Chapter Eleven

C arson gave the screwdriver a few more hard twists, securing the new security camera to the fence. He aimed it at the side of the house to cover the previous dead zone.

"Just fucking try to get near those windows without me seeing you." He pocketed the tool and stepped backward, into the camera's view. Then he checked the app to ensure he was visible.

Setting off in a brisk walk, he moved from the far left to the far right. After that, he checked that he was on the recording.

That did the trick. Nobody was getting past him ever again.

Not that he and Layne planned to remain at Golden Horizon for much longer. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that this guy wasn't going to back down. He was going to keep targeting Layne—and now him too. He was just cocky enough not to know how afraid he should be of Carson.

When he suggested that he and Layne should go to Lake Como, he was as serious as a member of the explosives team defusing a bomb.

As soon as he could arrange the details of the flight and their stay, they were out of here. The bullet casing on his windowsill was a warning, but those thorned rose stems had fucked with his head far too much. Over his dead body was he allowing anyone to get close to Layne after that.

He walked the fence line and did a sweep of the barn. All clear. As he circled back to the house once again, his phone vibrated in his pocket. Mounting the porch steps, he drew it out and leaned against the post to answer the call.

He looked out over the land. The grass was tipped in gold, painted by the sun. Now he could see what attracted Layne to that landscape hanging on her office wall. The rolling fields and the deep blue of the sky were nearly exact replicas of the scene before him.

"Took ya long enough," he said without preamble to his brother.

"What's up, Carson? Besides you being a demanding dickhead?" Oaks's insult didn't come with even a hint of animosity. Though his brothers liked to set boundaries, Oaks wasn't setting one now.

"You know me. I like being the dickhead of the family."

Oaks gave a low chuckle, tinged with exhaustion. "While you're in there getting the hot babe, I've been running around to find the things you need."

He let the comment about Layne slide. "What did you find out?"

"The lab tested the threatening note. Speaking of babes—Kyleigh who works at the lab is smokin'. For a lab rat, I mean. I bet that white coat she wears hides a bangin' body."

He pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting for patience. "Oaks. The note."

He went on as if he didn't just have an outburst. "Willow is still working on finding the producer. The lab has the paper sample and they're even analyzing the ink used to print it."

" Fuck. I can't risk him making any other moves to kidnap her. I've been considering taking Layne far away from here. Now I'm certain I will."

For a moment, his brother fell silent. "I hoped it wouldn't come to this. I'll help in any way you need."

"I need the jet readied. We're going to Italy."

"Damn. Okay. I'll speak to the pilot after I get off the phone. But before I go, I just got a notification from the security app that a new camera has been installed."

"I just finished installing it. Layne and I won't be here, but that doesn't mean I won't be keeping an eye on every inch of this ranch. After you speak to the pilot, I'm going to need an escort to the airstrip."

"I already figured you would."

"And since Colt is back, he's going to come fetch Faye, the Londons' housekeeper, and take her to the Black Heart. She can stay at the ranch. I want Colt here keeping an eye on things."

"I'll brief him on it."

Having four other brothers in the military was helpful when it came to working together. They already had the lingo down and there was never any question as to rank or duties. When it came to the security company, everyone took orders from Carson. Period.

"I'll see that it's all done. Look for my text with the departure info for your flight."

"Thanks, man. I want this motherfucker. When you find him, you're going to hold him for me."

"Hold him" could mean a lot of things, none of which were lost on Oaks.

"Understood. And another thing."

"What's that?"

"When do I tell Willow to start planning the wedding?"

Carson snorted to dispel the hot, tight sensation in his chest. The past divebombed him. In one of those letters, he'd actually proposed to Layne.

And she never replied.

He'd toiled on with a few more weeks' worth of letters, but that had been the beginning of the end for him. He'd given up on a "them."

Now he had her back in his life, and she still loved him. If a woman confessed her feelings when a man was balls-deep inside her, she meant it. At least where Carson was concerned.

"I'll keep you posted, brother. Before you go, I'd like you to text me the name of the company that makes the paper that threatening note was printed on. I'm going to do some digging on my own about where it was purchased."

