Liam’s Anchor
Royal Pines Series/ Book 3
by Donna Michaels
NYT & USA Today Bestselling Author
LIAM’S ANCHOR
Royal Pines Series/Book 3
Copyright © 2020 Donna Michaels
Cover Art by Donna Michaels © 2020
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author—except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a magazine, newspaper, or on the web. For information, please contact the author via email at [email protected]
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
ISBN:
About this Book
After leaving the teams, former Navy SEAL Liam Jennings used his construction background to cultivate a company that gives him a new purpose, a new way to help others. He is happy to leave Texas to build an area for veterans and people with special needs at his SEAL buddy’s Colorado dude ranch. Until he runs into her...the sweet woman from his past. A woman he should’ve resisted but hadn’t…and that lapse in control brought nothing but bad luck, death, and destruction to his team. It wasn’t her fault. It was his, and he stayed away from her…until now.
Stacy Bradshaw loves helping people have fun. Her job as an activity director at a popular dude ranch gives her that opportunity every day. Making guests smile brings her joy but that joy is threatened the moment he shows up at Royal Pines...the man who’d once touched her heart then crushed it. He taught her the beauty of heat…and the cold reality of day. Lesson learned. One she never repeated--never even considered repeating…until he walked back into her life.
Forced to work together, they soon discover that heat is very much alive, and even though they both have misgivings, they agree to give into their chemistry while he is at the ranch. But as the weeks go by without any bad luck or disasters, Liam starts to realize the real disaster was leaving Stacy. He made that mistake once and refused to do it again. But overcoming her trust issues—the ones he created—is the biggest, most important mission of his life.
Thanks for reading,
~Donna
www.donnamichaelsauthor.com
Author’s Note
Visit www.donnamichaelsauthor.com for more titles and release dates.
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Dedication
To all the Royal Pines fans, thank you so much for embracing this special to me series!
To my new grandson Liam. ♥ I am so blessed to have you in my life and am so very happy to finally get poor Liam’s story out since he was first mentioned over a decade ago in the original books. Of course, I had to make sure to get the story published during your birth year. ♥
As always, to my editing team for putting up with my extra crazy schedule!
To my husband and family for your unending support!
♥
Table of Contents
About this Book
Author’s Note
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Also by Donna Michaels
Connect with Donna Online
About the Author
Chapter One
During Liam Jennings’ thirty-nine years on Earth, he’d discovered—both personally and professionally—there was a connection between arrogance and stupidity. He held little tolerance for either. Especially when it came to hiking on the private property of a dude ranch when you were not a guest. Not only was it dangerous, stupid, and arrogant, it was also a criminal offense. “No Trespassing” signs were clearly posted all over the place.
And the guy was no guest.
Liam would bank on it. He knew the twins who owned the land, and they only allowed guests to hike in groups—and only when accompanied by a guide. The Brennan brothers were former military. No way would they permit their guides to allow someone to wander away. Besides, on the off chance it did happen, one or both of the brothers would be alerted—and they’d hunt the guest down. It was ingrained in them.
Of this, Liam was certain.
Granted, Liam wasn’t a guest either, but he did have full access to the property for nearly another two months. The Royal Pines dude ranch was his job site and temporary home, and today, for the first time since arriving ten weeks ago, he’d gone for a hike.
With unseasonably warm temperatures for early November in southeastern Colorado, the snow had yet to fall. Liam had taken advantage of the opportunity the owners had afforded him due to his former SEAL status, to explore the property without a guide.
Unlike the idiot he’d just rescued, though, Liam hadn’t entered the wilderness alone. Trident had accompanied him. The retired military working dog had needed to burn off energy. It was a good thing, too, since it was the Belgian Malinois who’d alerted Liam to the injured hiker trapped in a gully.
That was seven hours ago.
It felt like forty.
Descending the hillside and splinting the guy’s broken ankle had been the easy part, despite the fact Liam had been shaking and sweating because the action had resurrected old memories.
Dark memories.
The good news was he’d had his phone out while assessing Peter the hiker’s injuries. Bad news was Peter the hiker panicked when the small ridge beneath them started to give way and he knocked the phone from Liam’s hand…before Liam had alerted search and rescue.
Using Peter’s cell was a no go, too. Apparently, the idiot had left his phone at home on the charger because he wanted to “rough it like a real man.”
Throughout life, Liam had met all types of men—soldiers, insurgents, demons, butchers, heroes, chaplains, ministers…but he had to admit, Peter was unique.
Aptly named, the guy really was a dick.
Returning to the trail where Trident stood watch had sucked. The first attempt had resulted with Liam sliding back down, thanks to the flailing idiot on his back.
