Guarded by the Cowboy - Em Petrova Page 0,3
on gravel. Okay, so maybe Boone wasn’t the only Wynton in a hurry tonight. They must have good reason for rushing back to the office.
Well, that clinched it—she was staying.
* * * * *
Ross’s voice projected from the front of the office. “Where’s Boone?”
Boone emerged from the conference room into the open office. “What the hell’s going on, brother? I was barely off the ranch when you called me to come back. I thought we were meeting the guys.”
“Not for this.” Ross strode forward, his boot heels thumping on the floor.
Lauralee had come back inside too. She sat at her desk, looking between them like an eager puppy waiting for someone to give her a job to do.
Ross held out his phone, and Boone took it. “What is this?” He read the name and met his brother’s stare. “Peter Black? The Wyoming billionaire who struck oil on his ranch?”
He felt Lauralee’s gaze roaming back to them, but she didn’t enter the conversation.
“That’s right. Black wants a new head of security, but there’s one small snafu.”
Boone cocked a brow. “What the hell is a snafu? Is that even English? You’ve been hanging around your doctor fiancée too long.”
“I’m surprised you don’t know this,” Lauralee broke in, her throat still throaty from what she claimed were allergies. “It’s actually military slang for Situation Normal, All Fucked Up. Meaning things are running in a typical messy state.”
He held her stare for a heartbeat. “Thanks. I didn’t know you swear.”
Her cheeks flooded with color. “I usually don’t. I…” Twisting her attention back to her work, she left him and Ross to continue their discussion.
“So, what’s the issue we’re facing?” he asked his brother.
“Black is your typical eccentric billionaire. He wants things his way—no, he demands it. And his one requirement is that the guy hired must be married.”
Boone gave a slight shake of his head. “Why are you bringing this to me, then? Let him find another security agency with old farts who are already married.”
Ross’s expression grew grim. “It’s not Black we’re trying to help.”
Lauralee swung her gaze back to them.
“It’s his wife,” Ross stated plainly. “She’s held prisoner. She managed to bribe a member of the staff to get a note out to us after seeing our names in a newspaper she wasn’t supposed to have. She personally requested our help to free her.”
Boone’s chest burned. This was the shit he lived for. Pulling calves still offered some excitement, but one of his biggest reasons for getting on board with Ross’s idea to establish a security company boiled down to challenges exactly like this one.
“Prisoner?” Lauralee’s tone came out so breathless that Boone’s gut tightened in reaction. She abandoned her post at the computer system she was always glued to, and drifted over to join them, bringing with her the source of the doughnut smell—it was her.
“You have to do this. You have to get close to her and help free her,” she said.
Ross gave the single nod of agreement that was part of the Wynton birthright. “Exactly.”
Boone firmed his lips. “I totally agree that she has to be freed, but since I’m not married, I don’t see how Black will hire me as head of security. Without that, I won’t even get close enough to help her. Who am I supposed to marry?”
Ross spread his hands as if he was at a loss too.
“Can Corrine be passed off as a wife?” Boone was throwing darts at a board of balloons with little hope of hitting one. This entire prospect seemed like a losing battle.
A long pause followed while Ross considered his question. “The guy requires a marriage license as part of the paperwork, and since Corrine’s our sister, that won’t work.”
Damn. “Who do you suggest then?”
“I’m sure you can find a woman. You’ve got plenty chasing you.”
“Christ.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, but it did nothing to dispel his shock at what his brother was asking him to do for the sake of one woman.
“Why can’t Noah do it?” Lauralee put in.
Boone rounded on her, and she took a hasty step backward as if he startled her with his sudden move.
“Yes! Noah’s the logical answer. He and Maya Ray are halfway to the altar.”
“He isn’t trained the way you are, Boone.”
Fuck. Ross was right—while their baby brother had attended many of the training courses the rest of the team had, Boone had more experience. This job sounded next-level compared to small-town security positions or the odd politician to guard.