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  “Her Champion Bodyguard”

  Lockwood Industries #4

  By Laura Ann

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  HER CHAMPION BODYGUARD

  First edition. March 18, 2020.

  Copyright © 2020 Laura Ann.

  Written by Laura Ann.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  DEDICATION

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  NEWSLETTER

  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

  EPILOGUE

  “Her Loyal Bodyguard” | CHAPTER 1

  DEDICATION

  To my horse loving twin.

  One day we’ll actually ride one

  and I’m so excited to share that with you.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  No author works alone. Thank you, Victorine.

  You and your sister make it Christmas every time

  I get a new cover. And thank you to my Beta Team and editor.

  Truly, your help with my stories is immeasurable.

  And another thank you to Beck. Your willingness to share

  your horse expertise was SO appreciated.

  Thank you!

  NEWSLETTER

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  To get in on the action, just click HERE

  CHAPTER 1

  “It’s happening again,” Kinsley whispered to her father.

  “What?” Garrett Storm pushed a hand through his thick salt-and-pepper hair with a deep sigh. He glanced around before leaning closer. “What was it this time?”

  Kinsley kept her eye on the equestrian currently working his way around the arena as she spoke, praying no one could see the panic in her eyes. “My boots were missing from my tack. I had to grab a different pair I keep on hand for emergencies.”

  “Are they broken in?” Garrett asked.

  “No. These ones happen to be brand new.” Kinsley wiggled her toes, trying to ease the tightness of the boots. She knew the stiff sensation could easily be a distraction while she rode. Which is probably exactly what this guy wants.

  Garrett hung his head and cursed quietly. “How does this keep happening and nobody sees a thing?”

  Kinsley shrugged, finally looking over at her father. The years since her mother’s death had aged him far more than normal for a man in his fifties, and the past six months hadn’t helped any. Heavy wrinkles lined his forehead and the bags under his eyes testified of sleepless nights and stressful days. “It has to be someone who’s around all the time. People would notice a stranger, but the fact that whoever this is keeps getting in and out without detection tells me that it’s someone within our group.”

  Garrett nodded. “That’s my thinking, too.” He narrowed his eyes at the current rider. “The most logical idea would be a fellow competitor.” He turned to Kinsley and dropped his voice. “Mary Ann, perhaps?”

  Kinsley squished her lips to the side and turned back to the arena. “I thought of her,” she admitted. “But I don’t know if she’s the kind of person to get her hands dirty. I mean, even for someone as spoiled as she, it’s pretty low to try to sabotage the competition.” Kinsley paused. “I think she’s more the type to mess with me mentally than physically. Like her backhanded compliments and stuff.”

  “Maybe...” Garrett took a deep breath. “We need to get to the bottom of this though. I’m afraid if it continues, it’s going to escalate into something far worse than missing pieces of equipment.” He glanced at her feet. “As it is, you’ll probably have blisters by the end of the day.”

  Kinsley nodded, knowing he was right. Wearing brand new boots for an entire competition was definitely not ideal.

  Garrett wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed his daughter tight. “Let me talk to Quentin,” he said, referring to a friend of the family. “I know the Gruffmans have dealt with security problems in the past. He might have some suggestions about how to proceed.”

  “Well, whatever we do, it needs to be later because it’s time for me to get ready.”

  Garrett kissed the top of her head. “I’ll walk you back.”

  Together they headed toward the stalls where Kinsley’s horse, Amadeus, stood waiting patiently for his master.

  “Hello, my gorgeous boy,” Kinsley purred as she got closer. She put her hands on either side of her horse’s head and slid them up his cheeks and neck, reveling in the silky feeling of his hair. Kinsley put her forehead to his and took a deep breath. “Everything’s all right when you’re around, isn’t it?” she murmured.

  Amadeus snorted and nodded his head in agreement.

  Kinsley laughed and stepped back to open the gate, keeping her hand on his side the whole time. “Let’s get you all saddled and ready to go, huh? We’re going to show those spectators what a real horse can do.”

  Again, the horse responded, and Garrett shook his head. “You and your horse. It’s like you can actually talk to each other.”

  Kinsley smiled widely. “We can. Didn’t you know I’m bilingual?”

  Garrett grinned and shook his head. “I’ve always loved horses, but you take it to a whole other level.”

  Kinsley blinked rapidly as the sting of tears came to her eyes. “Must be a combination of you and Mom,” she said softly. Although Louise Storm had never touched a horse until after she married Kinsley’s father, the sweet, gentle woman had never met an animal she couldn’t tame. There was just something about her that any animal, horses included, could sense, and they adored her.

  Kinsley always prayed she’d gotten the best of both worlds. She got her love of horses from her father and an uncanny ability to connect with even the most stubborn of personalities from her mother.

  “She’d be so proud of you,” Garrett said softly, then cleared his throat. “Anyway, let’s get this ol’ boy saddled and out to the waiting area. They’ll be calling your name soon.”

  Amadeus blew out a long breath and stomped his foot.

  “Better watch it, Dad,” Kinsley said with a smile. “He doesn’t like being called old.”