"You got it. Talk soon."

They ended the call. Not for the first time, he took a moment to feel grateful that he had his siblings. After all their asshole father had done to try to break their family, he and his brothers and sister managed to hold it together and thrive .

Not that they each didn't bear their share of scars from a tough upbringing. Hell, his scars were almost as deep as the ones he carried from his time as a prisoner of war. He woke with nightmares about his father's terrible treatment almost as often as he woke in a cold sweat from one of his torture dreams.

As he pushed away from the porch support, he looked to the window, half expecting to see the curtain swish back into place after he caught Layne peeking out.

Only she wasn't. She was too afraid.

Fresh anger washed over him in a wave. Nobody should ever be afraid to walk freely on their land or look out the window. She came to Wyoming to experience nature and soak in those views she missed in the city.

When Carson got his hands on the man terrorizing her, he was going to make sure he never frightened Layne or any other person again.

He didn't start this war, but he was damn well going to end it.

Once he got inside the house, he secured the door behind him and looked around the space. Layne's jackets and shoes were neatly stowed away in the closet, giving no indication that she was even here.

The scent of lemony floor cleaner filled his nose. Faye must have gone on another of her cleaning sprees, scrubbing things that weren't dirty just because she was extra conscientious—or maybe going stir-crazy from being stuck inside too.

Faye would be safe on the ranch with his family. They'd see to it that she got some rest, and if he knew Willow, she would be pampering the older woman like her favorite aunt too.

He moved toward the study. The past few times he went in search of Layne, he found her with his old letters.

Part of him hated that she was looking backward. He was worried about her reading that proposal that was the beginning of the end. Eventually she'd reach the final letter he'd ever written and be just as devastated as he was when he wrote it.

He stopped in the open door. She wasn't there, but the stacks were getting shorter and the pile of letters she'd read was taller.

He couldn't let her read the rest. As time moved on, his words grew harsher until he wasn't even writing her out of love anymore, but out of spite. To prove that he still gave a damn even if she'd stopped.

On impulse, he grabbed the trash can. It was completely empty after Faye's cleaning spree.

Pausing only a heartbeat, he swept the entire mass of letters off the desk into the trash.

Standing back, he breathed hard. What had he done? Spared her from more pain.

He took the can to the guest room and hid it in the closet.

When he moved back to the kitchen, he found Faye sitting at the island, sipping a glass of sweet tea and watching a cooking show on the TV mounted on the wall.

Hearing him enter, she turned. "Carson. Everything okay?"

Better now; he was sure of it.

"Fine. Just looking for Layne."

"I think she's in her room. She said she wanted to lie down."

Concern pinched his brows together. That wasn't like Layne at all. The girl he'd known had all the energy in the world just ready to explode out of her. How many times had she practically worn him out with her horseback rides through the mountains at sunrise followed by laps in the pool and bonfires at night?

"Thanks, Faye." He took off in long strides toward Layne's room.

When he left her in the study, she hadn't seemed tired in the least. In fact, between putting back on the garments he'd stripped off her, she'd lunged at him with passionate kisses.

His cock gave a twitch at the memory of that up-against-the-wall sex. Besides the mind-bending moments of pleasure, one thing stood out to him.

The minute she told him that she loved him.

He knocked on her closed door, relieved when she answered with a soft, "Come in."

As he pushed open the door, he held his breath, anticipating seeing the woman he'd never really worked out of his system.

And was rewarded when he found her in bed without a stitch of clothes on.

* * * * *

Carson's chest heaved as he closed the door. His quiet footfalls on the floor sent shivers racing up and down Layne's bare spine.

He came to a stop beside the bed, gaze fixed on hers. "Want some company?" His tone was hoarse, gritty.

"I thought you'd never ask." She let her thighs fall open. The cool stroke of air over her pussy turned her on even more, along with the fact that he couldn't tear his eyes away from the spot where she wanted him most.

With a growl, he ripped off his shirt. A flick of his wrist and he tossed it aside. "What have you been thinking about to put you in this mood, doll?"

"You." She gave a languorous stretch, enjoying the gleam of lust that hit his eyes.

