Conceal: Lincoln E-Book

Willow Fox

• Herausgeber: Slow Burn Publishing
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Beschreibung

I can’t tell her she’s under my protection…
I’ve been employed as a bodyguard in the past with Eagle Tactical for celebrities, musicians, even billionaires. I’ve never had any of them evade my protection. The little Vixen that stormed into my life ended up as my responsibility.
I’ve been hired to protect her…in secret.
The studio contract is clear, I am not allowed to divulge to her that I’m her personal bodyguard when she leaves the set.
She will find out the truth and when she does she will hate me.
Conceal: Lincoln is book three in Eagle Tactical and features a hero that you already know and love from the series along with Ariella and Jaxson’s story leading toward their HEA. It is highly recommended that you read the series in order.

Leseprobe

CONCEAL: LINCOLN

EAGLE TACTICAL BOOK THREE

WILLOW FOX

Conceal: Lincoln

Eagle Tactical Book THREE

Willow Fox

Published by Slow Burn Publishing

© 2021

Cover by GetCovers

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

ABOUT THE BOOK

I can’t tell her she’s under my protection…

I’ve been employed as a bodyguard in the past with Eagle Tactical for celebrities, musicians, even billionaires. I’ve never had any of them evade my protection.

The little Vixen that stormed into my life ended up as my responsibility.

I’ve been hired to protect her…in secret.

The studio contract is clear, I am not allowed to divulge to her that I’m her personal bodyguard when she leaves the set.

She will find out the truth and when she does she will hate me.

CONCEAL is book three in Eagle Tactical and features a hero that you already know and love from the series along with Ariella and Jaxson’s story leading toward their HEA. It is highly recommended that you read the series in order.

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Epilogue

Giveaways, Free Books, and More Goodies

About the Author

Also by Willow Fox

CHAPTERONE

Lincoln

Exhaustion didn’t even begin to explain the weariness behind my gaze.

I stumbled into the town coffee shop.

The bell jingled on the door as I entered, and the aroma of coffee beans gave me my first fix of the morning like a drug.

I needed more.

“Next,” the girl behind the counter snapped.

Without my morning cup of coffee yet, I hadn’t had the jolt to wake me. I stammered forward up to the counter. “Hey, Skylar.”

Since when did she work here? Last I heard, she came to visit her older brother in town.

Apparently, she wasn’t leaving anytime soon.

“What can I get for you?” she asked.

She stood behind the counter wearing a brown apron and matching hat.

While I felt fatigued, her eyes softened, and the corners of her lips quirked up when she seemed to recognize me.

“Hey, Lincoln, right?”

“Yes,” I said as my gaze glanced over the chalkboard behind her with the list of available drinks and specials.

The owner always liked to change it up, and there was never a plain black coffee on the menu.

“What do you recommend?” Making a decision took too much effort at this hour.

“Brewing your coffee at home,” Skylar said. “The coffee here is way overpriced but don’t tell my boss I said that, or I’ll get fired.”

I snorted under my breath. “Noted. I’ll have whatever’s strong and make it black.”

I couldn’t deal with sugar at this early hour.

The sun hadn’t even come up yet, and while I should have been in bed, I still had another hour until I usually woke up.

I hadn’t been able to sleep, and with the recent shooting at the restaurant, my coffee maker had been toast.

Sleep had eluded me, even on a Sunday morning when I should have been able to relax and take the day off.

Stress didn’t typically bother me, but after two mobsters had gunned down the restaurant, I was on high alert, ready on a whim. It resulted from my time in the military that forced me to be up at a moment’s notice.

Skylar tapped away at the register before I shoved my credit card into the chip reader to pay.

A blonde stepped forward with giant sunglasses on, the kind a woman wears to either hide a black eye or to try to conceal her identity. Both of those seemed plausible.

“Excuse me,” she said. “I ordered a coffee ten minutes ago.”

“It’s been five,” Skylar said, “and your drink is on the counter waiting for you to pick it up.”

“You didn’t call my name,” the woman wearing sunglasses said.

“Heather.”

“It’s Harper,” she said, correcting Skylar.

