Summer, Bellann - Paulie's Protector [The Men of the Crazy Angle Ranch 4] (Siren Publishing Classic ManLove) Read online

  The Men of the Crazy Angle Ranch 4

  Paulie’s Protector

  Paul Weber has a good life, until a stalker has him running. After a botched attack leaves him terribly injured, he finds himself on a plane to the Crazy Angle.

  Nolan Clark is the mechanic of the Crazy Angle. Even though he is painfully shy, he finds himself standing in a crowded airport waiting for an injured man. Paulie appears, sick and hurt, and yet to Nolan he is the most beautiful man he has ever seen. All of his protective instincts come out and at six-seven, with muscles on top of muscles, no one is getting near Paulie.

  The men of the Crazy Angle ban together to fight a rich man, who is desperate to keep Paulie for himself. Unfortunately they suspect someone on the ranch is a traitor. Sometimes newfound love needs a lot of work and a little luck to fight evil. Especially for a quiet, shy man and a man who is scarred inside and out.

  Genre: Alternative (M/M or F/F), Contemporary, Western/Cowboys

  Length: 32,388 words

  PAULIE’S PROTECTOR

  The Men of Crazy Angle Ranch 4

  Bellann Summer

  EROTIC ROMANCE

  MANLOVE

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Erotic Romance ManLove

  PAULIE’S PROTECTOR

  Copyright © 2014 by Bellann Summer

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-63258-175-4

  First E-book Publication: August 2014

  Cover design by Harris Channing

  All art and logo copyright © 2014 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 Paulie’s Protector by Bellann Summer 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 Bellann Summer’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Summer’s right to earn a living from her work.

  Amanda Hilton, Publisher

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  www.BookStrand.com

  DEDICATION

  In some of our darkest moments there is a bright light. Sometimes we have to search for it and sometimes it comes to us. Never let the darkness completely overtake you. Fight for the light. It is warm and loving.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  About the Author

  PAULIE’S PROTECTOR

  The Men of the Crazy Angle Ranch 4

  BELLANN SUMMER

  Copyright © 2014

  Chapter One

  “Hey, Paulie, your sugar daddy’s watching you again.”

  Paul Weber looked over at the clear glass window that was set in the wall between the reception area and the shop. It was put in so that the customers could watch the technicians repair everything from lawn mowers to huge tractors. It had never been a problem in the four years that he had worked at the tractor implement dealership and service center. Until the month before when Phen Pennington had first come in and Paul happen to be up at the front desk talking to a customer.

  After the customer left, Paul had turned to go back into the shop, only to have a tall, almost emaciated man in his late forties blocking his way. “Hello. My name is Mr. Pennington, and yours is…?” the man asked.

  Paul found his hand being engulfed by a much larger, bony hand. He tried to ignore and suppress his wince at how cold and clammy it was. “Hi, I’m Paul. How may I help you today?” he said, trying to be professional.

  Mr. Pennington’s long, thin face broke out into a wide smile and Paul tried not to stare at the yellow-stained, crooked teeth. Most people became more attractive in some way when they smiled. This could not be said for Mr. Pennington. He was so thin and his cheekbones were so prominent, his cheeks looked like hollowed-out pits in his face. The bones on the sides of his forehead also stuck out, reminding Paul of an old Frankenstein movie. The man’s receding hairline didn’t help, nor having light-brown hair so thin it kind of floated around in a breeze no one else felt.

  “I have a lawn mower that I need you to look at,” the gaunt man said.

  “All right, if you tell me where it is, I’ll take it into the shop while Penny helps you with the paperwork.” Paul indicated to the receptionist sitting behind a counter at the back of the room. Penny was very good at handling all kinds of personalities and Paul was secretly glad to be able to let her deal with this one. He was starting to feel dirty, with the way Mr. Pennington was devouring him with his eyes, from Paul’s head, slowly, to the tips of his boot-covered toes.

  “I don’t think that would be acceptable. I would like you to help me,” Mr. Pennington demanded.

  Paul had to fight the urge to tell the man that he couldn’t help him. But management had a strict policy that all employees were required to make the customer’s visit as pleasant as possible. So Paul manned up, ready to stick around, so Penny could get the information she needed.

