by Laura Ann
“Sounds good.” Sawyer watched as his friend walked away, his mind churning with possibilities. Does this mean I get to meet Ms. Storm tomorrow? And what exactly does a horsewoman need from a security firm? He took a deep breath. I guess there’s only one way to find out.
CHAPTER 2
Kinsley stepped out of her car and squinted at the large concrete building in front of her. There was nothing decorative about it, no flashing signs or fancy artistry around the edges, but something about the large square with its huge windows looked strong and immovable. Guess that goes right along with it being a personal security business, Kinsley mused. She glanced over the top of the car to her dad, who was stepping out of the passenger seat.
He turned his head and raised his eyebrows. “You ready?”
Kinsley shrugged. “I guess so.” She shut her door, pressed the lock button on her keys, and started walking. “How does Q know these guys again?”
“Remember Goldie? Finley’s wife?” Garrett asked, referring to Quentin Gruffman’s younger brother.
Kinsley nodded.
“Lockwood was her maiden name. The triplets running this are her brothers.”
“Ah.” Kinsley nodded. “That makes sense.” She grabbed the long handle on the door and paused. “Q must trust them a lot, because he’s not one to recommend people very often.”
Garrett patted her shoulder as he walked through the door she held open. “I have no doubt they can take care of the situation. Quentin has far too much experience with security to not know exactly who we need.”
Kinsley nodded again and they slipped inside. In the large, open foyer, a desk to the left waited for them. A petite redhead sat with her face staring into the screen of a computer. Kinsley and her father walked up and waited patiently for the secretary to notice them.
“Hello!” The woman turned and blinked. “Welcome to—” Her mouth opened and closed a few times before snapping shut with an audible click. “You’re...you’re Kinsley Storm,” the woman said breathlessly.
Kinsley felt heat travel from her neck all the way up her cheeks. Some days I am SO grateful to have darker skin. “Yeah...” she answered with an uncomfortable smile. Knowing the best thing to do was to face a fan head on, Kinsley extended her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
The secretary’s green eyes stayed wide as she took the offer and shook. Ever since Kinsley landed a modeling contract on the side of her riding, she’d had people start to recognize her in odd places. She’d been known around the horse world for several years, but outside of that circle, she used to be a nobody. Now, however, her face was plastered all over as she modeled athletic clothing, and people were taking notice.
“Sorry.” The secretary blinked several times and visibly pulled herself together. “You’re not the first celebrity to walk through those doors, yet here I am acting like a little kid on Christmas morning.”
Her wide smile helped ease some of the tension in Kinsley, and she found herself smiling back.
“By the way, I’m Cora.” She turned to Kinsley's father. “And you must be Mr. Storm.” Cora held out her hand, which Garrett took and gave a flirtatious kiss to.
“I’m always happy to meet a beautiful woman,” Garrett said with a grin.
Kinsley rolled her eyes. She knew full well her father wasn’t even close to wanting to replace his beloved wife, but you’d never know it by the charming act he put on in public.
Cora’s lips curled into a smile. “Ooh, I’m going to have to watch out for you. Handsome, older men are a weakness of mine.”
Garrett chuckled and put his hands in his pockets.
“Now... let’s get down to business.” Cora did a little typing on her computer, then glanced up. “You’re going to be meeting with Har— I mean, Mr. Lockwood in Conference Room number one.” She pushed back her seat and grabbed a file folder. “If you’ll just follow me, please.”
Kinsley raised an eyebrow and looked to her father at the secretary’s slip. Either she knew her boss very well, or she wanted to. But which is it? Kinsley wondered.
She followed the tiny woman down a long hallway to a door on their right. “The Storms are here,” Cora said politely as they walked inside. She held the door for Kinsley and her father to enter through, then stepped around them and set the file folder next to a blond-haired man who was seated at the head of the table. An exact replica of him was seated just to the man’s left.
The man in charge nodded his head, then stood, facing the Storms.
