Chapter Three

T he noise of the vase falling over and then rolling shoved Livia's heart into her throat and out her nose.

She hated admitting that Wolfe was right about someone coming after her.

Gripping the counter so hard that the edge bit into her fingers, she stared at his retreating back. She should go after him. After all, this was her house.

She kept a weapon in her nightstand drawer, but to reach her bedroom, she needed to walk through the living room. She pictured armed men engaged in hand-to-hand combat with Wolfe.

Of course, the huge man would win. He hadn't informed her that he was a Navy SEAL, but he being friends with Colton and Hunter meant that he likely was.

Counting to three, she braced herself to make a run for her weapon. She pushed off and dodged into the living room just in time to see Wolfe swiping at a big white ball of fur.

"Angel!" Livia rushed forward and scooped up her cat before Wolfe sent her flying. With the cat cradled in her arms, she whipped around. "You can't hurt my cat!"

He blinked at her. Those dark eyes like obsidian and steel melded into one otherworldly material to make up his eyes.

"I didn't know…you had a…cat." The words burst out in spurts, low and deadly in their anger.

She cuddled Angel closer and kissed her soft head. "She hides whenever somebody new comes in. I'm not surprised you didn't see her when you were searching my house."

"I didn't see a litter box either."

"It's hidden in the side table." She pointed.

He swallowed hard. The manly action made it hard for her to quit staring at his throat. But the glare he aimed at the cat made Livia clutch Angel tighter out of sheer protectiveness.

"Go to bed, Livia. Take the damn cat with you."

With a tilt of her chin, she met his stare for two solid heartbeats before twisting on her bare feet and hurrying to her bedroom.

Once she was inside, she set Angel on her bed. The cat immediately went to Livia's pillow and slipped into her usual spot next to her head.

"Menace," she gritted out, unsure if she was talking about the cat or Wolfe. That man was a huge thorn in her backside. First thing in the morning, she was going to call Colton and demand that he call off her unneeded, unwanted bodyguard.

Morning couldn't come fast enough. Even though she was wide awake, she climbed into bed and forced herself to close her eyes.

By lunchtime tomorrow, everything would be back to normal. Her usual bouncer would be back in Badlands, and she could pretend that this pseudo-threat and this thing with Wolfe never happened.

When she drifted into a light doze, she felt Angel next to her, vibrating with a constant purr that always helped Livia fall asleep.

Too soon, sunlight stabbed her awake, and she groaned. Since she worked late nights, she normally pulled the blackout curtains closed to block out the sun. After all that happened the night before, she forgot.

She reached for her cat but didn't find her sleeping in her spot. When she cracked an eye and looked over the rumpled covers for her white puffball, she spotted the open bedroom door. Apparently the blackout curtains weren't the only things she'd forgotten to close the previous night. Angel must have slipped out of the bedroom.

Was Wolfe still here? She could only hope he already realized his mistake and left in the night.

After brushing her teeth, she threw on some jeans and an old Badlands T-shirt. Then she walked into the kitchen for coffee and froze in her tracks.

Wolfe had his back to her. Oh god, what an impressive back it was too.

Carved muscle twitched and rippled all the way down to the jeans slung low on his hips, barely clinging to his rock-hard buttocks. Her mouth dried out watching muscles she didn't know existed roll under his tan flesh.

He let out a grunt, bringing her attention to what he was doing. He made brushing movements over the front of his body.

Should she alert him to her presence? Or ignore his existence? She did need her morning pot of coffee.

Just as she pivoted to step farther into the kitchen, Wolfe threw her a look over his beefy shoulder. "Your cat sheds."

Livia's spine stiffened. "How do you know that?"

He swung toward her, and she saw the small tuft of white fur clinging to his carved pec.

Blinking rapidly, she fought to focus her not-yet-caffeinated mind on something besides his impressive expanse of man-chest.

"I woke up covered in hair. That's how I know she sheds." He sounded as grumpy as a bear disturbed from hibernation.

A quick glance around the space didn't reveal her cat. She'd been a pet owner long enough to know that didn't mean much. Angel was great at slinking off and hiding for hours at a time.

Still, the urge to dispute his claim burned in her. She tilted her jaw. "Angel only sleeps with me."

"She didn't last night."

No way would her pampered princess of a housecat curl up with a big, scary stranger…except that puff of hair on his chest was a dead giveaway.

"Just get dressed. I need to get to the bar. Your buddies can pick you up there."

He stopped swiping hair off his chest, brows lowering into a sharp V. "Why would they pick me up?"

"To take you back to the ranch."

