Page 55 of Cowboy Elite 2: Mike

"But he's being nosy again," Charlotte protested. "And Uncle Joe says we don’t like nosy people."

Out of the mouths of babes.

The kitchen door swung open and Mike walked in, took one look at the tableau, Liv pale and tense, Harris hovering, Charlotte standing guard like a tiny, fierce sentinel, and his expression went carefully neutral.

"Mr. Hendricks," he said smoothly, knowing full well that wasn’t man’s name. It took every ounce of self-control he possessed not to plant his fist in the guy’s face and knock out those too-perfect teeth. "I thought I heard voices. You sleep well?"

"Fine, thanks." Harris set down his coffee mug. "I was just complimenting the chef on her excellent pastries."

"Mm-hmm." Mike moved to stand beside Liv, close enough to be protective without being obvious. Hell, who was he kidding? He was marking his territory like an arrogant wolf. "She’s talented, that's for sure. We're lucky to have her." He turned to Charlotte. "Squirt, why don't you run and get cleaned up and dressed? I’m pretty sure you’ve got puppies to tend to."

"But my pie?—"

"I'll put it in the oven for you," Liv promised. "Go on."

Charlotte went, but not before shooting Harris one more suspicious look that would've done Kenny proud.

Once she was gone, Mike’s smile stayed fixed but his eyes went hard. "Was there something specific you needed, Mr. Hendricks? Kitchen doesn't usually open for guest access until breakfast service starts at seven."

"Just getting an early start on the day." Harris's own smile was just as false. "Didn't mean to intrude."

"Of course not." Mike held the door open. "Breakfast will be ready in about forty-five minutes. Feel free to enjoy the porch in the meantime."

It wasn't quite a dismissal, but it was close enough that Harris got the message. He nodded to them and left, boots still squeaking.

The second the door closed behind him, Liv's knees almost gave out. She gripped the edge of the counter, pulling in air that felt too thin.

"I've got you." Mike's hand settled warm and steady on her shoulder. "You're okay."

"I’m probably being paranoid, but something feels off about that guy. He acts like he knows me."

"We're aware." Mike’s voice was calm, certain. "And we're handling it."

"We?"

"My brothers and I had a meeting this morning.” He squeezed her shoulder. “He’s not a physical threat, Liv, but try to steer clear.”

“Who is he?”

“His name is Dan Harris and he’s a private investigator out of Dallas.”

“Why are we letting him stay?”

“That was my reaction. Kenny pointed out that we don’t want to tip our hand just yet. We don’t want him to know we suspect anything or that we’re protecting you. Not until Joe firms up a plan that involves no exchange of information between him and the people who hired him.”

She moved closer and didn’t seem to realize it. Mike took advantage and drew her into his arms. He wanted to wrap her up and take off with her. Just the two of them. Get her away from prying PIs and scumbag cowards who send Hench men to do their dirty work. He wanted to keep her safe.

But taking her on the run wasn’t a good option. As much as he hated the thought of waiting for that other proverbial shoe to drop, he knew that the best place for her was right here on this ranch where the precision expertise of an entire group stood between her and whoever was coming for her.

The confrontation happened in the tack room at half past nine.

Kenny had been watching Harris all morning, tracking his movements on the security cameras they’d installed throughout the property. When Harris slipped away from the main house and started photographing the barn area with his phone, Kenny decided he'd seen enough.

Joe was already waiting when Kenny arrived, arms crossed, expression carved from stone.

Harris looked up from his phone as they entered, and something flickered across his face. Recognition, maybe. Or resignation.

"Gentlemen," he said evenly. "Beautiful property you've got here."