Van, Becca - Her Ex-Marines [Slick Rock 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Read online

  Slick Rock 3

  Her Ex-Marines

  Rachel Lamb is on the run from the law. She is exhausted, hungry, and down to her last few hundred dollars after meandering for nearly six months from Miami to Slick Rock, Colorado. She applies for the position of secretary at the sheriff's department and sends up an alert when she asks to be paid cash in hand.

  Sheriff Damon Osborn is horrified when he inadvertently learns what has happened to Rachel and vows to protect her with his life. He offers her a place to stay, knowing his brothers will be as attracted to the small woman as he is. The three Osborn brothers, Damon, Tyson, and Sam, have recently finished serving as marines and vow to keep Rachel safe using all their military training.

  Rachel is kidnapped. Her life is in the balance. Will the three Osborn men save her in time? Or will justice fall by the wayside?

  Genre: Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Western/Cowboys

  Length: 34,896 words

  HER EX-MARINES

  Slick Rock 3

  Becca Van

  MENAGE EVERLASTING

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  ABOUT THE E-BOOK YOU HAVE PURCHASED: Your non-refundable purchase of this e-book allows you to only ONE LEGAL copy for your own personal reading on your own personal computer or device. You do not have resell or distribution rights without the prior written permission of both the publisher and the copyright owner of this book. This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload to a file sharing peer to peer program, for free or for a fee, or as a prize in any contest. Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden. If you do not want this book anymore, you must delete it from your computer.

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting

  HER EX-MARINES

  Copyright © 2011 by Becca Van

  E-book ISBN: 1-61926-016-6

  First E-book Publication: November 2011

  Cover design by Les Byerley

  All art and logo copyright © 2011 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  Letter to Readers

  Dear Readers,

  If you have purchased this copy of Her Ex-Marines by Becca Van from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

  Regarding E-book Piracy

  This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.

  The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.

  This is Becca Van’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Van’s right to earn a living from her work.

  Amanda Hilton, Publisher

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  www.BookStrand.com

  DEDICATION

  To Diana, Kristen and Lena, for giving me a chance and for all their hard work and expertise.

  Also to my daughter, Jessica. Reach for those dreams and don’t let anything stand in your way and stop you from achieving them.

  HER EX-MARINES

  Slick Rock 3

  BECCA VAN

  Copyright © 2011

  Chapter One

  Rachel Lamb glanced in her rearview mirror once more, just to assure herself she wasn’t being followed. She had been on the run for the last five and a half months, and was so tired she could barely keep her eyes open. She needed a shower, sleep, and some decent food. She saw the sign indicating she was five miles from the country town of Slick Rock, Colorado. She glanced in her mirrors again, indicated, and changed lanes.

  Ten minutes later, Rachel pulled into the parking lot of the Slick Rock Motel and entered the reception office. She needed a bed to crash in for at least the next twenty-four hours. She had spent the last week existing on a couple of hours sleep a night, junk food, and adrenaline. She was on the verge of collapse and knew it was only a matter of time before her body shut down on her.

  “How may I help you?” asked the young woman behind the counter.

  “I’d like to book a room, please. I’ll be paying with cash. Is that all right?” Rachel asked.

  “Sure, no problem.”

  Rachel handed the cash over for her room and took the key from the young woman. She exited the door, walked to her car, grabbed her overnight bag, and entered her temporary accommodation. The first thing she did was shower, then crawled into bed and was sound asleep moments later.

  Rachel woke feeling more energized than she had for the last week. It was amazing what a good night’s sleep did for one’s disposition and energy level. She got into her car and drove back down the main street of Slick Rock, looking for a place to eat breakfast. She parked in a parking lot outside the local diner, exited her car, and entered the cafe. She took a seat at the window and ordered a breakfast of bacon, eggs, and toast, as well as a cup of coffee. Once done eating, she left her money with a tip on the table and walked out the door, looking up and down the street. It was still pretty early, so there weren’t many people around.

  Rachel breathed in the scent of pure, crisp, clean country air. It was so nice to be able to breathe without smog choking her lungs for a change. She didn’t really know where she was going and didn’t want to have to spend the rest of her life on the run, but she didn’t have much of an option at the moment. There was no way she could go back home. She probably wouldn’t live through another twelve hours if she did.

  Rachel needed to find herself a job, somewhere she would be paid cash in hand, leaving no paper trail behind. She turned on her heel and walked up Main Street, taking notice of what the town had to offer in the way of convenience stores. She crossed the road and walked down the other side of the walkway, looking into shop windows.

