Happily Ever His (Singletree #1)

isolated piece of land in an old and probably not completely secure house. I pulled the handgun from the drawer with a shiver and went back to the door. It was almost ten PM. Not the time of day when I enjoyed meeting huge visitors.
“Can I help you?” I called through the door, still not opening it.
“Juliet Manchester’s security team. Here to check the property in preparation for her arrival.” The voice that came back was deep and resonant. And a little bit scary. And super serious.
Chessy made a strange noise in response, cocking her head to one side and letting out a “hmmmm?” Chessy stepped nearer to the door and peered out the side window, looking up at the hulking man who was speaking. She made an appreciative noise in her throat, the one usually reserved for sunflower seeds and anything dropped from the lunch table.
“Oh,” I said, unlocking the door and pulling it open. “Sure. Um, come in? Is she arriving tonight? She wasn’t totally clear about it.” I stepped back, and the two men stood for a moment in the open doorway, their eyes taking in everything.
The chicken.
The darkened house.
Gran’s screeched curses coming from the back room as her raid got underway.
And me, holding a handgun.
Chessy interrupted the silence with a loud squawk and tiptoed close to the black boots of one of the men, clucking and circling his feet in a strange kind of examination.
The bigger of the two men frowned at me, his dark skin creasing as his eyes landed on the weapon in my hand.
“Oh, sorry,” I said. “It’s just…you know, it’s late, and… so is Juliet coming tonight?” I shoved the gun into the back of my pants like I’d seen guys do on television. It was extremely uncomfortable and made the waist of my jeans very tight.
“An hour behind us,” the other guard said. “Is this a chicken?” He peered down at Chessy, who glared up at him, indignant to be questioned.
“Yeah,” I affirmed. “So, how can I help you?”
The first guard, Chessy’s guy, finally seemed to relax a bit. He held out a hand. “I’m Jack. This is Christian.”
“I’m Tess,” I told them.
“Thanks Tess. We’ll just check the house and the property line, if that’s okay. Just getting a sense for points of potential entry to the property. What’s security like here?”
“Um...” I tried not to reveal that me, my gun, and my attack chicken were the extent of it. We didn’t worry too much about security.
“Exterior security of any kind? Property fence?”
“No.”
“So you have a gun. And a chicken.” The tiniest of smiles crossed the man’s face.
“And some goats and horses. A couple wild turkeys run through now and then…” I trailed off, realizing too late that Jack wasn’t really looking for a rundown of our livestock situation.
“Just secure the weapon please,” Jack said. “And Ms. Manchester said bunking here on the property wouldn’t be an issue?”
I tried not to let my surprise show. Juliet had invited two security guards to stay at the house, and hadn’t bothered to mention it to me? “Sure, that’s no issue. So… the two of you.”
“There’ll be four of us. And then Ms. Manchester and Mr. McDonnell.”
A little spike of excitement made my stomach jump. Ryan McDonnell was coming here.
With Juliet.
The excitement turned to a clump of hard annoyance. I knew my sister was coming home. I didn’t know she was bringing five additional houseguests with her. But I was a Southern girl, and I let that information sink in and absorbed it with a smile. “Well, of course that’s just fine,” I told them. “The more, the merrier. I’ll just open up the east wing and get some rooms ready for y’all.”
I waved the men into the house to do whatever it was they needed to do as I rushed to finish making something for Gran to eat and then headed for the part of the house we generally kept closed off. It would be dusty and dank, but the sheets would be clean.
Once Gran was eating and drinking her Manhattan in the kitchen, the two men finished up their rounds and appeared in the doorway. Chessy was hot on the tail of the one she’d chosen for herself, Jack.
“All set Miss,” Jack said. “Ms. Manchester should be here soon.”
I watched the two men head for the front door and then I began to sit across from Gran to eat, but the gun down my pants made it all but impossible. I’d almost forgotten about it as I’d rushed around the house. I pulled it out and set it on the table, where Gran eyed it curiously but went on eating.
“What the fuck was that all about?” she asked, a mouthful of pasta barely masking her profanity.
“Juliet is coming. Tonight.”
“Ah.” The great thing about Gran was that she could accept just about anything without letting it faze her. “Planning to shoot her?”
I rolled my eyes at my grandmother and sipped at my own whiskey. Juliet had a way of stirring things up. Part of me welcomed the change in pace, and part of me resented her assumptions that we’d just mold to her needs, change our schedules and do whatever it was that America’s favorite star required.
I washed our plates at the sink and looked out over the back yard.
The water looked smooth and calm as it flowed down toward the Chesapeake past the long gentle slope of Gran’s lawn in the shimmering light of the moon. It was peaceful and serene, and as I went through our nightly routine, I pushed myself to feel the same. My life might not be exciting—especially if you were to compare it to my sister’s—but it was mine, and it was good. I was happy.
At least that’s what I kept telling myself.

Chapter Three


Ryan
Juliet was on the phone almost the entire car ride to a place I could only assume was located somewhere between outer Mongolia and the moon, based on