Skylar stepped to the side where the drink sat perched on the counter, waiting to be picked up. “Same difference. Do you want your coffee or not?”

Another barista worked on my drink while Harper stood, arms folded across her chest.

“You need to make me another latte,” Harper said. She unfolded her arms long enough to slide her sunglasses back up as they began to slip down her face.

“I don’t need to do anything, ma’am,” Skylar said. She turned and faced the register. “Next!”

The barista preparing my coffee headed over with the piping hot liquid and secured a lid to the cup. “Lincoln.”

Harper snatched the coffee before I could get my hands on it. “I’m going to be late.”

She stole my drink and stormed out of the shop, hurrying to her car.

“I hope she likes it black,” I muttered under my breath—what a perfect way to start my morning.

I should have stayed in bed.

* * *

I picked up lunch and drove over to Mason’s house to check up on him. It’d been a few weeks since he’d been shot by the mafia protecting his high school sweetheart, Hazel Agron.

Arriving at his house, before I could even lift my hand to the door, Hazel pounced. She was faster than their dog, Bear, that they’d adopted after Mason’s uncle passed.

Hazel yanked open the door and threw her arms around me. “Thank you for coming,” she whispered into my ear.

“Of course. I brought lunch,” I said and lifted the bag of Chinese food takeout to show what I’d fetched.

Hazel ushered me inside Mason’s house and shut the door.

I handed over the bag of food while I shucked off my coat and boots.

“Smells good,” Mason said with a grunt as he pushed himself up from the sofa. “What’d you bring?”

“Orange Beef, Sesame Chicken, Sweet and Sour Shrimp, Mongolia Beef, and a few appetizers. I wasn’t sure what everyone wanted, so I tried to get a variety,” I said.

I hadn’t wanted to come empty-handed, and Hazel had been busy looking after Mason. She deserved a meal she didn’t have to cook.

“I’m famished,” Mason said.

He sluggishly ambled toward the table, the injury of two bullets getting the better of him.

“How are the restaurant repairs coming?” Mason asked.

Hazel unveiled the contents of the brown paper bag with all the dishes while I rummaged through the drawers for silverware. There were already paper plates on the table and chopsticks along with plasticware for eating.

“Slow and practically non-existent,” I said. “Can I get you something to drink?”

I’d visited Mason over the years enough to have memorized not only the layout, but also where he kept everything in the cabinets.

“Water is good.”

I grabbed three glasses from the cabinet and filled each of them with water. “How have you been feeling?” I asked, turning to face Mason but still keeping an eye on the glass so that I didn’t make a mess.

“Tired, sore, I feel like I’ve been shot, twice.” Mason laughed and sat down with a gruffness that I hadn’t seen cross his face in the past.

He winced, trying to hide his obvious discomfort. “I’m feeling better already and anxious to get back to business.”

“Ready to kick me out of Eagle Tactical?” I asked, mildly joking with him. Jaxson, one of our other special force’s brothers, kept insisting I join the guys. We were all military brothers and had served together.

On occasion, I had helped them out when they needed an extra set of hands for a case or an assignment in the field.

“No, you’re staying. I just want to get back in the field with you again.”

The truth was that I loved the restaurant that I’d worked hard to make a success, but getting back to work there would still be a few months.

The restaurant needed a lot of repairs. The dining room had been trashed by the dozens of bullets that had rained down on the interior. I had an insurance agent working with me for the repairs, but it would take time.

I brought two glasses of water to the table for Hazel and Mason. I filled the third glass and set that down in front of my plate, taking a seat at the kitchen table.

“You look like you’re doing better,” I said. Being shot took time to heal, physical therapy to get a range of motion back, among other things.

Hazel remained quiet as she dished out her lunch on the plate in front of her.

Mason grunted. “I’m ready to get out of this house. No offense to Hazel,” he said and glanced at her. “You’ve done a wonderful job taking care of me. I’m just not used to having someone look after me.”

Hazel smiled and patted his good arm. “No offense taken, and I understand. I’d love to go out and get a drink, socialize.”

He’d always been independent, even with the ladies. I couldn’t remember Mason ever having a girlfriend live with him. He’d kept his relationships pretty quiet, though I’d seen him take a woman home once or twice from the bar.