“You could at least say thank you,” Cora muttered as she turned and strutted toward the door.
Kinsley bit her lip to keep from laughing as she watched the indignant secretary stomp out of the room, slamming the door behind her. The man at the head of the table looked livid while his double, who was still seated, had his hand over his mouth in obvious amusement.
“Forgive my secretary,” the man said solemnly. He walked over and held out a hand. “I’m Harlan Lockwood, head of Lockwood Industries.” His light blue eyes pierced through Kinsley, and she had to admit he was extremely handsome. But there’s something...sad about him, she thought as she shook hands. Wonder what happened.
“Nothing to forgive,” Garrett said jovially. “I was married for twenty years.” He rocked back on his heels. “I’ve discovered when a woman’s upset, she usually has good reason for it.”
A snort came from the table, and Kinsley finally took the time to study the other man. Other than their haircuts, there was no way to tell him apart from Mr. Lockwood. Well...haircuts and the sadness.
Harlan waved a hand in the man’s direction. “Let me introduce my brother, Sawyer Lockwood.” Harlan began walking back to his seat. “Our other triplet, Ridge, won’t be joining us. We felt it best to keep your situation as close to the vest as possible. Please, have a seat.” He waved a hand at the table.
Kingsley’s father put his hand on her back and guided her to the chair directly across from Sawyer Lockwood. “Thank you,” she murmured to her dad as she sat down. When she brought her gaze up, she found herself looking directly into a set of cool, blue eyes. They were exactly the same shade as Harlan’s, but something about this gaze made her breath hitch. She felt a strange flutter in her abdomen as they looked at each other. Before long, she felt that same heat from before creep up into her face, and she forced herself to look away. There is no room for a handsome man in your life right now, she chided herself. You’re aiming for nationals, not a boyfriend. Besides, you’re here to hire protection, not get cozy with a man.
SAWYER BLINKED SEVERAL times after their little staring contest was over. What the heck was that? When her hazel eyes had met his, he’d felt trapped, as if some force was keeping them together. His skin had started to turn clammy and his heart rate had spiked. Maybe I need to eat something...my blood sugar could be low. Despite his little internal monologue, Sawyer knew that wasn’t the problem.
When Kinsley Storm had walked through the door, he’d felt a distinct shift in the air. The woman was tall, nearly six feet, and she held herself with poise and confidence. Her lean muscles were easily visible in her cuffed jeans and T-shirt, and Sawyer could see exactly why people described her as an angel. She’s even prettier in person than she is in the magazines.
He shook his head. Get a grip! This is a client. A client you’re going to be spending far too much time with over the next while. Remember, Harlan isn’t running a matchmaking service.
“So, Ms. Storm,” Harlan began.
“Please,” Kinsley interrupted, “call me Kinsley.” She gave a small smile. “I’m much more comfortable being a little informal.” She frowned a little. “If that’s all right?”
Harlan gave her a nod and his version of a smile. “Whatever you want is fine.” He glanced down at the file before looking back up.
“Sorry, I’m late!” Quentin Gruffman boomed from the doorway. He smiled wide and eased his large frame into the room, making it feel much smaller than it actually was.
Sawyer grinned and tipped his chin when Quentin caught his eye. It was amazing how easily the man moved. Sawyer himself was six-foot-four and built fairly wide, as were all three of the Lockwood brothers, but the Gruffmans put them to shame. Well...at least two of them do. Quentin and Finley Gruffman were a couple inches taller and wider than the Lockwoods, while the youngest, Brody, was about the same size. Knowing men who were bigger than them was a novel experience for the triplets. They’d always been the largest growing up, especially compared to their tiny mother and sister. Now, however, they had to give that honor to someone else. At least we’re all family, or honorary family anyway. Sawyer held back a chuckle. I’d hate to be on opposing sides to the Gruffmans.
“We’re glad you could make it, Quentin,” Harlan said. “I was just about to ask Ms. Kinsley to tell us what’s been going on.”
