counter. “Here you go.”

  “Aren’t you going to ring me up?”

  She rolled her eyes. “After everything you and Fig did for me? Forget it.”

  He leaned over the counter, intending to give her a quick kiss, but the bell above the entrance of the shop chimed. He closed his eyes for a second then gave her a wry smile. “I’ll see you later. If anything happens, big or small, call me.”

  She gave him a solemn nod. “I will. Later.”

  As he left, balancing the boxes and his coffee, he mused that a lot had changed in twenty-four hours. Yesterday, he’d been cussing himself for stumbling all over his dick. Today, he felt more confident that he was in a good place; that he hadn’t managed to make any mistakes where she was concerned. And look where he’d spent the night. If he’d managed to get through last night’s date with a kiss goodnight, he would’ve been more than satisfied. That he’d held her in his arms and knew what it felt like to sink all his inches deep inside her felt like a miracle. Like he’d won the Preakness, the Superbowl, and the Stanley Cup, all rolled up in one.

  That good feeling lasted all the way to the office. He was whistling when he strode inside the trailer carrying the donuts.

  “Yeehaw, I think our boy got laid.”

  Chapter 7

  Preacher nearly stumbled, and the stacked boxes tilted and began to slide away. Marti grabbed for the save and swung the boxes toward the table.

  Lacey took them and chuckled as she set them down. “Marti! You know these guys don’t like to talk about their sex lives.”

  Marti smirked as she plucked a kolache from one of the boxes and took her seat. She patted the empty folding chair beside her. “Preacher and I are tight. He knows all about my guy. It’s only fair he spills the beans on his new squeeze.”

  “I liked you better when you didn’t like talking,” Preacher muttered. Still, he sat beside her and reached for a napkin and a honey-glazed apple fritter.

  “Jesus Christ,” Cage said glaring at both women who were still grinning ear to ear.

  “It’s all my fault, Bud,” Fig said. “I told them the two of you looked starry-eyed every time you passed each other. Plus, you both pulled up in your vehicles at the same time in front of the shop.” She shrugged when Preacher gave her an evil, sideways glance.

  “We were not starry-eyed. That’s ridiculous.”

  “And you didn’t want to give her a kiss before you left? Sure looked like you were leaning in…”

  He’d had no idea she’d stuck around long enough to witness that.

  Lacey and Marti chortled. “Damn, wish I could have seen that,” Lacey said, then drummed the table. “Another one bites the dust,” she sang.

  Preacher huffed breath. “I was just sticking close to make sure she was safe.”

  Marti elbowed him in the side. “There’s close and there’s—”

  “Are we finished?” Cage asked. “Seriously. We have assignments to make, and I have two interviews with prospective hires today.”

  “And you have to make it out of the office in time to go to Elaine’s OB appointment this afternoon,” Lacey said then licked her fingertips.

  “Both new prospects are male, right, boss?” Dagger said, his tone hopeful.

  “They are,” Cage said, his tone even. Then he crossed his arms over his chest. “Fig, let’s review the list.”

  Fig slid her fingertips over the tablet in front of her.

  “Any high value targets?” Cage asked.

  “One. Frank Ludlow. Twice convicted felon out of Bozeman. Skipped his court date where he was supposed to stand trial for battery and attempted murder. Two-hundred-thousand-dollar bail.” She turned her tablet to show a picture of the guy. He had small beady eyes, pockmarked skin, a large hook nose, and a strip of hair maybe an inch and a half long on top of his bald head, looking like he was trying to grow a mohawk.

  “We got anything on him? Have we reached out to any of his family or friends?”

  She nodded. “I spoke with his sister. Linda Cameron has a vacation home near Yellowstone that’ll be forfeited if he isn’t brought in on time. She’s motivated to help find him. Gave me a list of what she called his ‘low-life friends’ for us to check out.”

  “Where are they?”

  “Bozeman and Pine Creek.”

  “So, both close. Lacey and Dagger, split the list with Marti and Preacher.” He turned to Preacher. “Or do you still need to stick close to Dead Horse?”

  There was no note of irritation or censure in Cage’s voice when he asked the question. Preacher rubbed the back of his neck. “I’d like to stick close enough that if Laura needs anything…”

  Cage nodded. “Fig, you got anything local?”

  “A handful of meth heads who missed their piss tests.”

  Cage shook his head. “That’s all we got. That keep you busy enough, or do you need some time off?”