His forearms, roped with sinew and veins, tensed as he unbuttoned his jeans and dropped them. His black boxer-briefs molded to his ripped body.

"God, your body is amazing." She reached out to brush her fingertips over his rippling abs. The warm steel seemed to shock her with electricity. Her fingers tingled.

He swept his stare over her bare breasts, lower to her abs, lingering on her pussy before moving down her legs.

"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

Eagerly, she sat up and inched to the edge of the bed. Grasping his hips, she drew him a step closer. He cradled her head, watching her every move.

"I'm going to taste you." She swiped her tongue over her bottom lip in anticipation.

He growled.

Slowly, she slid her fingers into the elastic of his boxer-briefs and pushed them down, down, down that chiseled body.

His stiff cock popped free, purple with need. The head was shiny and almost throbbing.

Feeling his crisp leg hair against her fingers spiked her desire. But when she took his cock in hand and gave it a slow jack, they shared a groan.

"You've never—Fuck! Layne!"

She took him into her mouth, sucking him to the root. The scent of man and fresh soap filtered into her head. His noises of bliss mingled with them. And the salty taste of the precum that coated her tongue had her nipples crying out to be pinched.

Her pussy aching to be licked.

"Hell!" He cupped her head with both hands, fingers twisting in her hair. The slight sting on her scalp sent her higher until she grew dizzy from delivering pleasure to this man.

Her man.

She planned to own him the same way he owned her when he licked her pussy, fucked her and pinned her against walls.

That last letter she'd read from a younger, just as virile Carson had made her crazy to have him again and again.

She wasn't letting him leave her bed—not tonight. Not ever, if she could help it.

Digging her fingers into his ass, she dragged him close. His cock rode along the roof of her mouth and sank into her throat. She gulped around it, taking it in a swallow.

"Jesus—Fuck!" His stare latched on to hers. He couldn't look away from her for even a moment as she sucked him to an enormous, body-shaking release.

Spurt after spurt hit her tongue. She swallowed what she could and then pulled off to stroke him to completion, the last drops of his cum hitting her breasts.

He hung forward, panting, unable to speak. He didn't need to. She had it under control.

Taking his hands, she put them on her sides, guiding him down onto the mattress with her.

Hooking her calves around his back, she looked him in the eyes. "I want you. Like this. No barriers."

His eyes glittered with understanding. "You're sure?"

She kissed him in answer. The tangle of their tongues took them from desire to passion and back to tenderness. At the moment he entered her, he pulled back sharply.

"I taste the salt of your tears, doll."

"They're happy tears. Because I found you again." She pulled him back into her arms.

They rolled until she was straddling him, in the driver's seat once again. In the relationship of the past, they were always on even ground. When he became her bodyguard, her protector, he was at the wheel. This moment placed them on even turf again.

Layne and Carson. Carson and Layne.

Whatever happened after this, she was willing to fight for—and fight hard. She was older, smarter, more determined to get what she wanted.

She wanted her Navy SEAL, the love of her life.

Carson.

She pushed onto her knees, dragging his cock through her heated walls. The feel of every ridge from base to tip sent pleasure sparking through her body.

The pressures built inside her had her right on the edge. Tossing her head, she rode him, taking what she wanted. Needed.

When her inner walls clamped on his length, she bucked hard and fast. He clutched her hips to guide her while rocking upward.

Her release struck with a swiftness that knocked the breath out of her. She cried out Carson's name in a strangled voice. Juices flooded him. Her body trembled with each contraction of bliss.

After what felt like endless minutes later, she collapsed on top of his chest, panting to catch her breath.

His strong arms enveloped her, and she drifted on a haze of pleasure. A soft vibrating noise came from the floor in the vicinity of his abandoned jeans.

"You'd better get that." She didn't lift her head from his chest to allow him to move.

He rumbled in amusement and tenderly rolled her off his body. She sprawled out as he leaned over, snaking out a long arm to grab the phone.

After skimming the text, he hovered over her, staring into her eyes.

"What is it?" She smoothed her thumb over his jaw that always seemed to be in a stubbled state.

"The jet is being readied for our flight. You need to pack."