Quentin sat down in a chair and put an ankle on the other knee. “Sounds good. Please, don’t stop on my account.”
Kinsley grinned at Quentin and reached out for a fist bump. “How’s it going, Q?”
Quentin smiled and complied with her greeting. “It’ll be better when we get you settled, Kins. I don’t like seeing family threatened.”
“So...how do you know each other?” Sawyer blurted out before he could think better of it.
All eyes turned toward him, but Sawyer held his ground. In for a penny, in for a pound.
“Mr. and Mrs. Storm were good friends with my parents,” Quentin explained easily. “So we grew up with little Kins here dogging our steps when we were boys.”
Sawyer raised an eyebrow when Kinsley rolled her eyes toward heaven.
“You mean, I kept you three out of trouble.”
Garrett Storm laughed. “I don’t think anyone was capable of that, love.”
Quentin laughed along with him and slapped Mr. Storm’s back. “True enough, Garrett. True enough.”
Harlan cleared his threat. “Well...” He looked around the table. “We ready to proceed?”
Sawyer folded his arms over his chest and leaned back in his seat with a nod. So, she was raised rich. Huh. That explains the horses. It is a rich man’s sport, after all. And now she’s making money as a model. He scowled internally. Great. She’s probably going to be a spoiled princess to work with.
“Ms. Kinsley, would you please tell us why you feel you need security?” Harlan asked, setting the conversation back on track.
Kinsley glanced at her father, then nodded. “We’ve had some...unusual things happen lately and we...my father and I, think that someone might be trying to sabotage me.”
Harlan was typing away on his laptop. “Can you tell us what’s been going on? The exact problems you’ve been having?”
Kinsley’s hands on the table began to twist together and Sawyer frowned. Is it really that bad?
“Well, they’ve been little things. First, my riding crop went missing.” She sighed and leaned back, putting her hands in her lap. “Initially, I thought I’d just misplaced it, but I’m super meticulous.” She shook her head. “And then we couldn’t find it anywhere. For me to misplace it was possible, although not likely, but for it to disappear altogether was weird.”
“Could it have been stolen?” Sawyer asked, his eyes narrowed as he watched her.
Kinsley nodded. “It’s possible. There’s security all around the barn, but we brushed that one off, assuming it probably was theft.”
Harlan nodded his understanding and urged her to go on.
“After that, more things started to go missing. A brush, my gloves, a few more little things.” She took a deep breath. “And then things changed. They started taking things that had the ability to mess up my show.”
“Such as?” Harlan encouraged.
“My gloves were the first thing,” Kinsley said with a shrug. “I know it sounds like a little thing, but gloves are worn in and are required in the show. I’d be disqualified without them.”
“What did you do?” Sawyer asked, tilting his head to the side.
“I managed to borrow a pair from a friend, but they fit all wrong, which left me with sore fingers by the end of the day.”
Sawyer grimaced. Really? That’s it? Gloves? It sounds to me like she’s just messy.
“Anything else?” Harlan asked, still typing away.
Kinsley nodded. “This last week, my boots went missing.” She sighed. “Look, I know this probably sounds stupid from an outside perspective, but boots are similar to gloves. I happened to have a new pair with me and was able to use those, but my feet were really messed up by the end of the competition.” Her serious gaze went from Harlan to Sawyer and back. “I don’t think any of these things are a coincidence. Anyone within the horse world would know that gloves and boots are a big deal. By taking mine, they planned to put me in a position to either have to back out or to end up hurt by the end of the day, more than likely in an effort to mess up my performance.”
Sawyer snorted before he could stop himself. Once again, all eyes were on him. He could feel the heat of embarrassment creeping up his neck, but he couldn’t help but speak his mind. “It sounds to me like you need a housekeeper, not a bodyguard.” He immediately regretted his words, but also had no desire to back down. Nothing she described sounded nefarious, and someone needed to say so.