  “Okay, let’s go and get that paperwork completed.” Paul forced himself
give the man a “customer smile.”

  Pennington insisted Paul, not Penny, get behind the computer and type in his information. Reluctantly Paul performed his surprisingly fast two-finger tap dance across the keys as Pennington spelled out his name and address. They may have faltered a moment when he felt Pennington’s warm breath against his ear, as he leaned over Paul’s back. The rule of no customers behind the counter didn’t seem to be a deterrent to Pennington.

  From the corner of his eye, Paul saw that Penny was becoming concerned by Pennington’s pushy behavior and finally she went and brought the manager upfront. Unfortunately for Paul, the manager took one look at who Penny was concerned about and backed right off. This was the first, but not the last time, that Paul would become the victim of Pennington’s power. Later he found out that Paul’s employer was Pennington’s cousin and Pennington had originally funded the implement’s beginning.

  From the information he typed into the computer, Paul found out Phen Pennington’s full name and that he lived in one of the most elite areas in the city. Paul asked his friends about the odd man later, and was told Phen Pennington was well known for being rich, eccentric, and almost unstoppable when he wanted something.

  Pennington’s money and long tentacles had been the major reason that the mayor and chief of police had won their elections. Rumor had it that Pennington’s hooks were deeply embedded in just about every business in town. Few could or would go up against anything he wanted. If they did, an extremely large, nasty brute would be hired to take care of the annoyance. All happening with the authorities turning a blind eye toward anything Pennington did.

  Much to Paul’s dismay, when the paperwork was completed, Pennington went with him outside to unload the lawnmower from a small black trailer pulled by a white Cadillac Escalade. Pennington obviously didn’t know or care about the three-foot personal space rule, because again and again his body would brush up against Paul and Paul would feel cool fingers caress his back or rub his arm. Paul was relieved to finally be rid of the disturbing man, at least physically, when he escaped into the shop and Pennington had to stay behind in the waiting area. But the man never left that window or stopped staring at him, like he wanted to get a spoon out and eat Paul for dinner, while Paul worked on his lawnmower.

  Now Mr. Pennington was back, after having brought into the shop for service over the last month two different lawn mowers and a small tractor. He always made it a point to ask for Paul to work on his property. There was never anything wrong with the equipment and the rest of the guys had started razzing him about having an admirer.

  Seeing Paul looking toward the window, Pennington smiled that gruesome smile, raised his hand and waved at him. Paul had to suppress a shudder. To him, the hand resembled a skeleton’s bony appendage, with milk-white skin stretched taut over it. The tips of overlong fingernails made the hand look unnaturally elongated and it totally creeped Paul right out.

  The teasing would really escalate if the guys found out that not only had Mr. Pennington asked him out multiple times, but Paul could swear he had seen him at the grocery store, and at a couple of local bars that Paul had gone to with some of his friends, over the last couple of weeks.

  “I wouldn’t talk, Pat. You seem to have an admirer of your own.” Paul shot back.

  Also over the last month, a small black man had brought in a broken weed eater, a leaf blower and a hedge trimmer to be fixed. The man had openly flirted with Pat each time and had also stood at the window watching everyone while his equipment had been worked on. The guy always wore baggy clothes and a cap pulled low over his brow. Beneath the cap, dreadlocks hung to below the guy’s shoulders and he had a short beard. Paul hadn’t had any interaction with him, but from what he had seen, the guy at least wasn’t as creepy as Pennington.

  Looking back over to the window, Paul frowned when he saw that Pennington was still standing there, watching every move he made.

  * * * *

  One Year Later

  The phone rang, waking Elliot Fisher up from a deep sleep. He reached over Zaiden’s big body and pulled away from Adam’s muscled arm encircling his waist, and grabbed the phone off the side table. Before he could even say hello, there was a blood-curdling scream on the other end.

  “Elliot, please help me. He found me again.”

  “Paul? Paulie, where are you?”

  “I’m at the park. No matter how far I run, he keeps finding me. Help me, Elliot.”

  “What park are you in? Paul, what city are you in?”

  “I’m…”

  There was another terror-filled scream. High-pitched agonizing screams followed and Elliot’s heart raced in fear for Paulie. Elliot continued to yell into the phone for what seemed like forever. But there was nothing on the other end but silence.