  Piss tests wouldn’t bring in the big bucks like finding Ludlow would, but he was still too new to
the agency to completely blow off work. “I’ll take the drug tests. And I’ll work with Laura to harden the security around her to make sure she stays safe. If no other problems pop up, I’ll head back into the field.”

  “Don’t worry about your job here, man,” Cage said. “You take care of business. If you need the time off, just send me a text.” He winked at Marti. “I’ll tag along with you, if you don’t mind. I can interview my prospects after we get back.”

  “Don’t let her talk your ear off,” Preacher quipped, then cupped a hand against his ribs before her elbow gave him a hard dig.

  * * *

  Laura and Katie served a steady procession of locals throughout the day. Folks she never saw more than once a month all seemed to be in desperate need of donuts, and rather than taking their sweets and leaving, they all wanted to linger at the tables. Everyone commiserated over the boarded-up window, and then, inevitably, the conversation turned to her new “bodyguard.”

  “Preacher’s not my bodyguard,” she told Rhonda from the package store.

  Rhonda gave her a sly look. “How fortunate was it that he was here when it happened? I mean, if it had happened to me when I was working at Dem Bones, I’d want to have someone like that around.”

  Laura moved past her to reach for a plate and coffee cup another customer had left on a table. “I was very fortunate. He knew exactly what to do.”

  “I bet he did.”

  From her sly tone, Rhonda wasn’t talking about the new security system or the plywood Preacher had installed for her. Laura rolled her eyes and leaned toward her persistent friend. “Yes, he’s good-looking and in amazing shape, and yes, he knows exactly what to do with it,” she whispered harshly.

  A throat cleared behind her, and she slowly straightened.

  Rhonda chuckled and pushed up from her seat. “See you later, hon. Looks like you have your hands full.”

  A finger tapped her shoulder. “Ignoring me won’t make me go away,” Preacher whispered beside her ear.

  “I’m just waiting until the floor swallows me whole.”

  “Bet you are. I’ve felt that way more than once in this place. Should have someone look at your foundation.” And then he chuckled.

  Laura leaned back for just a second, touching his chest. “Guess you heard all that.”

  “Every word. Rhonda winked at me before she started in.”

  “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “I was waiting to hear what you’d say. Glad to know you appreciate my amazing shape.”

  She turned and pushed against his shoulder. “It’s not nice to tease me. You already know I’m mortified.”

  “Careful,” he said, his eyes dancing with glee. “We still have an audience.”

  She gave him a rueful smile and carried the dirty dishes to the counter. Once behind it, she asked, “Can I get you something?”

  “Just coffee. I wrapped up work early. I thought I’d come by and check in on you.”

  Katie’s hand reached past her with a ceramic mug filled with steaming coffee. “Go take a break,” Katie said. “You’ve been on your feet all day.”

  “So have you, and you’re working later than usual.”

  Her assistant held up a hand sideways to hide her mouth. “I don’t have him waiting to spend time with me.”

  Shaking her head, Laura removed her apron, grabbed a bottle of water, then followed him to an empty table. Laura was very aware of all the interested gazes that followed their progress across the floor. And it felt kind of nice to be the one who was being gossiped about. She’d never done anything worthy of attention. At least, not until last night…

  * * *

  Preacher hoped Laura wasn’t worried about all the attention they were getting from the good folks of Dead Horse. He set his mug on the table then held out Laura’s chair and scooted it forward as she sat. After she was settled, he moved around the table to take his own seat. At least they could talk about his good manners.

  “Looks like you’re pretty busy today,” he said after taking a sip from his cup.

  “Rubberneckers,” she said quietly. “And now that you’re here, I’ll have to pry them from their tables. You’ve been on everyone’s lips today.”

  Preacher leaned over the table. “I’ve only been on your lips, sweetheart.”

  A blush flooded her cheeks with heat. “Stop.”

  The bell above the door chimed, and Laura glanced toward the doorway. Bob Updike entered, squinted at the counter then frowned. Katie pointed toward where Laura was sitting. “Looks like this break’s going to be short,” she said.

  “Katie can handle him.”

  “Bob’s been very kind to me since I moved in. He assembled shelves and helped move in the new walk-in fridge when it was delivered.”

  Preacher studied Bob as he walked toward them, combing his thin dark hair with his fingers. Perhaps because of his short stature, Preacher hadn’t considered Bob as any threat to Laura. Or maybe it was the seemingly genuine concern the man had shown when Preacher had purchased his plywood. Still, it had been very convenient for the man to insert himself into Laura’s sphere when she’d needed help. He made a mental note to ask Fig to do a background check on good ol’ Bob.