  Rachel was walking back toward her car when she noticed a help-wanted ad in the far corner of the window of the diner. She moved closer to read the notice.

  Help wanted:

  Receptionist/administrative assistant needed to work in the local sheriff’s office. For inquiries, please call Sheriff Luke Sun-Walker at 555-7986 or head to the sheriff’s office.

  Rachel felt her heart pounding in her chest and wondered if she could actually walk into the sheriff’s office and apply for the position. She stood studying the sign while her brain raced at a rapid pace. Deciding she had nothing to lose and everything to gain, she hurried to her car.


  Rachel stared at the sheriff’s office building, took a few deep breaths, and let them out slowly. She had to find a way to keep the panic at bay. The last thing she wanted was for the sheriff to be suspicious of her. She exited her car, walked up the steps to the door, took another deep breath, and entered. There was no one in sight of the counter, which Rachel took as a reprieve and turned to exit the building.

  “May I help you, ma’am?” a deep, raspy voice asked from behind her.

  Rachel jumped and spun around, her heart pounding out a rapid tattoo. She looked at the massive chest covered in a khaki shirt, swallowed convulsively, and looked up, and up and up, until she was looking into dark-green eyes. She opened her mouth to speak then closed it again when no words formed. The man standing before her was tall, really tall, at least six foot four. He had shoulder-length blond hair, massive broad shoulders, and his face was ruggedly handsome with a square, chiseled jaw, tanned skin, and prominent cheekbones. He looked to be around thirty years old, and he seemed to ooze testosterone, making her want to jump his bones. He was masculinity personified.

  “Uh, I was inquiring about the help-wanted ad,” Rachel replied.

  “Sure. Come on through.” He held a small gate open for her to enter behind the counter. “I’m one of Slick Rock’s local sheriffs, Damon Osborn.”

  “Rachel, Rachel Lamb,” she replied as she took the sheriff’s proffered hand. The feel of the sheriff’s large hand engulfing her small, pale hand sent tingles of awareness chasing up her spine. She felt her nipples harden and her pussy clench, begging for the emptiness to be filled. She quickly withdrew her hand and moved a few paces away from the sheriff before turning to face him.

  He was staring at her as if she were a last meal to a starving man. Rachel swallowed, knowing the sheriff had heard her loud gulp when the corners of his mouth tilted up. He perused her from head to foot, then back again, making Rachel shift uncomfortably from foot to foot. Her eyes rose to meet his, and she wondered if he had felt or seen her nervous apprehension when he wiped all expression from his face.

  “Follow me, ma’am,” Damon threw over his shoulder, then turned and led the way down the small hallway.

  Rachel watched the sheriff ease into a seat behind his desk then indicate with his hand for her to take the chair opposite. She sat down on the edge of the cushion, her purse clutched in her lap, fidgeting with the handles.

  “How old are you, Rachel Lamb?” Sheriff Damon Osborn’s voice caressed over her, making her want to shiver again.

  “I’m twenty-two, Sheriff. I’ve had experience working as a secretary and know I can do the job,” Rachel stated, lifting her chin to the sheriff, waiting for him to refute her claim. She knew she looked a lot younger than her years. She had been told many times and hoped the sheriff wasn’t going to ask for proof of age.

  * * * *

  “Hm. The hours are 8:00 a.m. till 4:00 p.m. Monday to Friday. You may be called to work the occasional Saturday morning, but that rarely happens. If we hire you for the position, you have to work out a three-month probationary period. If all goes well, then you’d need to sign a contract of employment. Of course, we’ll need your social security number, bank account number, et cetera. When can you start?” His eyes once again raked over the small woman before him.

  She was such a little thing compared to him and his brothers. She couldn’t be more than five foot five inches. Her skin was a smooth, creamy white, her hair as black as night and shimmering with blue highlights beneath the artificial light in his office. She had curves in all the right places. He wanted to strip her naked, let his hands roam over her delectable curves, then fuck her until neither of them could walk straight. The most prominent features on the sexy woman before him were her eyes. Her eyes reminded him of a wolf’s. They were such a light blue and seemed to pierce him, right to his soul.

  “Um, I–I was hoping I could get paid cash. Y–you see, I–I have had trouble with banks before and don’t trust them,” Rachel said, her eyes sliding away from Damon and to her left.

  “Hm, I’d have to ask the most senior sheriff about that. I’ve only been in this county for a couple of months. Hold on a minute, and I’ll go check with Sheriff Luke Sun-Walker,” Damon stated, then rose to his feet and left the room, closing the door behind him.