CHAPTER 3
Kinsley snapped her falling jaw shut. He doesn’t even know me! How dare he accuse me of being a disorganized idiot! So much for thinking he and I had a moment earlier. He was probably sitting there thinking I looked like someone who needs a nanny. She forced herself to stay calm when she spoke, but her clenched teeth easily gave away her anger. “I assure you, I meant what I said earlier, Mr. Lockwood. I’m a very organized individual. I didn’t misplace that many items, and even if I did misplace one or two, I would have fixed the situation. But nothing I did stopped the disappearances. As for my boots and gloves, I triple check all my gear before leaving for a show.” Her hands were now clenched in her lap and she forced her fingers to relax. The more she talked, the angrier she became.
“I’ve been doing this for years and wouldn’t suddenly change my ways.” She leaned onto the table. “I realize you’re not a part of the horse world, Mr. Lockwood, but I can assure you that if I ran my career that way, I would have been out of the running many years ago.”
Sawyer put his hands in the air in surrender. “Hold on, Ms. Kinsley. I wasn’t trying to pick a fight.”
Kinsley huffed and folded her arms over her chest. Sure, you weren’t.
“I was simply trying to point out that nothing you’ve said sounds like real trouble. I’m struggling to understand why you feel you need protection.”
Harlan cleared his throat and glared at his brother. “Thank you for your concern, Sawyer,” he said firmly. “But I have to disagree.” He turned to Kinsley and her father. “It sounds like the problems are escalating. They’ve gone from benign to physical harm, even if it is secondhand pain.” Harlan pinched his lips for a moment. “Have you thought of putting up cameras in your storage area? Or wherever the problems have been occuring?”
Kinsley’s dad jumped in. “It’s not as easy as that. We’re never in the same place. Each show takes place in different arenas around the country.” He glanced at Kinsley and patted her knee. “Kinsley is running at the top of the charts this year and is expected to be a shoe-in for the nationals. Since she’s continued to perform well despite the problems, we’re concerned the saboteur is going to start getting desperate. Knocking Kinsley out of the running would make big headlines in the horse community.”
Harlan nodded thoughtfully. “These problems only happen at the shows?”
Kinsley nodded. “So far, yes.”
“Do you think they might start showing up during your practices?” Harlan frowned.
Kinsley looked at her father, who smiled in encouragement, before she turned back to Harlan. “We think it has to be someone close to us causing all of this, so I guess it’s possible.”
Kinsley pushed her temper down and pinned the man with a hard stare. “Because security is tight. Some of those horses are worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. Strangers or people who look out of place would not be able to just waltz around the stables. You have to have badges and clearance to get anywhere. If someone is regularly getting into my tack, it has to be someone whom no one thinks anything of. They have to be someone who belongs.”
“But that could be a competitor or any of the workers, correct?” Harlan asked, typing quickly into his computer again.
“Correct.” Kinsley relaxed back into her seat. “I only have a small crew that I see in between shows. However, at a show, there are hundreds of people who could have access. The other riders, their crews, the parents, coaches, and helpers of those riders.” She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “They’d all have badges and all have access.” She looked up. “But in order to target me, it makes sense that they’d have to be somewhat familiar with me. They’d have to know where my stuff is and how to access it.”
Harlan pursed his lips. “I’m going to need a list of everyone that works for you.” He glanced at Sawyer. “And in the meantime, it sounds like you need someone behind the scenes with you at the shows.”
Garrett grabbed his daughter’s hand and squeezed. “That’s what we were hoping for.”
Harlan frowned. “How easy is it to get one of these badges? Can we just say that Sawyer is part of your crew?”
Kinsley’s lips twitched and she fought the desire to laugh. “We could certainly sign him up as that.” Her eyes met the somber bodyguard. “How good are you at mucking out stalls?”
Sawyer scowled. “Not a chance.” He turned to his brother in protest. “I’m not going in there to wade up to my ankles in horse poop.”