Free For Love of a Cowboy by Yvonne Lindsay - For Love of a Cowboy

to head back to his truck and back out to the ranch where he ought to be. Laying in a good night’s sleep before another hard day’s work tomorrow.
    He groaned out loud. Ness would never forgive him if anything happened to Willow—and, if anything was going to happen to her, it would be here. The Wolf Den attracted a meaner clientele than Grey’s. And it had been seeing him there that had driven her out. As much as he hated to admit it, he was responsible for her being there. So he was equally responsible for getting her out.
    Booth banked the slow-burning fury that smoldered inside him and pulled open the door to the bar. He’d get her and get out. That’s all there was to it. It took his eyes a little time to adjust to the gloom inside. He looked around and didn’t see Willow right away. He felt his mood pick up a little. Maybe she wasn’t here after all. But then he picked up the sound of laughter over by the pool tables, in particular a laugh that made every muscle in his body tense and he felt that all-too-familiar swell in his groin.
    She was standing there, holding a cue, laughing at something one of the guys crowded around her had said before accepting a beer from him. It was innocuous enough, but Booth saw the lascivious looks on the men’s faces as she took a long pull at her beer, exposing the slender column of her throat. He froze in his tracks until he realized there were at least another half dozen men staring at her exactly the same way—with exactly the same hunger that now gripped him. Oblivious, Willow propped the bottle on the side of the table and bent to take a shot at the scattering of balls on the table.
    Any fool could see she wasn’t wearing a bra under that knitted cotton thing she wore. In fact, just about every fool here was privy to that information. And those impossibly short cut-offs she wore? They should be declared a national hazard with the way they rode up the back of her thighs, exposing the beginning of a soft curve of buttocks.
    A red haze clouded Booth’s vision as another guy leaned over Willow, guiding her as she lined up her shot. Booth’s fists clenched tight. That was enough. He wasn’t going to stand around and see more. A woman like Willow was live bait in a place like this. A peach, ripe for plucking.
    His cock twitched behind the fly of his jeans and he let out a soft growl. If anyone was going to do any plucking it would be him. Before he knew it, he was pushing through the crowd, ignoring the protests flung his way along with a few choice cusses.
    She was laughing again as she straightened from taking her shot. Her face animated and relaxed. Totally unaware of the potential danger she was in—and, surprisingly, not from him. Booth noted the exact moment she realized he was there. Saw the laughter freeze on her face and her eyes widen in surprise.
    “Booth, what are you—? Oooomph!”
    He had her hoisted on his shoulder and heading out the door before anyone around her could do more than issue a few catcalls and jeers at his retreating back.
    *
    Willow’s head spun. One second she was sipping a beer and learning the finer points of shooting pool, the next she was being slung around like a sack of potatoes. A strongly protesting one.
    “Put me down right now. I was having fun!”
    “Not for long you weren’t,” Booth said darkly as he headed for the door.
    “Hey buddy. The little lady said she wants to be put down.”
    The guy who’d been teaching her at the table stood squarely in front of Booth, stopping him in his tracks.
    “I did, Bill, thank you for pointing that out since someone ,” Willow said, squirming as Booth tightened his hold on her, “appears to be hard of hearing!”
    Booth merely slapped her on her backside and muttered, “Behave.”
    “Put her down. She doesn’t want you,” Bill challenged.
    “Don’t mess with me, Bill . I’m in just the right frame of mind to punch the shit out of anyone who gets in my way.”
    Booth’s voice