Protect Me

by Alexis Winter

  Protect Me

  Alexis Winter

  A Novel

  By Alexis Winter

  Mountain Ridge Series

  Copyright 2019 by Alexis Winter - All rights reserved.

  * * *

  In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.

  * * *

  Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.

  Contents

  The arrogant bastard is back…

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Three Months Later…

  Epilogue

  WANT TO READ MORE FROM ALEXIS WINTER?

  Just Friends

  No feelings. No expectations. No Forever.

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  The arrogant bastard is back…

  I promised myself I was done with men…but when Tyler pressed his muscular mountain man body against mine that all went out the window.

  * * *

  He swept in and rescued me from the hell I was living in. He made me feel wanted, needed, safe from any more heartache. I fell for him hard.

  * * *

  And then, he left…with a note. No explanation, no ‘I’m sorry,’ just a pathetic goodbye note.

  * * *

  Now he’s back…showing up at my best friend’s wedding, demanding a second chance.

  * * *

  I’m so done with him.

  * * *

  Except that I can’t stop thinking about ripping that suit off his delicious body…It’s fine, I’m fine. As long as he doesn’t kiss me…or touch me…or look at me I’ll be fine!

  * * *

  He says this time is different. This time he’ll protect me and make me his, no matter what it takes. But can I trust him after he broke my heart?

  Chapter One

  The alarm clock blares from beside my bed, stirring me from the most perfect sleep I’ve ever had. With a groan, I roll over and smack it off the table, silencing it.

  “Too early,” I mumble, forcing myself to sit up. My back curves, shoulders slumping forward and my head hanging as I rub the sleep from my eyes. “Why did I think it was a good idea to drink last night?”

  I push the blankets from my body and nearly sleepwalk to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. Luckily, I have one of those fancy coffee makers that always keeps the water hot. By the time I get out of the shower, I’ll have a whole pot of freshly brewed coffee—my reason to live.

  After pouring the water into the back, I place the carafe on the burner and turn toward the bathroom, hitting my head on the corner of the wall. “Ow!” I rub the sore spot on my head as I push myself through the dark living room and into the bathroom.

  Stepping beneath the hot stream of water feels amazing. I dip my head back, letting the water rain down over my soft brown hair. Pouring a heaping handful of shampoo into my palm, I work it into a thick lather, deeply breathing in the scent of coconut. I love smelling like I’ve just stepped off the beach. Why I didn’t move to California to become a beach bum after college is beyond me.

  I pour my coconut-lime body wash into a loofah and scrub every inch of my body with it. The hot water helps to relax my muscles and wake me up. I almost don’t want to step out. But I know that if I’m late, Vesper will have a fit—even though she’s been keeping extra busy between the clinic and training the new vet at the O’Connor Ranch.

  With a heavy sigh leaving my lips, I turn off the water and step out, wrapping my pink fuzzy robe tightly around my now cold, wet body. Slipping my feet into my matching house shoes, I shuffle back through the living room and into the kitchen to reward myself with that cup of coffee. The aroma fills my nose, instantly making my mouth water. After four spoonfuls of sugar and a nice big helping of hazelnut creamer, I take the first sip. “Mmm, so good,” I mumble around the cup as the warm, sweet liquid makes its way past my lips.

  With the cup still attached to my mouth, I head for my bedroom to fix my face for the day. Sitting behind my vanity, I pull the towel from my hair to let it air dry a bit while I apply my daily makeup.

  It takes me at least a good hour to fix my hair and makeup, but I have plenty of time to spare. I’m not one of those girls who can slap on some tinted moisturizer and lip gloss and call it a day—like Vesper. I’m envious of her in so many ways. She’s smart, naturally beautiful, and always in a good mood. Me, I’m the complete opposite. I feel like I need a full face of makeup to look decent. I wasn’t one of the smart girls either. In high school, I did okay—got decent grades, but I was more the popular party girl than the academic girl. In college, that party girl label only sunk in deeper. To be honest, I’m surprised I graduated at all. I skidded by, hanging on by my teeth and fingernails—basically clawing my way to graduation day.

  Finishing off my coffee, I go for my second cup and take it back to the bedroom with me while I dress. I’m also not one of those girls who feel the need to dress up often. I mean, when I go out, I make an effort, but that’s a completely different wardrobe than work attire. Luckily for me, I get to wear jeans and tank tops or t-shirts.

  I slide into a pair of form-fitting jeans that hug my every curve, then tug on my “Rescue All Animals” t-shirt. I pull on a pair of boots and look myself over in the mirror. My long, dark hair is straight and hangs down to my mid-back. My green eyes are lined darkly, and my cheekbones are perfectly contoured. Finishing off my coffee, I grab my purse, heading for the kitchen.

