Page 56 of Cowboy Elite 2: Mike

"Folks don’t usually come into the staff area to take photos." Kenny's voice was flat, dangerous. He held out his hand palm up. “Any photo you take, I own the copyright to. Give me your phone.”

Harris hesitated. “I’ll delete them.”

Kenny’s smile was dangerous. “Forgive me if I don’t trust you.”

“He’s like that,” Joe said, reaching for the phone in Harris’s hand and taking it before the man knew what had happened. “Doesn’t trust anyone. Probably why it made it so easy for him to kill his best bud. Nasty business, I tell you.” Joe said it nonchalantly without looking up, and all the while his fingers were busy over the key pad of the phone. Not only did he delete the photos of Liv and the ranch, he changed a couple of settings on the phone. Settings that would give him access.

“Mind telling us who you are?” Satisfied with his handiwork, he handed back the phone.

Harris had the grace not to pretend ignorance. He slipped his phone into his pocket and leaned against the workbench, casual but watchful.

“I was hired to locate Olivia Langford and report her whereabouts.”

“Who is Olivia Langford?” Joe asked.

“I thought maybe you could tell me.”

“We don’t have anyone by that name here.”

Harris stared at Joe. "You know I'm just doing my job," he said.

“Why are you looking for this woman? What did she do?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t ask questions, just accepted the assignment.”

“What led you to our ranch?”

“I was given the address. Told to get confirmation. Beyond that, I got no stake in the outcome.”

"Must be nice," Joe said coldly, "having no moral compass to weigh you down."

"It pays the bills." Harris pushed off the workbench. "Look, I don't have a problem with you boys. And I don't particularly care about Olivia Langford one way or another. But I've got a client who's paying very well for information, and I intend to deliver."

"Not from this property, you won't," Kenny said.

Joe intervened. “Good luck in your search. If we hear of anybody by that name, we’ll let you know.”

Kenny slammed his fist against the workbench hard enough to rattle the tools hanging on the wall. "We should've held him," he said.

"For what?" Joe's voice was tired. "Being an asshole isn't illegal. Neither is being a private investigator. And if we escorted him off the property, we’d just be confirming everything he suspects. Besides, I changed some settings on his phone. I’m going to do a little snooping of my own,"

Liv was rolling out another batch of dough when Mike found her, hands moving mechanically, eyes distant.

He stood in the doorway for a moment, just watching her. She'd braided her hair back, but strands had escaped to frame her face. There was flour on her cheek and tension in every line of her body.

She was terrified. And still here. Still baking. Still fighting.

God, he loved her.

The realization hit him like a two-ton bull on a rampage, sudden and absolute and completely unavoidable.

He loved her.

And he was going to do whatever it took to keep her safe.

"Liv."

She startled, spinning toward him with the rolling pin raised like a weapon.