Christ, he was lucky he’d caught a damn foothold.
Luckily, the second attempt to climb the side of the gully had worked. Pushing through the pain of his newly acquired injuries—and the unwanted images of déjà vu from past missions—Liam had bulldozed his way back to the top. No way in hell would he kick the bucket with Dick the asshole.
He hadn’t survived seventeen years in the Navy, fifteen as a SEAL, to die from a broken neck at the bottom of a gully next to a damn hiker who possessed more ego than brains and an unhealthy disregard for rules.
Hell, no. Not when he should’ve died four years ago with his men.
Rejected by the reaper again.
Apparently, today was Peter’s lucky day, because among the water bottles in the backpack Trident carried to add weight to his workout, Liam always stored a backup phone, too.
Alerting search and rescue, he gave them a quick SITR
EP and immediately vetoed the need for a helicopter. They were accessible by foot. Besides, the sound would trigger a flood of memories best left behind the invisible dam in his head. It was bad enough when some of them managed to trickle through.
So, no chopper meant hoofing it.
Wasting no time, Liam hoisted Peter onto his back and shoulders, deeming the sharp stabbing that shot through his wounds well worth the pain to rid himself of the guy ASAP.
The sooner the better.
Five minutes later, after listening to the dick whine the whole time, Liam wished he hadn’t been so hasty in refusing the chopper.
This day just keeps getting worse.
He should’ve stayed in his cabin and cleaned his tools.
Tuning the idiot out, Liam trudged down the mountain, allowing Trident to lead the way in the direction S&R had calculated was the closest.
Within ten minutes, they rendezvoused with the sheriff and the search and rescue team, who’d been hiking to their location.
Beyond grateful to hand Peter over, Liam eagerly gave a rundown on the situation, what he’d done, his assessment and treatment of the idiot, then refused their care, insisting he was fine.
“If we head back to the vehicles, I can give you a ride to Royal Pines,” the sheriff said. His cropped hair, keen gaze, and purposeful gait spoke of prior military service.
Liam shook his head. He was bone weary. Done in. All he wanted was to get the hell out of there—without conversation. “Thanks, but we’re going to hoof it back. We need to work off the adrenaline.”
Understanding flashed through the sheriff’s eyes. “Roger that.” With a curt nod, the man walked away.
Relieved to leave the responsibility of Peter-the-whining-dick behind, Liam blew out a long, slow breath. Exhaustion and pain loomed, eager to take over. He kept most of it at bay, but his chest, shoulder, and upper arm hurt like hell where his shirt was sticking to his open wounds—courtesy of his first attempt up the gully. Jagged rocks had cut through his coat and layers of clothing and breached his flesh.
But right now, he didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was getting back to the ranch and putting this day behind him.
He glanced down at Trident standing by his side, still alert and attentive despite, no doubt, feeling as beat at Liam. “Hungry?”
The dog lifted his head, his dark gaze locked on his, unwavering. Even though Trident remained silent and still, Liam knew it was an affirmation.
A grin tugged at his lips. “Roger that.” Although eager to leave, he dug in his pockets for food.
His dog came first. Would always come first.
Trident had been assigned to Liam’s SEAL team, and even though Ramirez had been the handler, the dog had been everyone’s battle buddy. One of the team. A four-legged SEAL. For seven years, they’d fought together. Had each other’s six. So, when Ramirez had died two years after Liam had left, and Trident had been retired because of his age, Liam had immediately stepped up and started the long process of adopting the MWD dog.
They had seen and lived through most of the same things. Dealt with similar reoccurring shit. It’d been a no brainer.
Liam and Trident were part of the same pack.
“Aha, you’re in luck,” he said, digging out a lone granola bar.
At that, Trident licked his chops. Liam’s grin widened…and his stomach growled. Huh. He hadn’t realized he was hungry. Now that he had, though, he knew it was a good indication that his PTSD was a lot lower than it had been when he’d first gotten out.
Four years ago, he’d topped the charts. Lately, he’d been in the low range. The credit belonged to Trident. Since the adoption had gone through last year, Liam hardly had medium days. Helping one of his team went a long way to soothing some of his demons.
Now, if Trident could just help rid the damn restlessness plaguing Liam the past few months, that’d be great.
He broke the bar in three pieces and tossed two to Trident before eating the last piece.
Trident is always first.
Liam pulled two bottles of water from Trident’s backpack, opened one to pour slowly while the dog drank, then he downed the other in a couple of gulps. When finished, he shoved the trash in the backpack. That was food and drink taken care of…two of life’s creature comforts. All that was left was sex and sleep. He snorted as he straightened.
Sleep was possible. Sex? Not so much.