  Bob offered Preacher a tight smile. “Good to see you again.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder toward the window. “See you got the measurements right.”

  Preacher nodded. “I appreciate your help yesterday.”

  “Yes,” Laura said, starting to rise. Preacher’s hand reached under the table and pushed her back down. “Um, yes, thanks for your help yesterday. It’s been a crazy couple of days.”

  Bob’s gaze went from Laura to Preacher then back. “Well, I’ll just get a coffee from Katie. Nice to see you two.”

  When he walked away, Laura pushed Preacher’s hand from her thigh. “What was that about? Were you peeing on me?”

  Preacher’s mouth twitched. “That wasn’t me peeing on you, sweetheart. But it’s interesting that’s where your mind went. I was just looking to make sure Bob understands how things are.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “He’s sweet on you.”

  “What?” She shook her head. “He is not. I’m almost one hundred percent sure he and Edna have a thing.”

  “Edna with the bowl haircut? No way.”

  “You’re not jealous, are you?”

  “Of course not. I just wonder whether he still thinks he has a chance.” Preacher leaned closer. “Think about it. Every time your shop was vandalized, who did you have to go to for help fixing things up?”

  Laura crossed her arms over her ample chest. “What you say makes sense, but you don’t know Bob. He’s a very nice man. Very giving. He supports the high school’s booster club and hosts the Angel Tree at Christmas. Last year, he donated wood to repair a house for a couple whose home burned halfway down. I think you need to look elsewhere.”

  Preacher’s mouth firmed at her starchy tone, but he gave her a nod. “You know him better than I do.” However, he was still having Fig dig around Bob’s record. He gave her a small smile. “Did we just have our first fight?”

  “You call that a fight?” When he smiled, she huffed a breath and uncrossed her arms. “If we ever have a fight, your ears will bleed. I get loud.”

  “You?” He laughed. “I just can’t picture it.”

  She gave a firm nod. “Barry Nordstrom claimed that his ears rang for a week after he pushed me off the monkey bars.”

  “You fight often, then?”

  A grin stretched her mouth. “Nope. I’m pretty even-tempered. Pretty boring actually.”

  “Well, it’s a good thing I like boring.”

  Her eyebrows lowered.

  He held up his hand. “I was kidding. If you need a reminder, last night I was the one doing the shouting.”

  “Shhh,” she said, her cheeks turning pink. Then she bit the corner of her mouth. “I think I need to check on something in my office.”

/>   “You do? Right now?”

  “Yeah, and I might need your help getting something off a very high shelf…”

  Preacher’s cock stirred at the rosy color filling her cheeks. Getting her meaning, he sat straighter in his chair. “Can’t have you falling off some ladder when I could help you out. I’m here to serve and protect.”

  She cleared her throat. “Wait a minute or two. Then meet me at the back door,” she whispered then stood and walked around the counter. She paused beside Katie, leaned close to her, then moved again, heading down the short hallway to her office.

  Preacher pretended nonchalance, stretching his arms above his head then shooting to his feet. He grabbed the mug and walked to the counter to hand it to Katie. “Thanks for the coffee.”

  “Oh, I think you’ll be thanking me for so much more,” she said and winked.

  He left the shop and walked toward his vehicle, all the while glancing out of the corner of his eye to see whether anyone was about. When the coast was clear, he turned the corner into the alley and made his way around the building. The back door opened, and he ran up the steps.

  When he closed it, she was already at her office door. He hurried behind her, gripped her hips and pushed her faster inside the room then turned to twist the lock on the handle.

  When he faced her again, she was already pulling her pink T-shirt over her head. “Anyone see you?” she asked, her words muffled by the fabric.

  “Nah. Remember, I can conduct a stealthy operation.” He unbuckled his belt then thumbed open the button on his jeans.

  Laura tossed her shirt away then unclasped her bra. The tips of her large round breasts were already hard. He liked how dark they were against her paler pink areolas, like the perfect centers of twin targets. His mouth watered as he slid down his zipper. He grimaced as the hard metal scratched at his dick. Quickly, he pushed down his jeans, just far enough to free his cock. He quickly drew his wallet from his back pocket, slid out a condom, and wrapped himself. No way was he coming out of her until they were done.