“Something you need here, Morgan?”

Morgan jerked around, obviously not expecting anyone else to be on the property. It didn’t take him long to put on his slimy smile.

“Trying to weasel your way into the old lady’s good graces, boy?”

Jackson moved to stand between Morgan and the house. Crossing his arms over his chest, he said, “I’m just here helping a friend.”

Morgan snorted at that, which pulled a few low chuckles from his boys.

“Friend? Since when did you and the old lady become friends?”

The front door to the house flew open with a crash. For half a second Jackson thought one of Morgan’s men had kicked in the door. But the sight before him made his heart stop.

With her bright golden hair catching every ray of sunshine, and her knit top and faded denim clinging to her sweet curves, she looked like an avenging angel with a rifle in her hands.

“Get the hell off my property!”

Morgan’s mouth fell open, as did the others. Jackson forced himself to look away before he did something like let his tongue hang out.