  Damon had no idea what the little woman was hiding, but he had picked up on her lie about her trouble with banks. He intended to get his new partner, Luke, to check Rachel Lamb out before he offered her the job. He was going to have to figure out how to keep her occupied until he got the information he wanted from Luke. He tapped on Luke’s office door, entering when he heard Luke call him in.

  “What’s up, Damon?” Luke asked with a frown, still looking at his desk computer.

  “I’ve got a Rachel Lamb in my office applying for the secretarial job, but she wants to be paid cash. If I had to guess, I’d say she’s hesitant about handing over her social security and bank account details. I was wondering if you could run a check on her, just to make sure we’re not harboring a criminal, if you let me hire her, that is.” Damon ran his hand over his face with impatience.

  “What’s your gut telling you, Damon?” Luke asked, leaning back in his chair.

  “My gut is telling me she’s not a criminal, but she is on the run from someone or something. My instinct is telling me she doesn’t want to leave a paper trail.”

  “Hm, okay. I’ve been trying to get these letters typed up, and since I can’t type, it’s taking me hours. Why not ask Rachel to prove her skills by getting her to type up these letters for me at the front desk? I’ll see if I can get a hold of her wallet and driver’s license to run a check on her,” Luke replied.

  “Thanks, boss,” Damon said and began to exit Luke’s office.

  “How many times do I have to tell you I’m not your boss?” Luke asked with a scowl.

  Damon didn’t bother to answer. He just grinned and left Luke’s office, a stack of letters in his hand.

  Damon saw Rachel jump when he opened the office door. He figured she must have been daydreaming, as her eyes still had a bit of that faraway, glazed look about them. When he saw her cheeks flame red, he wanted to ask her what she’d been thinking about, but he kept his mouth closed when she lowered her eyes to the floor.

  “Are you all right, Rachel?” Damon asked, staring at her flushed cheeks and wondering why she startled so easily.

  “Um, yes, thanks. I just didn’t hear you coming back, is all.”

  “Well, as long as you’re okay. Luke wants you to type up these letters for him, to show him your secretarial skills. Once you’re done, then we can let you know if you have the job or not.”

  “Okay. Do I use your computer?” Rachel asked, placing her purse on the floor and reaching out for the letters.

  “No, you can use one out near reception.” Damon watched as Rachel bent down to retrieve her purse, cursing under his breath. “Why don’t you leave your purse there? It’s not like anyone in here would steal it.”

  “Um,” Rachel said hesitantly then straightened up. “Okay, lead the way, Sheriff.”

  “Damon.”

  “What?” Rachel asked as she followed him back down the hallway.

  “My name is Damon, not Sheriff. Here you go. This was the computer the last secretary used. Hopefully all the software is up to date. We don’t get much happening around here other than a few drunks on the weekends, the occasional car accident, but things seem to be picking up since the population of the town is growing. More and more city folks are moving out to the country for peace and quiet, and we seem to be getting busier, the more people arrive.”

  “I can’t say I blame them. The country is so much nicer than city life. People tend to be a lot friendlier, and the air is so much cleaner,” Rachel said as she started the computer.

  “I’ll leave you to it. Just give a holler when you’re done.”

  Damon arrived back in his office to see Luke sitting behind his desk,
staring at his computer screen. He saw Luke glance his way then back down to the monitor, his jaw clenched tight, his face grim. Instead of telling Damon what’d he’d found, Luke removed himself from Damon’s chair so he could see for himself.

  “Son of a bitch,” Damon hissed from between his teeth when he saw the BOLO, “Be On Look Out,” on Rachel’s name as a person who might be a witness in a drive-by shooting. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The more he read, the more the hair on his nape stood on end. There was no way in hell he was letting Rachel run from him. He vowed to himself then and there, he would protect her with his own life. “Why the fuck isn’t she in witness protection? What were those assholes in that city thinking? Goddamn it, I can’t believe this shit.”

  “I called a friend of mine in Miami, Matt Livingston. He’s a cop, one I would trust with my life. Matt’s brother, Josh, is a retired cop. Matt said it was a coincidence that Rachel had hired Josh as a bodyguard for her mom, to keep her safe. Rachel told him everything, even let him listen to the recorded conversations she had with the Police Commissioner, and of course, he passed it on to Matt. Matt has been working day and night trying to find evidence against the Chief of Police, but so far has come up with nothing. He covered his tracks too well. The only way he’s going down is by Rachel, and with the threat to her and her mom, she’s too scared to testify. I hate the fact that I’ve just run a check on her. I’ve probably just alerted half the Miami police force where she is.