His choice.
Probably why he was so damn restless.
With a grunt, he set off in the direction of the ranch, Trident on his six.
He hadn’t been on a date since late summer. Just before Finn’s wedding, to be exact.
The day he ran into…her.
The blast from his past. The beauty who made him forgo duty, break rules…and pay the price with his buddies’ lives.
To be fair, Stacy hadn’t technically made him do a damn thing. It had all been on him. The crossing the line, brotherhood rule-breaking, it had all been Liam’s doing. He knew the consequences of dating another brother’s ex, and yet he hadn’t been able to resist her smile, her zest for life. Stacy was genuine, the real deal, and he’d been drawn to her like a damn magnet to steel.
Growing up with a father who had embraced all the political crap that went with running for D.A. then serving two consecutive four-year terms before switching sides to join a successful, powerful law firm had exposed Liam to a bunch of ass-kissers and backstabbers at an early age.
Stacy had been a breath of fresh air to his jaded mind and for an amazing few weeks, he’d soaked her in, happier than he’d been his entire life.
Even happier than he’d been with the first woman he’d loved.
But crossing that line with Stacy had tempted fate, enticed bad luck, which had shown up on the very first mission he caught after they’d started dating. Liam had jinxed his team, jinxed their damn mission and it had blown up in their faces—literally—killing two of his buddies.
After that, he broke all contact with Stacy, too full of guilt, too messed up in his heart and his head to even look at her. Yeah, it was a dick move. She’d certainly deserved better, but he’d learned his lesson.
No more tempting fate.
He just hoped to God the fact they worked on the same ranch wouldn’t invite disaster. So far, almost two months into his four-month stay, things had gone smoothly. Could be attributed to the fact he’d barely said five words to the woman, keeping a wide berth, only offering the occasional nod in greeting. His fingers were crossed that his remaining stay would continue to go disaster-free.
At that moment, the wind picked up and falling leaves swirled in the air. A perfect depiction of the turmoil in his head.
Or was it a warning?
The brush of a wet nose met his hand. Liam glanced down to find Trident walking by his side, looking up at him, his gaze intense.
Worried.
“Hey, buddy,” he said, stopping to kneel in front of the dog, who immediately leaned closer. Damn. His dark mood was affecting Trident. “It’s okay. I’m okay.” He rubbed Trident’s neck and shoulders while slowing his pulse and willing his anxiety to subside.
A few seconds later, Trident licked him.
Liam laughed. “See? It’s all good. Let’s keep moving.”
By the time they exited the woods and started across the field dotted with guest cabins, Liam’s adrenaline had subsided, giving way to the aches, pains, and fatigue it had held at bay. Now wasn’t the time to pass out. He still had to make it to his cabin, feed his dog, then call one of the Brennans to inform them about the trespassing hiker.
As he continued forward, he took in the view, allowing the tranquility and calm of Royal Pines to work its magic.
Smoke spiraled from several guest cabins and streaked the dimming sky as the sun set and twilight neared. In the distance, bright lights twinkled out of the main guest lodge, the large log hotel appearing tiny against the backdrop of another giant Colorado mountain jutting up behind i
t. Wind gusted out of the west, carrying the scent of burning wood along with the soft neighing of horses, no doubt anticipating their dinner in the sizable stable attached to the corral just past the cabins.
A sense of peace whispered through Liam. He inhaled then blew out a slow breath. This place was a soothing balm for ragged souls, and he was damn grateful the Brennan brothers had chosen him to bring to life their vision for an expansion that would accommodate veterans and their families.
Between donations, grants, and their own investment, the twins had contracted Liam to build an additional guest wing at the main lodge, twelve more cabins, and another stable and corral, all with veteran’s physical and mental needs in mind.
It was his honor, and in a sense, a way to give back, to give of himself, to make amends to the universe in a roundabout way. It felt good knowing he was doing his part to help make a vacation a possibility for some veteran and civilian families with special needs.
Back in August, when Liam had written up the bid, he’d included payroll for his workers, but no salary for himself. Nor would his company make a profit.
Material.
Permits.
Payroll.
As long as they were covered, he was good to go.
Liam didn’t need the pay. He had a sizable bank account. Besides, the Brennans put him up in a cabin for his stay. At his request, they’d given him the one furthest from the lodge and closest to the woods. It was better for Trident.
Better for him.
The Brennans also gave him free rein of the facilities, and had insisted he order whatever he wanted in the lodge restaurant.
What more could he want?
Trident let out a low bark and Liam glanced in the direction of what caught his dog’s attention. The silhouette of a woman—a very familiar silhouette—walked onto the lit porch of one of the cabins.
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