  * * * *

  He was out there. Paul sat in the darkened living room of his tiny rented house. Sometimes he watched the ancient television, but all day, the hair on the back of his neck had stood on end, telling him. He was out there.

  Paul had been living in the small, but clean, furnished house in the middle of the city for three weeks now. Paul knew he was pushing his luck. But he was so tired. For the last year, the animal that was stalking him hadn’t let this much time pass before he contacted Paul in some way. The freak kept reiterating his goals of catching and keeping Paul, like a personal pet.

  Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and Paul turned to watch in horror as a shadow passed by the living room window. Paul found himself fighting to catch his breath and sweat began to coat his upper lip. The fingers of his hands started cramping from clutching the arms of the well-worn padded chair he was sitting in. Paul’s mind was screaming at him to get up and run. But his legs were locked in place and his body refused to move as terror encased him in its iron grip.

  The small, frosted window of the front door shattered, spraying glass onto the worn rug beneath it. From the glow of the streetlight, Paul saw a hand encased in a black glove reach in and with a loud click, flipped the lock open. Silently the door slid open and someone who was not his stalker walked into the foyer.

  As the person crept past one of the entryway windows, the streetlight revealed an oversized sweatshirt covered most of the intruder’s body, while its hood hid his face. Paul couldn’t see anything else except the point of the man’s hair-covered chin and the fact that he was wearing baggy pants. It was also clear that this man was much shorter than his stalker.

  Paul’s body reacted. Jumping up, he ran through the dining room, kitchen and out the side door. Propelling himself off the small porch, he landed on the hard-packed dirt of what could jokingly be called a backyard. He was immediately grabbed by large hands locking onto his shoulders. Paul looked up in terror at the face of Phen Pennington.

  Paul heard the sound of pounding footsteps coming up behind him and Pennington pushed him aside to confront them. That’s when Paul saw the large hunting knife in Pennington’s hand.

  Paul watched in shock as Pennington, with one swipe of his arm, cut the man who’d broken into his house deeply across his chest. Paul didn’t stay and watch anymore. He started running as fast as he could into the park adjacent to his backyard.

  As he ran, he managed to pull his phone out of his pocket and call his friend Elliot. Before he could say more than a few words, a hand caught the back of his shirt and threw him down onto the ground. Paul screamed and kept screaming as Pennington held him down and proceeded to make huge, slicing cuts, shredding his shirt and jeans like they were paper. Sharp pain and bright-red blood mingled, and black spots started to dance in front of his eyes.

  Pennington suddenly stiffened. With swift movements, he brought his arm up and Paul felt the knife slice through the skin of his belly and up under his ribs. And then Pennington was gone.

  “It’s okay buddy, I have an ambulance on the way.” Paul blinked a couple of times and focused on the dark uniform of a policeman crouched above him. Pain exploded through h
is body when the man pressed his hands firmly against Paul’s abdomen.

  Blessed blackness enveloped Paul.

  * * * *

  Elliot hovered in the doorway of the office, shifting from foot to foot, and waited for Graham to notice him. He had a huge favor to ask his boss and he couldn’t stop the tremor of apprehension sliding down his back. Absently he lifted a slightly shaking hand and wiped the bead of sweat that started to trickle down the side of his face next to his temple. This meant so much and was so very important.

  “What do you need, Elliot?” Graham asked.

  Clasping his hands in front of him, Elliot went in and stood before the big Mahogany desk.

  “I have a friend that needs a place to stay,” he blurted. “He’s leaving the hospital soon and has to get out of the city he’s in right away.”

  “Are you asking if he can come here to the Crazy Angle?” Graham asked. The dark-haired man put down the pen he was holding, and green eyes filled with curiosity searched Elliot’s face.

  “Yes, I am. Paulie is actually a very good mechanic and once he’s healed, he would be an asset to the ranch.” Elliot was trying his best not to cry. He was so scared for Paul and knew he had to get him to safety as quickly as possible.

  Graham stood and went around the desk, sitting down on one of the three standard office chairs lined up in front of it. Pulling Elliot down onto the chair next to him, he kept Elliot’s now ice-cold hand in his and rubbed it in comfort.