His jaw firmed, but he said nothing. As she brewed a pot of coffee, she tried not to notice how his body rolled with every step he took to the bathroom. When the shower switched on, she attempted to block out the images of a tall, muscular military man under the spray.

A short time later, the shower stopped. When Wolfe walked into the kitchen, she damn near dropped her coffee mug. Hot brew dribbled over her fingers.

His sandy hair was slicked back, giving him a more dangerous, even dastardly appearance. If he were in a suit, he could pass as a swanky billionaire type or a mafia don. It was all too easy to picture him in a suit, doing business from some luxe club and ordering hits on the lives of his enemies.

She stifled a shiver, shocked to realize it wasn't a shiver of fear.

To cover her discomposure, she pointed to the coffeepot. "Coffee?"

"If you've got a to-go cup, sure."

She grabbed a black mug with a lid and poured a copious amount of the coffee she so badly needed after her broken night's sleep and held it out to him. When his warm, callused fingers brushed over hers, she dropped her hand and stepped away.

He insisted on checking that the coast was clear before allowing her to walk to her car. He even inspected the back seat. She hated to think of what a man with his skills might do to somebody stupid enough to lie in wait for her. Luckily, she didn't find out.

They rode to Badlands in a miasma of tense silence. She was so stressed she was counting down the minutes until Colton or Hunter picked up their friend.

But as soon as they pulled into the parking lot, Wolfe stiffened in the passenger seat. He threw out a hand to stay her.

"The back door is open."

Her jaw dropped. Sure enough, the door she knew for a fact that she locked the previous night hung open a crack. Wolfe had even double-checked it.

"Stay in the car. Lock the doors."

"This is my bar!"

His dark gaze cut through her. "You're not going to do as you're told, are you?"

"No."

"Fine. Come with me, but if you don't do everything I tell you to when I tell you to do it, you will not enjoy the outcome."

The way he said that in a low, urgent tone, gave her body the opposite idea. In fact, her insides fluttered with the thought of what that punishment might be.

But now wasn't the time to test her limits with Wolfe. Someone had broken into her bar.

With one hand clamped on her forearm and a gun in the other, he led her across the parking lot to the back door. He forced her to walk so close to him that his body heat scorched through her thin T-shirt, and the scent of her own bodywash he used in the shower hit her in waves.

Using his boot, he nudged the door open farther. It swung silently on its hinges. The back room, always neat and orderly, was trashed. Boxes of paperwork and cleaning supplies were dumped all over the floor.

She let out a sharp gasp.

"Shh!"

She gulped at the hiss he made to silence her and allowed him to tow her through the space to the entrance of the bar.

Livia stared at the wreckage. Liquor bottles were smashed. The burning stench of spilled alcohol tingled in her nostrils. Several tables were overturned, the legs smashed. Someone had bashed one of the TVs with a bottle, creating a spiderweb on the glass.

"I know who did this." Her whisper sounded loud in the stillness.

"The man you shot."

"No. It's the guy you kicked out last night. The older man who drank too much."

He turned his head sharply to pierce her in his gaze. "How do you know that?"

She nodded toward the broken table. "The only tables that are broken are the ones in the vicinity where he was sitting."

Jerking his head, he followed her gaze. She pulled her arm from his grasp and started toward the closet for a broom to start cleaning up.

His tough fingers bit into her flesh as he grabbed her again. "Don't move. Let me check out the rest of the bar first."

She nodded, feeling more unsteady than she let on. It wasn't the first time a pissed-off customer had broken into Badlands and unleashed their anger over being thrown out. Back in the day, her father had endured the same thing several times before he figured out who was responsible and handed over the matter to the cops.

But the last thing she needed was for the police to get involved. They'd ask to pull her security footage—and there was a small clip of her shooting a man out back.

Wolfe appeared at her side. He slipped the weapon into the waist of his jeans, along that glorious spine of his.

"You don't look shocked that somebody broke in and smashed up your bar."

She shook her head. "It's not unusual. This is why I have cameras."

"I'll check the footage."

"Not without the password."

"Then add me to the account."

She shook her head. "You're already too involved. Call your friends to take you back to the Gracey Ranch. I'll get busy cleaning up. We open at lunch, but if I start here with the bar, I can get it clean enough—"

He reached up and cupped her jaw in his palm, forcing her to focus on him. She jerked at his touch, but he refused to let her go. Under his strong hand, she felt delicate. He could easily break her with a mere flick of his hand if he wanted to.

But he wouldn't do that. Wolfe was here to protect her, even if she didn't want him to.

"I need that footage."

"You're not getting my password."

They glared into each other's eyes for a long heartbeat. Then he released her and began prowling around the room, boots crunching on broken glass.

With shaky hands, she pulled up the security app on her phone to check the camera footage.