  I drop everything onto the kitchen table and wash my coffee cup, knowing it will drive me crazy if I know it’s sitting dirty in the sink all day. Taking my favorite thermos from the cabinet, I fill it with the rest of the pot, topping it off with probably a pound of sugar and a whole cup of creamer. Grabbing my jacket, keys, and purse, I head out for the day, locking the door behind me.

  I’m the first one to the clinic, as usual, so I unlock the door and turn off the alarm. I walk through, turning on lights and starting up computers. Just as I’m switching off the answering service, Vesper walks in, her strawberry blonde hair blowing behind her.

  “Good morning,” I greet her.

  “Hey, sorry I’m late. I got caught up with Dillon, the new vet at the ranch.” She walks behind the counter and reaches for my thermos.

  I look at the clock on the wall. “You’re not late. Right on time. And give me that.” I reach out and take my coffee. “That’s mine. Your pot is already brewing right over there.” I point at the corner that holds the free coffee for everyone to enjoy.

  She rolls her eyes. “You’re so weird about your coffee.” She lets out a loud sigh and moves to pour herself a cup.

  “How’s the new vet doing, by the way?” I ask, just to be nosy.

  She shrugs. “Good, I guess. He just needs time to be broken in. It’s all still new, you know?”

  I nod once. “I’m sure he’ll get there. Just give it some time.” I place my elbows against the counter, leaning down. “And the new clinic? How’s it coming along?”

  She takes a sip of her coffee as her eyes grow wide with excitement. “Reall
y great! Ahead of schedule, to my surprise.”

  “I’m kind of sad you won’t be here every day. Dr. McStuffy isn’t any fun.” I roll my eyes, referring to the new vet she hired to cover her place here while she goes back and forth with the new clinic being built.

  Her brows draw together. “Give him a shot. He’s not that bad.”

  “Not that bad? He has the driest sense of humor I’ve ever seen. I mean, I talk to the guy and I need a drink of water.”

  She laughs. “I’m sorry, Amy. I can’t do everything myself. I mean, it’s like I’m working at three different places with this office the new clinic, and everything going on at the ranch. Once everything is up and running over there, I’ll transfer him and be right back here bugging you every day.” She offers up a wide smile as she passes me to head to her office.

  The day is long and slow, but finally, five o’clock rolls around and I’m able to clock out and leave. I climb behind the wheel of my truck, turning over the engine. Instead of heading home, I go by my mom’s place a few towns over. Pulling into the drive, I roll my eyes at the overgrown yard and the trash cans that are overfilled with glass vodka bottles.

  With a deep breath, I climb out and walk to the front door. The second the door opens, Benny, the cat, darts out.

  “Mom?” I yell, walking into the messy kitchen and dropping my purse onto the table. I look at the mess around me. The sink is filled with dishes, and I automatically walk over to fill it with hot, soapy water to soak. The table is covered in mail, old newspapers, and magazines.

  “Mom!” I yell again, walking down the hallway and into the living room to find bottles all over the table and floor, but the room is empty. I walk further into the house, peeking into the bathroom and then into the bedroom, where I find her sprawled out on the bed. I walk closer, inspecting her to make sure she’s breathing. Her chest rises and falls slowly. I roll my eyes and head back to the kitchen to start cleaning.

  Two hours later, the dishes are washed, every surface is wiped down, the floors are swept, and the trash is picked up and taken out. I go back into her room, leaving a bottle of water and some painkillers on the bedside table, then a small trash can beside the bed.

  I hate seeing her this way. Her dark hair is starting to gray at the roots and her face, once beautiful and smooth, is now covered in deep wrinkles. She has dark circles under her eyes and her body looks thin and frail. Years of heavy drinking are weighing on her.

  I close my eyes and take a deep breath, pushing away the urge to cry. I know it won’t do any good. I’ve cried, begged, pleaded, and threatened her to get her to go to rehab. But nothing ever does any good. However, I haven’t been able to uphold my threats either. I said I would stop coming by and taking care of her, and yet, here I am. I can’t give up on her. She raised me. She did the best she could for me. It’s only fair that I do the same, right?

  Shaking my head, I stand and make my way out of the house. Climbing behind the wheel, I shift into drive and head back to town, intending to go home. But when I look up and pull myself from my thoughts, I find myself in front of the local bar.

  I bite my lip as I think it over. After seeing my mom, this is a place I really should avoid. But I’m not a raging alcoholic; I’m just a normal drinker. I drink to have fun or when I’ve had a shitty day. I’ve for sure had a shitty day and could use some fun.

  That’s the only thought that runs through my head. I grab my purse out of the passenger seat and walk inside the nearly dead bar.

  “Hey, Sarah,” I say, taking my seat on the barstool as she pours drinks behind the bar.

  “How’s it going today, hon?” she asks, quickly looking up at me before fixing her eyes back on the drink she’s pouring.

