A Real Cowboy Always Protects by Stephanie Rowe

Chapter Two

The elevatorstill smelled like Skylar.

Logan grinned as he leaned back against the wall, letting the faint scent of Skylar's shampoo drift through him.

Damn, he was glad he'd gotten bored of waiting for the up elevator and decided to jump on the one going down. The minute those doors had slid open and he'd seen Skylar lounging against the wall, looking at her phone, all the chaos inside him had settled. Just like that.

She'd looked so adorable in her massive sweatshirt and fuzzy slippers. Her leggings had given him a good view of her calves and lower thighs, and he'd liked what he'd seen. She had just enough curves to make a man feel like the universe had given him a gift.

Logan inhaled again. The floral scent of her shampoo reminded him of the wildflowers back home, stretching out endlessly for miles on the plains of Wyoming.

He'd left all that behind a long time ago for a career that let him make a difference.

He had no interest in going back to his old life, to the past that had left him with more scars than he could heal.

But whenever he saw Skylar, she reminded him of the good things about his past, about Rogue Valley, Wyoming, where he'd learned to ride horses, muck stalls, and appreciate freedom.

He knew he couldn't allow things to become personal with Skylar, but tonight, he'd come close to crossing that line. She had that effect on him, like some magical fairy darting around him sprinkling glitter on his soul.

His job required him to stay solo, to minimize all personal relationships, to keep people at a distance.

But Skylar tempted him.

Hell, she was more than a temptation. She was the sparkle that he used to bring himself back when the shit got too real for him.

The universe always put her in his path when he needed her, and tonight was no exception.

His workout hadn't cleared his mind.

But seeing Skylar, with her hands on her hips, giving him shit? Talking about dating his cat? The darkness had left for that moment, and she'd given him the gift of her smile.

Dating Skylar. The thought had sunk hard and fast into his gut as soon as she'd mentioned it, in her light-hearted, teasing way. It had felt right, the first thing that had felt that right in a long, long time.

It would be so easy to let himself fall under her spell, to pretend he was someone other than he was. She made him want to be the guy who could do that, who could make that choice.

He'd almost invited her up for coffee, but when he'd seen her smiling at him, those gorgeous blue eyes and glorious blond hair, he'd stopped himself. She was too nice, too genuine, too alive.

He couldn’t risk Skylar by bringing her into his world, his secret world that not even his own brothers knew about.

Because if he did, she might die. Or, he might die, and leave her alone.

And there was no way in hell he was going to let anything happen to the one bright spot in his life.

To keep her alive and whole, Logan had to keep her at a distance, and that was that.

No matter how much he wanted it to be otherwise.

Skylar's heart was pounding as she hurried back into her building, a coffee cup in each hand. Was she really going to knock on Logan's door?

Maybe.

Maybe not.

She wanted to.

But he was a stranger. A neighbor. Maybe he didn't feel any of that intensity that she felt when she was around him.

Or maybe he did. He'd almost laughed at the idea of her dating his cat. That glint in his eyes had knocked all the resistance out of her.

She was doing it. If mailroom encounters became totally awkward forever after, then fine. Life was too freaking short, as evidenced by the fact that her dad was buried, and her mom was fading away.

Not her. Not her.

Skylar noticed suddenly that the elevator door was closing. She could see someone was already inside, so she picked up her pace.

"Hold the elevator," she called out, but the doors continued to slide shut. "Hey!" She waved her arm between the doors, sloshing coffee as the doors slid back open.

There were two men on the elevator. Men about Logan's age, but wearing all black, as if they were geared up for some night-climbing up the side of her building. They were lean. Fit. Capable.

One of them glared at her, and she saw coffee was dripping off his tight, black jacket. "Yikes. Sorry. I have some napkins. Let me get them for you."

He held up his hand. "Don't worry about it."

"No, seriously, I have napkins—"

"Stop." His tight, clipped command shut her up immediately. His face was hard, his eyes a vibrant green. But what really caught her attention was the star-shaped scar on his right cheek. It was at least two inches in diameter, a strident marking on his skin. It was a scar that meant business.