“We should do that tonight,” Mason said.

“You’re not supposed to be drinking,” Hazel reminded him.

He grumbled under his breath.

“She’s right,” I said, stepping in to defend Hazel. “We all just want what’s best for you. If you’re on painkillers, you can’t be drinking.”

I took a sip of water and placed the glass back on the wooden table. “If you want to come out tonight for an hour, just to get out of the house, I can drive you home.”

The bar wasn’t that far from Mason’s place. It was too long a distance for him to walk after his injuries, but it wouldn’t take long for me to drop him off if he wanted to see the guys for an hour.

Anything longer, and I worried that he’d overdo it and tax himself. Mason wasn’t good at asking for help.

Mason took a bite of lunch, his gaze on the food in front of him.

I couldn’t tell if he was pleased with my suggestion or was going to ask me to leave.

“An hour’s better than nothing.”

“How about we all meet after dinner but a little on the early side?” Hazel asked. “That way, the bar won’t be as crowded.”

Her gaze met mine, and she didn’t have to say the real reason she wanted to meet earlier.

I sensed it already.

Mason would be too exhausted later in the evening.

He had dark circles under his eyes. His hair was messy, but that was probably more because he hadn’t showered today.

“That sounds good, and I’m sure the others will be on board with that too. I’ll text them and let them know to meet us at the bar at seven tonight,” I said.

I finished the last of my lunch.

Mason looked beat, and I didn’t want him to feel that he had to entertain me or be kept awake.

“Take a nap. I’ll see you tonight,” I said. I helped Hazel put the rest of the food away and into the fridge.

Mason disappeared down the hall and into his room to rest.

“How have you been doing?” I asked, keeping my voice low.

I didn’t want to disturb Mason or have him overhear our conversation.

“It’s been a lot,” Hazel said, her eyes trained on the kitchen table as she tossed the dirty paper plates into the trash bin.

I grabbed the few pieces of silverware and glasses and took the items to the sink to clean.

I didn’t want to leave a mess for her to deal with. She already had enough to do to take care of Mason.

“He appreciates your help and you being here, whether he tells it to you or not,” I said.

“I know,” Hazel said. She wiped down the table.

Standing in front of the sink, I waited for the tap water to run hot before I filled up the sink to wash the dishes from lunch and quite a few in the sink that had been left from breakfast.

“You don’t have to do the dishes.”

“I know,” I said. I didn’t budge from in front of the sink. Once the water grew warm, I plugged the drain and let the empty side of the sink fill with water.

Hazel pointed under the sink. “Dish soap is down there.”

“Thanks.” I already knew where Mason kept the soap. I opened the cabinet and retrieved the liquid. I squeezed a few drops into the sink. Suds formed as water poured in and made bubbles. “How are things between you and Mason?”

“Fine.” Hazel’s eyes widened as she glanced up at me. “Why? Did he say something?”

Her brow furrowed, and she shuffled her feet while she stood in the kitchen and seemed uncomfortable with my question.

I hadn’t meant to offend her or cause any drama between the two of them. “No, I just know that moving to a new city can be challenging, and the fact you don’t know anyone and are stuck taking care of Mason, it’s probably a lot to deal with on your own.”

“What are you, a psychologist?” Hazel asked. She folded her arms across her chest.

“No, I’m just used to being an ear for a lot of the guys. Mason used to talk about you a lot.”

Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything, but I found it hard to ignore the obvious fact that they both liked each other a lot.

At least I knew Mason liked Hazel. I didn’t want to see her push him away when he eventually could take care of himself again.

“He did?” Her voice caught in her throat. “About what?” She leaned against the kitchen counter, her gaze on me the entire time as I washed the dishes by hand.

“He always compared the girls he dated to you. He’d talk about how he was young and stupid and had let you go away to school.”

“I never went to college.”

“Oh.” I didn’t know what to say to that.

She was the girl he’d gone to boarding school with and compared every girl after to. While most of the guys hadn’t talked as openly about their pasts, Mason had regretted letting her go.

“I was supposed to,” Hazel said, “but it’s a long story, and I’d rather change the subject.”

“Sure.”

