Protector (Copper Mesa Eagles Book 3) by Roxie Noir, Amelie Hunt

way,” he said.
    “You want me to call you slugger?” Ellie teased.
    “I’m not jealous,” Garrett said, trying to frown. He could tell it wasn’t quite working. “You just flirted with some guy on my behalf. Why would that make me jealous?”
    “You tell me, slugger,” Ellie said.
    Garrett opened his mouth again, but the laptop chimed, and he turned to look at it.
    Line by line, a scanned document came up on the screen.

Chapter Six

    Ellie
    Don’t flirt with your client , Ellie reminded herself.
    Is he really your client? She thought, watching the dimples sink into Garrett’s face as he teased her. You’re in his apartment, breaking the law to help him out.  
    The computer chimed, and she turned to look at it.
    I hope I get paid for this, though , she thought. I’ve still got bills, no matter how sexy my problems are.
    With incredible, excruciating slowness, the form on the laptop screen resolved.
    “Is your internet two tin cans strung together?” Ellie asked.
    “It’s Mistin County, not me,” Garrett protested.
    Before she could say anything else, it came through. Even though she’d only wanted one page, Nate Plotkin had sent all fifty pages of the document, so Ellie waded through it, scanning names quickly.
    “You really got this dude wrapped around your little finger,” Garrett muttered, but Ellie tapped the screen with one finger before he could get any further.
    Under Principal Shareholder , there was one name.  
    “Pierce Boudreaux,” Ellie said out loud.
    Silence. She turned to look at Garrett, who looked back, his face a blank.
    “Nothing?” she asked.
    He just shook his head.
    “No,” he said. “I’ve never seen that name before.”
    They stared at each other.
    “Shit,” Garrett finally said. “What if I’m wrong? What if this is all... weird coincidence, and no one’s really after my family?”
    “It’s a lot of coincidence,” Ellie said.
    “How can this guy be a total mystery ? Are you sure that’s the right paperwork?”
    Ellie scanned through it all again.
    “BTVS, Dutch Antilles,” she said. She spun the screen so it faced Garrett. “Is that all right?”
    He read slowly, the screen lighting his face.
    “Yeah,” he finally said. “That’s it.”
    Ellie felt deflated. She’d hoped for something big from this name, the name of the man who was chasing Garrett and his family, and instead there was nothing. No ‘aha!’ moment, just the two of them wondering, who’s that ?
    Quit it, she thought. This happens every day. Fucking Google it .

    * * *

    Three hours later, Garrett stood, rubbed his eyes, and ran his hand through his hair.
    “What time is it?” Ellie asked.
    He looked at the microwave clock.
    “Six fifteen,” he said. “You hungry?”
    “I could eat,” Ellie said, then drew a finger slowly along the countertop.
    “I need to go home at some point, too,” she said.
    “No,” said Garrett, crouching in front of a cabinet, pulling a pot out.
    “Excuse me?” Ellie said.
    Garrett stood and put the pot on the counter.
    “It’s dangerous,” he said. “Someone broke into your office. What if they break into your apartment?”
    “I can take care of myself,” Ellie said, bristling a little. “There’s a gun in my purse right now . You may remember it from the time I pointed it at you this morning.”
    “I promise I haven’t forgotten,” Garrett said. “But by now, they — this Boudreaux guy and whoever’s working with him — they know you’re here, which they’ve figured out means you haven’t stopped working on the Monson case.”
    “I can’t stay here ,” she said.
    “I’ll sleep on the couch,” Garrett said. “It’s fine.”
    “What about tomorrow?” Ellie said. “I don’t live here. I have a business to run, I have other clients, I don’t even have clean clothes .”
    What have I gotten myself into? she wondered. Is it too late to just... back out?
    She thought of the note in her desk drawer again, and the fury rose