"Hold up, Livia. Don't bother checking that footage."

She looked up from her phone. "Why not?"

He stared up at the camera mounted high on the wall. "The cameras have been tampered with—someone spray-painted over them."

* * * * *

Livia didn't seem surprised that her cameras had been painted over. As if this happened all the time. If this was a regular occurrence, Eden was a more fucked-up town than Carver originally guessed.

"Livia."

She swung her stare to his. Her sapphire-blue eyes were dry without a tear in sight.

Tough cookie.

One with a soft, gooey filling if he was right about her.

He waved toward the smashed bottles. "I can't imagine a scenario where a drunk I tossed out took a tantrum and vandalized Badlands. There has to be more to it. Damage like this doesn't come from a drunk, belligerent customer."

She compressed her full lips, and that dimple popped in her cheek.

He slowly closed the gap between them, purposely invading her personal space. First, because it would force the truth out of her.

And second, because he couldn't stop this urge inside him to stay close to her.

"What aren't you telling me?" He imagined a ticked-off ex-boyfriend bullying Livia and his fists clamped at his sides.

She chewed at her plump lip. "My sister's ex could be responsible."

His brow hitched up. "What?"

She edged backward, away from Carver. "He's broken in before."

"What!" His rage echoed through the bar. Livia had been putting up with jerks terrorizing her? He took another step toward her.

Wincing, she backed up. Her foot collided with the broken shards of a bottle, sending it rolling.

"How many times?"

She dragged her tongue across her bottom lip. "A few."

"Did you turn him in to the cops?"

"The first time. Look, I didn't know he was back in town. I heard he left after…"

He battled for patience. He would need it with this woman. "After?"

"My sister had a few guy friends who…persuaded him…to leave Eden."

He gave a slow nod. Understanding. "I see."

"What do you see?" Her voice came out as a rasp.

"That you've been dealing with all this on your own for far too long."

She opened her mouth, then closed it again.

When he stepped away from her, his chest gave a hollow lurch. "I'm calling Colton."

"About time."

He fixed her in his stare. "I'm not leaving your side, Livia. Get that through your head." He pulled out his phone and located Colton's contact.

As soon as his friend picked up, Carver spoke. "I have a problem."

"What sort of problem?"

"Someone broke into Badlands."

"Jesus."

He was aware of Livia moving behind the bar. She dragged over a trash can and began picking up the broken bottles and tossing them in.

He kept his stare riveted to her stiff back and the tumble of red hair.

"They broke a lot of shit, and the worst part is they were smart enough to know how to keep from getting caught."

"How so?" Colton's voice took on a sharp edge.

"Spray paint over the cameras."

"Damn."

"I need new cameras. And locks. The sturdier, the better. How soon can you get them to me?"

"As soon as we can, but we're all pretty tied up here. Sean Gracey's home from the hospital. His phone's been ringing…a lot."

Damn. That meant shit was going down on the ranch. Colton and Hunter were needed there to protect the women they loved. Forest's sisters deserved better than to be thrown into their father's world of outstanding gambling debt.

"Did you get in touch with Ledger?" He pictured their fellow SEAL. He bore scars of his own, maybe deeper than the rest of theirs. After all, his best friend had bled out in Ledger's arms as he attempted to save the man's life.

He passed a hand over his face.

"I spoke with Ledger."

"And?"

"He'll be on the next flight to Montana. As if you thought he wouldn't come at your command, Wolfman."

The nickname sent him back to old times. While they weren't simpler times, at least everyone had been alive.

Colton's question shook him from his thoughts. "Can you bring Livia to the ranch? If she stays here, we can watch over her."

He stared at the entrance to the back room where she had vanished. "I don't think she'll agree to leave. She's stubborn."

At that, Colton laughed. "So you're saying you like her. A lot."

"I don't tango with crazy." Not only was Livia the most stubborn woman he'd ever encountered, but she had absolutely no regard for her own safety. He couldn't understand her brand of loyalty to her business, her willingness to put up with break-ins from drunk guys or ex-boyfriends just to keep the doors open.

"Please, Wolfe. She's totally your type."

"I don't have a type."

"The fuck you don't. You love a badass, sassy woman."

"I didn't know that was a type."

"You love difficult women."

It was time to end this conversation. "I hold rank, so don't even try to argue with me, Nox."

Colton issued a low chuckle. "I'll get the cameras and locks to you as soon as possible. But it's going to be a little while. We're looking for a calf. The mom dropped a baby somewhere, and we have no idea where it is."

The ranch life was so different from what Carver knew and even from what he was dealing with here in the small-town saloon with the stubborn—and stunning, sassy and utterly adorable—owner.