“Mason’s a good guy. It’s just a lot right now, taking care of him and trying to make him comfortable. I won’t even tell you how difficult it is to get him into the shower.”

I chuckled under my breath. “Mason’s a big guy.” He was twice the size of Hazel. “You’re not asking me to bathe him, are you?”

Hazel grinned. “Would you?”

“No.” I assumed she’d been joking, but I wasn’t taking any chances.

There were some lines we didn’t cross.

She scrunched her nose and laughed. “Damn. It was worth a shot.”

I finished the last of the dishes and left them on the drying rack, stacked to the brim. “Anything else you need help with around here? Other than bathing your boyfriend.”

Hazel shook her head. “I’ve got it. I’ll tidy up the place while Mason’s napping. I am looking forward to going out tonight. Don’t hold it against me if I get wasted.”

“As long as you don’t drive home.”

Her eyes shined with a glint of happiness, something that I hadn’t seen the entire time that I’d been over during lunch.

The thought of getting out and socializing seemed to have shifted her mood for the better. Hopefully, it would help Mason too.

* * *

I arrived early at the bar to make sure that I could grab a comfortable booth for all of us to sit together.

In the corner of the bar, there was a booth that would easily seat our crew.

I claimed it before anyone else could, and while I wanted a beer, I’d wait to step up to the bar until one of the other guys came and could watch our table.

“Jaxson!” I waved to him as he shuffled into the bar, glancing around for the rest of us.

“Where’s Ariella?” I asked as he scooted into the booth seat across from me.

His eyes narrowed.

“What? It’s just the two of us.” I already knew they were sleeping together, but the rest of the office wasn’t supposed to know.

He was her boss.

Technically, the entire Eagle Tactical team was Ariella’s boss, but Jaxson was sleeping with her.

They were also living together, but that wasn’t because they were involved. It had been a result of her house burning down months ago.

“I don’t know. Ariella will be here soon.” Jaxson rested his hands on the wood table. “We thought it’d be a good idea to show up separate.”

“Everything okay in paradise?”

I hadn’t noticed any drama, but they were good at hiding their relationship.

Which was ironic, since Jaxson had been testy and short-tempered for the brief time they’d worked together before they’d fallen into bed.

She made him happy, and if the other guys couldn’t see it, they were blind.

Jaxson nodded toward the door where Declan came through, along with Mason and Hazel trailing behind.

I scooted out of the booth. “I’ll get us drinks,” I said.

Already, the bar had grown crowded, and patrons waited for their drinks. I leaned against the bar, my hands clasped together, awaiting my turn.

A soft voice cleared her throat beside me as she hurried up to the bar and perched herself on the empty stool.

The coffee thief.

I gestured the bartender over to me next, but he hadn’t come and taken my drink order yet.

“You,” I said, landing my gaze on the girl who had snatched my hot coffee and left me grumpy earlier that morning.

She laughed under her breath and avoided my stare. Her long hair covered part of her face, hiding from me.

Was it on purpose?

The bartender headed over to me. “What can I get for you?” he asked.

“Let me buy you a drink,” Harper said, and she shifted on the barstool to face me.

I wanted to push the long strand of hair out of her eyes and behind her ear, but I kept my hands to myself. “I’ll have a beer,” I said to the bartender. “Whatever’s on tap.”

While I had come up to the bar to order drinks for the table, I found myself interested in the mysterious new girl who had shown up in Breckenridge.

Was she here on vacation like everyone else who didn’t live in the small town?

Harper retrieved her credit card from her wallet and slid it across the bar’s counter to the bartender. “It’s on me. I’ll have a screwdriver.”

The bartender poured my beer first and then went to work on making Harper a screwdriver.

While I wasn’t one to let a woman pay for my drinks or buy me dinner, Harper had gotten under my skin earlier that morning.

The least she could do was apologize, and since that wasn’t happening, I’d settle with a beer on tap.

“Thank you,” I said to her, sipping my beer. The barstool beside Harper was empty.

I glanced back at my friends. They were giving me a thumb’s up gesture when they noticed I spoke with Harper.

“It’s the least I can do after this morning,” Harper said. “I’m dangerous before I’ve had my coffee.”