  Garrett rolled his eyes. “My apologies.”

  Kinsley smiled even wider when Amadeus nodded in reply. “All righty. Time to get this done.” She put her white pad on Amadeus’s back, then lugged the hunter saddle up and over. Kinsley made short work of attaching all the belts, the routine second nature to her after so many years of practice. At last, she put the harness on and led her beautiful stallion out of the stall and started down the hall.

  “Is it your turn already?” a young man asked as he meandered down the hall toward Kinsley.

  She smiled at Tyrone, who helped make sure everything was just right for her at every event. “Almost. Have you seen Coach Ritton?”

  Tyrone’s cheeks flushed and his eyes dropped to the ground while he pointed further down the corridor. “Yeah. He’s waiting for you.”

  “Thanks,” Kinsley murmured. With another smile, she took off. I’ll bet Coach chewed Ty out again. Po
or kid. He doesn’t deserve to be treated like that.

  Tyrone had been working for Coach Ritton for several years, ever since the young man graduated from high school. He ran odd jobs, kept the tack clean, and generally did anything and everything the coach needed. Being one of the best coaches in the country, any position on Coach Ritton’s staff was a coveted one, but that didn’t make him any easier to work for.

  He was known as the Gordon Ramsay of the horse world, and truth be told, if he wasn’t as good as he was, Kinsley would have moved on a long time ago. She wasn’t fond of his brash manner or the way he treated his underlings, but she couldn’t argue with the results. Her rank had risen significantly since she had signed with Coach Ritton, and this year, they felt she had a good chance at the national championship.

  “It’s about time you showed up,” Coach Ritton said by way of greeting as Kinsley came around the corner with her father and Amadeus in tow.

  “We’re here in plenty of time,” Kinsley said with a forced smile. “I think there are still a couple riders ahead of me.”

  “Don’t get cocky,” Coach Ritton growled. He eyed Amadeus with a critical eye. “Did you warm him up properly?”

  Kinsley kept her fake smile in place. “Of course. We did that not too long ago.”

  Coach Ritton glared at her and snorted, then turned his gaze back to the arena.

  Kinsley joined him, watching the other competitors go through their routine. Finally, it was her turn. Turning to Amadeus, she nuzzled his face. “Ready, boy?” She giggled when the horse nibbled at her helmet. “All right. Let’s show these people how wonderful you are.”

  At the end of the day, Kinsley sat on a hay bale just outside Amadeus’s stall and removed her boots with a groan. She sucked in a short gasp when she noticed a couple specks of blood from where the new boots had worn on her skin for too many hours.

  Garrett tsked his tongue and shook his head. “This can’t continue,” he said in a harsh whisper. “We’re calling Quentin first thing in the morning.”

  Kinsley nodded mutely. Now that her mind wasn’t on the competition, the burning and aching in her feet became overwhelming. I’m ready to do anything if it means getting to the bottom of this mystery. I’m not sure how much more of this I can take.

  SAWYER STOOD IN THE corner of the lobby, sipping his soda and watching the crowd mingle. They were celebrating the one-year anniversary of Lockwood Industries, which meant a party was in full swing. Tables laden with food stood in one corner while guests, employees, and investors mingled in the center.

  Sawyer put his cup to his lips and eyed the group. Ridge was off to one side with his brand new wife, nuzzling her neck. Sawyer snorted. Typical. Roman had his arm around Rose’s waist, and the large diamond on her finger sparkled in the sunlight. Their wedding was only a few weeks away.

  Sawyer’s eyes cut to Valentina and her new fiancé, Andrew. They were chatting with a large group of people, but their hands looked glued together, as if they couldn’t bear to be even the slightest bit separated from each other.

  Sawyer sighed and shook his head. It’s like we’re running a stinkin’ dating service, he mentally grumbled. Three! Three of our employees hooking up within the first year of our opening. That has to be some kind of record.

  “Jealous?” Archer, one of the other employees, asked in his smooth baritone.

  Sawyer raised a single eyebrow. “Are you kidding me? I’m way too young to settle down.”

  Archer chuckled and brought his root beer bottle to his lips. “That’s what they all say,” he teased with a grin.

  Sawyer fought the desire to roll his eyes. Archer was a good guy, but Sawyer wasn’t really in the mood to talk to anyone. Being surrounded by all the lovey-dovey couples was making his stomach churn, and he wanted nothing more than to escape and go pound a punching bag or something.

  “You know what else they say?” Archer asked, slapping a hand on Sawyer’s back.

  “What’s that?” Sawyer took the bait.

  “Me thinketh you doth protest too much.”

  “What?” Sawyer made a face.

  Archer laughed. “You spend far too much time complaining about the couples for you to not be next,” Archer said with a smile. He winked as he walked away. “Beware of that next assignment. It might just be your last.”

  “Whatever,” Sawyer muttered, taking another sip of his drink. “Military bro or not, next time I get Archer in the gym I’m gonna pound him.”