  “Long day. Can I get a drink?” I reach into my purse, pulling out a crisp twenty and placing it on the bar. By the time I leave, that twenty will be gone.

  “Sure, one sec,” she responds, handing the drink over to a man sitting a couple barstools away from me.

  I’m lost in my own thoughts when she sets the vodka tonic down in front of me. I grab it quickly and drink nearly half of it before pulling the glass from my lips. She stands back, watching me with wide eyes.

  “Whoa. You must’ve had a bad day. What’s going on?” She places her forearms against the bar, leaning in toward me.

  I wave my hand through the air. “Oh, you know. Work sucked. Vesper hired this new vet to fill in her position while the new clinic is going up, and he’s a total douche. Then I had to go by my mom’s house and clean up after her week-long bender.” I roll my eyes. “I just wish I could catch a break, you know? I want to take a vacation and find some drop-dead sexy guy, and just spend an entire weekend shacked up with him in some sleazy motel room.” I laugh. Big dreams.

  She smiles wide. “That doesn’t sound too bad. When you go, let me know and I’ll ride along with you.” She stands, grabbing a towel and wiping down the bar top.

  “I just want to forget all my problems for a little while. Forget that my mom relies on me for everything. And work, that used to be my escape. I love helping animals and spending all day with my best friend. But now that she’s gone and I’m forced to put up with Dr. McAsshole, it’s just another shitty part of my day.”

  “Why don’t you find a new job?” she asks.

  I pick up my glass and take another drink. “I can’t. Vesper needs me. If I quit, that’ll just leave her shorthanded.”

  She narrows her blue eyes on me. “Take it from me, if you don’t find something to make you happy, you’ll always feel this way.”

  “What way?” I nearly whisper.

  “Empty.” Without another word, she turns and walks back down the length of the bar to wait on more customers.

  Chapter Two

  The hours pass, and my money has long been spent. The bar picks up and a crowd gathers: lining the bar, filling the tables, and swaying on the dance floor. The quiet bar is transformed to the town’s only hotspot.

  I’ve done nothing but sit at the bar, drinking glass after glass, and thinking about what Sarah said. Do I feel empty? I mean, what is my purpose in life? I don’t have a life-long career—not unless you count being a receptionist a dream job, and I don’t. But could I leave Vesper? And if I did, what would I do? This town doesn’t really hold many options. Would I have to move? Moving to California and becoming a professional beach bum sounds pretty good right now. And I want to do it while I’m still young and can rock a bikini. With that thought, a laugh slips past my lips.

  “What’s so funny?” a man asks as he takes the barstool next to mine.

  I turn to find myself face to face with Tyler, the ranch hand that Vesper went out with once. This is the first time I’ve seen him in a while. I completely forgot how sexy he is. He has an intimidating physique—thick, broad shoulders and large developed biceps. His shirt struggles to contain his broad chest, the sleeves straining at his biceps. His thick dark hair highlights his sparkling eyes and his matching facial hair frames his plump lips perfectly. I can’t help but get caught off guard by his tongue darting out and wetting those delicious lips.

  I wave my hand through the air, dismissing the thought. “Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

  “If it’s as funny as you think it is, I do want to know.” He shoots me a sexy grin.

  I roll my eyes. “I was just thinking about moving to California to become a professional beach bum.”

  He laughs. “Yeah? I hear the pay’s great.”

  “Right. Maybe not in money but in experience,” I joke.

  He bumps my shoulder with his. “What’s going on, Amy? You thinking about running away or finding a new job?”

  I shrug. “I just don’t feel very fulfilled. I think I need to make some changes to my life. Find what makes me happy.” I look over to see him bring a beer bottle to his lips. “How’d you do it? How’d you know you wanted to become a rancher?”

  He presses his lips together tightly, thinking it over. “Well,
it was just something that I enjoyed. I’ve always loved animals and working with them. Being a ranch hand isn’t exactly my dream job. Owning my own ranch is. But you gotta start somewhere. You know?”

  I nod once. “At least one of us has it all figured out,” I mumble.

  “You look like you could use some fun.” He stands, holding out his hand.

  I look from him, to his hand, and back. “What?”

  “Dance with me,” he demands.

  Dancing is the last thing I feel like doing, but I can’t deny him. His dark eyes lock on mine, burning with passion and desire.

  “What?” I ask, feeling the heat rise up my cheeks.

  “Come on. What are you scared of?”

  I push my dark hair behind my ear. “I’m not scared.” I stand, giving him a smile and slipping my hand into his.

  He pulls me behind him, across the hardwood floor, until we’re standing in the center of the dance floor where he spins around and pulls me against his firm body. When my chest presses against his, the force knocks the air from my lungs and our eyes lock. My lips part with my heavy breathing. I knew he had an effect on my body, but I didn’t expect this burning tingle to take over from such a simple touch.