I sat on the stool and shifted around to face her. “You and me both.”

She wasn’t the only one who dealt in danger, but I held my tongue.

She didn’t need to know about my life, who I was, or what I did for a living. I liked the mysterious factor for once.

Harper knew nothing about me, and I could keep it that way.

The bartender handed Harper her screwdriver, and she sipped the orange liquid, her eyes wincing with each taste.

Was she not used to the drink being strong? She had ordered vodka and orange juice.

“What are you doing in Breckenridge?” I asked.

Most tourists came in winter to the resort for skiing and snowboarding. We attracted watersports like rafting and kayaking in the summer, but spring typically was quiet and calm with newcomers.

“I’m here to blow up the town.”

CHAPTERTWO

Harper

I’d seen him enter the bar, the handsome man whose coffee I’d swiped earlier that morning at the coffee shop.

I couldn’t help the anger that sizzled through my veins while I waited for my caffeine fix.

It hadn’t been bad enough that the girl behind the register had been rude and overcharged me, she had also gotten my name wrong.

Then he’d strode in and smiled at her. One look, and she was putty to him.

Were they a couple?

Gross.

I wanted to puke. I also wanted my coffee really bad.

The barista was already preparing whatever the hell concoction he ordered, but mine was nowhere to be seen, and they hadn’t called my name to tell me it was ready.

I’d been a spoiled brat and snatched his hot coffee. I’d done it dozens of times on the studio set, but this wasn’t a movie studio. I’d been stupid and rude.

And the coffee was awful. Bitter and black. I deserved it.

I’d spent the day in my motel room.

I hadn’t rented a place at the resort where I’d read the accommodations had been far more luxurious.

My agent set me up at the shithole so no one would recognize me.

It sucked.

My day had gone from bad that morning with no coffee, to worse when I discovered that the studio executives had opted to hire a private security team to keep me out of trouble.

I liked trouble.

At least that’s what the studio and the tabloids wrote.

I’d made a reputation for myself as The Vixen. It hadn’t been hard, and my agent had told me that no publicity was bad publicity.

Was that true?

It had landed me quite a few new movie roles, and I’d been mentioned on all the entertainment shows and magazines on a semi-regular basis.

I was the girl your mother warned you about. The one who stole your boyfriend and slept with a man just to toy with him.

Except that wasn’t the real me.

I could still count the number of men I’d slept with in my lifetime on one hand.

I was shy, introverted, and hated being alone.

The rest was an act. It was a good thing I was an actress and a damned good one.

I’d had the world fooled, and somewhere along the way I’d fooled myself into believing I’d been happy.

I sat at a lonely table, nursing a vodka and orange juice—a screwdriver.

I wanted to appear tough. I couldn’t drink anything girly, even though it’s what I’d have preferred.

At any moment, someone could recognize me and snap a picture of Harper Madison. It would be on all of social media in a matter of minutes. I had to tread carefully.

When I saw him stalk into the bar with a purpose, he strode over and sat down at the booth in the corner, the largest booth there was.

I couldn’t help but stare at him, transfixed.

I wanted to go over, strike up a conversation and apologize for being a brat earlier, but I couldn’t move from my position.

His name was Lincoln. At least that had been the name on his coffee cup unless the girl had gotten his name wrong too?

His friends showed up, and eventually, he headed to the bar for a drink. That was my excuse, my chance to talk to him, which led me to a bad joke and the concern that he might have me arrested.

He’d been polite, and I’d earned his attention after buying him a beer. It was the least I could do, and while I should have come out and apologized for my behavior that morning, I found it too difficult to voice the words.

“What are you doing in Breckenridge?” he asked.

“I’m here to blow up the town.” It was a joke. A lame joke since I’d shown up to help film a movie.

“Excuse me?” Lincoln asked, his eyes wide and mouth agape.

My joke about being here to blow up the town hadn’t gone over well.

He put his drink down hard on the bar, forceful.

“It was a joke.”

He grabbed my wrist and pulled me off the stool. His eyes raked over my body, sending a shiver down my spine.

Did he recognize me?

I hadn’t been in disguise, but the bar was dimly lit, and this was a small town.