  Truth be told, Sawyer was in the mood to pound any of his military family, since they were the ones flaunting their relationships. Lockwood Industries might have been named after the Lockwood triplets, but it was run by a crew of people who had come together during their time on the battlefield.

  Harlan, one of the triplets and Sawyer’s brother, had been captured during a mission and spent several months as a prisoner of war. When Harlan was finally released, Sawyer and Ridge, the other two triplets, had left the military with their brother, determined to support him and help Harlan get back on his feet.

  In a show of love and loyalty, three others they had served with joined their group as their contracts came due. Archer, Roman, and Valentina rounded out their motley crew of ex-military employees and helped make Lockwood Industries the success it was.

  It had originally been Harlan’s idea to start the company, and the others had jumped at the chance to support him. Harlan had changed during his imprisonment. He had always been a protector and responsible, but he’d lost the side of him that used to play and tease with his brothers. As identical triplets, they’d gotten into a lot of scrapes over the years, but those days were now long gone. Harlan rarely smiled and Sawyer often found a haunted look in his eyes when Harlan thought no one was paying attention.

  Sawyer didn’t know everything that had happened during Harlan’s time as a prisoner, but seeing how Harlan had changed told Sawyer enough. As he thought of his brother, Sawyer’s eyes drifted to where Harlan stood. His stoic face and focused gaze made Sawyer curious, so he followed Harlan’s line of sight and sighed.

  Cora, Lockwood Industries’ secretary, was chatting and laughing with some past clients. Her red hair looked like burning flames in the sunlight shining through the large windows, and her wide smile was contagious. Sawyer’s eyes went back to Harlan, and he watched his brother’s hand tighten on his cup as Cora laughed heartily at someone’s joke.

  The whole office could tell that the two had feelings for each other, but Harlan refused to acknowledge any of it. Cora was so open and expressive, and her wide green eyes were almost always locked on her boss, but Harlan treated her as nothing more than an employee. In fact, sometimes he was harsher with her than anyone else. Sawyer suspected it was because Harlan was angry about his feelings toward the woman.

  Cora was a close family friend, having grown up with Harlan and Sawyer’s younger sister. Hiring her for the front desk position had been an easy, natural move, but the tension it was creating was becoming difficult.

  “He needs to just kiss her and get it out of his system,” Sawyer muttered.

  “Who needs to kiss whom?” a deep, gravelly voice boomed from Sawyer’s right.

  Sawyer held back the urge to jump at the sound. Some bodyguard you are, he scolded himself. “Nothing,” Sawyer said, turning with a smile and putting out his hand. “Just complaining to myself about all the lovebirds.”

  Quentin Gruffman laughed and shook the offered hand. “Don’t complain too hard, or you’ll find yourself next on the list.”

  Sawyer shook his head. “Not me. I’m more of a short term kinda guy.”

  Quentin’s large, beefy hand slapped Sawyer’s shoulder. “That’s what they all say,” he teased. “Until it’s too late.”

  “Careful,” Sawyer said with raised eyebrows. “Willow might overhear you.”

  Quentin shrugged. “She knows I’m wrapped around her little finger.”

  Sawyer shook his head but smiled. “You enjoying the party?”
He waved his hand around. “We wouldn’t be here without your help.” Quentin was the main investor in their firm, and Sawyer would forever be grateful for his help.

  “It was a sound investment,” Quentin assured him. “Not to mention we love helping family.” Quentin’s younger brother had married the triplets’ sister and the whole Gruffman clan had adopted the Lockwood siblings.

  Sawyer nodded.

  “Speaking of which, I need your help,” Quentin continued.

  Sawyer immediately straightened. “Is something wrong with Goldie?”

  Quentin shook his head. “No. It’s a family friend.” He looked down at his cup of punch, then back up. “Do you know anything about horses?”

  Sawyer frowned and shook his head. “Not really.”

  “Ever heard of Kinsley Storm?”

  Sawyer’s eyebrows shot up. An image of the gorgeous equestrian flashed through his mind. Sawyer might not follow horses, but anyone who watched the sports stations knew who Kinsley Storm was. She not only showed horses, she had a contract as a sports model as well. Her father had married a Brazilian beauty, leaving Kinsley looking like a Barbie doll. She was tall and in shape with a face like an angel. Sawyer gulped. “Uh, yeah. I’ve heard of her.” He tried to sound nonchalant, but wasn’t sure he succeeded when Quentin gave him an odd look.

  Quentin huffed. “Well, she’s a good friend. Kind of like a sister, really, and she’s in trouble.”

  “What kind of trouble?” Sawyer folded his arms and spread his legs, an old habit formed during his service.

  Quentin’s eyes darted around. “Not here. But I’ve spoken with Harlan and we’re meeting tomorrow at two in his office. I’d like you to join us.”

  “Okay...”

  “We don’t want to start any rumors, so everything is staying on the down low,” Quentin explained.

  “Got it.” Sawyer nodded firmly.

  Quentin nodded in turn. “I appreciate it.” He once again slapped Sawyer on the back. “Gotta go mingle, but I’ll plan on seeing you tomorrow.”