"Yeah, sure, okay." She retreated to the far side of the elevator, and started whistling under her breath, trying to diffuse the mounting tension.

Neither man looked at her. Instead, they stood side by side, arms held loosely by their hips. They were both wearing black baseball hats, and their heads were angled down, so it was difficult to see their faces. She couldn't even see the scar on the one man's face from that angle.

The hairs on the back of her neck began to prickle, and her heart began to pound. There was something not right about them. Dangerous.

By the time the elevator reached her floor, she practically leapt out, desperate to get away from them.

But they walked out after her.

And they followed her as she hurried down the hall.

She was almost running, but they were walking with easy, controlled strides, looking around as they walked.

She'd never seen them before in the building. Did they live there?

They followed her as she turned the corner to her hallway.

She knew everyone on her hallway. They definitely didn't live there.

Her pulse was thundering as she walked faster. Any doubt about whether she was going to offer Logan coffee was gone now. There was no way she was going into her own condo, where the two men could slip in after her before she could close the door.

Skylar hurried to Logan's door. She was just raising her hand to knock when the two men stopped behind her. She paused, looking over her shoulder. "Are you here to see Logan?"

They both had their heads down, but the one with the scar on his face raised his head slightly to look at her. "You know him?"

"Sort of." What the hell was going on? She was so unnerved she could barely think straight. She stepped back. "If you're here to see him, you go on. I can talk to him later."

Did these men have something to do with Logan's work? Because if they did, suddenly, she wasn't so sure she wanted to hand coffee off to him and hunker down on his couch to share stories about being stuck in life.

The man with the scar gestured toward Logan's door. "After you."

"No, I think I'm good." She backed up to her door and leaned against it. Not unlocking it, but ready to retreat as soon as the coast was clear.

The two men looked at each other, then the one with the scar suddenly pulled out a gun and aimed it at her. "Knock on his door."

Holy shit.Skylar froze in sudden terror, unable to drag her gaze off the gun pointed at her face.

"Knock on his door," the man repeated.

Tears started to burn in her eyes. Knock on his door? The men would kill Logan. And her. She'd seen movies. This never ended well for the innocent bystander.

"Now. If you warn him, you die." He raised his gun and pressed it against her forehead. She could feel the cold metal against her skin. Holy triple shit.

"Well, who wants to die, right?" Her hands shaking, she edged toward Logan's door.

The men moved up beside the door on either side of her, so that Logan wouldn't be able to see them. Scarface had his gun pointed at her head, and the other man was watching the door.

Dear God. They were definitely here to kill Logan. What the hell? The man had almost laughed at her cat joke. Treasures like that were few and far between. She wanted him alive.

Scarface nodded at her and gestured to the door.

Skylar's mouth was so dry she could barely swallow. She tucked one coffee against her chest, using her forearm to hold it, and then used her free hand to knock on the door. Her hand was shaking so badly she barely managed to get her knuckles to hit the pristine white door.

"Logan?" she called out in a slightly strangled voice as she straightened out the coffee cups. "It's Skylar. Charlie was out of the brownie you wanted, so I just have the coffee you asked me to get."

It wasn't the most brilliant code she'd ever come up with, but in the movies, it always worked to alert the person inside, mostly because the person inside was usually well-versed in spy happenings.

She could only hope that if Logan had people standing at his door with guns, that he qualified as sufficiently well-versed to save her life and his.

Logan didn't answer.

What if he was in bed? Or the shower?

The shower. He probably looked fantastic in the shower.

If she were going to die, thinking of Logan in the shower was a great last thought.

Scarface flicked the gun at her, indicating for her to knock again.

She tucked the cup under her arm again, and knocked a second time. This time more loudly. "Logan," she yelled. "It's Skylar. Come get your damned coffee that you asked me to get, because I'm tired and I don't want to be your servant anymore just because you're hot."

She grinned at Scarface. "That should do it."