Page 37 of Liberated By the Logger

His men grumble, but say nothing else.

Atlas turns his icy glare back on me. From the look of him, I’d wager he’s done waiting. “We need to speak with Aspen, Mister O’Mara.”

I’m about to tell this biker to shove it where the sun doesn’t shine when a small voice behind me has me stiffening.

“Brose?”

My head swings around to see my tiny woman standing behind me in nothing but my Henley shirt I dressed her in yesterday and her tiny fists gripping the neck of another one of my wood decoys, ready to swing it at whoever is outside.

This woman is going to be the death of me, I swear, but I wouldn’t have her any other way.

“Put the decoy down, darlin’. You don’t need it when you got me.”

Aspen lowers her weapon, setting it on the credenza near the door. She pouts, looking a bit miffed she won’t be going into action.

“Who’s here this early? And with the storm still going on?”

“It’s no one important. Go back to bed. I’ll join you soon.”

“Aspen Fair?” Atlas barks, his voice heavy with authority. “We’re Mercy Ravens Security, hired by the Fort Collins Police Department to inquire about your wellbeing. Can you please step outside to speak with us?”

I whip my head around to face Atlas, baring my teeth. “She is not dressed to greet anyone.”

“Wrap her in a damn tent for all I care. We’re not interested in Miss Fair beyond her safety,” Atlas says sharply, almost like I’ve insulted him for assuming he or his men would check out my woman. “We need to speak with her—now.”

I’m about to go toe-to-toe with this Hulk-size fucker when Aspen places her palm on the small of my back. She tucks in close behind me, her front flush with my back.

“It’s okay, Brose.”

Like hell it is. I don’t want these bikers ogling what’s mine.

My woman peeks around me to face the mercenaries. “I’m Aspen. What is it you want?”

Atlas’s hard face softens for my woman, not by much, but enough to look less menacing. “Miss Fair. Thanks for speaking to me. How are you? Are you hurt?”

“Or has someone hurt you?” Gauge asks her, while looking directly at me accusingly.

My nostrils flare. It would take nothing to launch my axe into this dick’s skull.

“I’m fine—more than fine,” Aspen says, wrapping her arms around my torso. “No one has hurt me, unless you consider Gary chaining me to a dead ponderosa against my will as doing me harm.”

Atlas nods. “Do you want to press charges against Gary?”

While Aspen says, “No,” I snap, “Yes.”

“I just want to be done with him,” Aspen says to me in a tired voice, like the thought of dealing with Gary drains her energy.

“He put you in danger,” I growl, my temper slipping. “Had I not gone looking to see if there was someone else on the mountain…”

I can’t say it. The thought of any harm coming to my woman because of that fool makes my blood boil.

“It’s okay,” Aspen says, her voice almost a coo. It calms my nerves to a degree. “I’m okay—because of you.”

“He doesn’t deserve to get off with a free pass,” I mutter, taking one of her hands and bringing it to my mouth for a quick peck.

“I agree with your man, Miss Fair,” the biker with the shaved head says. “Maybe consider a restraining order, too.”

Gauge balks. “What the fuck, Punk? Her ‘man?’”