Protector: Watchdogs MC, #1

By Kate Stone

What happens when the protectors become abusers?

Wade McIntyre lives by his own code. He protects the vulnerable, but this comes at a high cost.

Lilly Sweeney thought she'd find peace in small-town life. Instead she found corrupt cops, domestic abuse, and the hansome but secretive Wade.

When Lilly's drunk neighbor gets nowhere threatening her, he goes home to take his frustrations out on his wife. Lilly tries to save her, but the neighbor is too strong.

Will Wade make it back in time to save Lilly and her abused neighbor?

Protector is the first of Kate Stone's Watchdogs MC series.

If you love bad boys who still do the right thing, strong women who can (mostly) take care of themselves, and steaming hot romance, you'll love this novella.

Get your copy today!

Protector is a SHORT, standalone romance with a happy ending, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kate Stone
• Release date: Mar 19, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393326502

Book preview

Chapter One – Lilly

The sweet air of the country always brought me back to summers at my grandma’s. I would spend days picking honeysuckle and blackberries from the bushes, and nights catching fireflies. Growing up a city dweller, my family and friends didn’t understand why I would want to retire to the small-town life. I couldn’t imagine building a life anywhere but in a town where people knew your name, you could count the stoplights on one hand, and the night air filled with the sound of crickets and cicadas instead of police sirens and raging parties. During a moment of crushing anxiety following my master’s graduation, I pulled up a map of the state, picked a quaint town named Newshire at a whim, and browsed for rental homes.

And there I was, freshly twenty-five, moving into my very own house. It was a small, one-story brick house with black shutters and a weather-worn door, but I planned to paint bright it yellow. I planned to add flower boxes in each window every spring, and Christmas lights every winter. The landlord was cutting me a deal on the rent for my promise to make modern renovations. He was an older man who claimed he needed a woman’s touch on the property in case I decided to move instead of buy one day.

The movers had left over an hour ago, and a hoard of boxes were waiting on me, begging to be unpacked and put in place… Yet there I was, wandering around the outside market in the center of town. It was a gorgeous Saturday at the very beginning of spring, the expansive sky without a single cloud to blemish it. While the market wasn’t packed like the ones in the city, a generous amount of people moseyed around, inspecting the fresh produce. Even though the fruits and vegetables were marvelously delectable, I was preoccupied with the people.

As far back as I could remember, people watching was my guilty pleasure. The more unaware and at peace the person felt, the more entranced I became with watching them. People were always putting on some sort of performance while in public, even if it was as simple as squaring their shoulders and putting on a fake smile; so it was fascinating to see someone acting so natural. Like the little boy I spotted across the square. He couldn’t have been more than two-years-old and was holding a kiwi that seemed as big as a softball in his tiny hand. While he tittered back and forth, he ogled the fruit, delicately rubbing his fingertips against the fuzzy skin. Had I known his parents, I would have taken a picture for them, wishing so much that his mother who was talking to the vendor could see her son’s look of astonishment at touching a hairy fruit for perhaps the first time.

Ma’am, can you move? You’re blocking my view of the tomatoes, a gravelly voice called from behind me.

Without moving from my position leaning against a post, I turned my head to take in the sight of the man who called to me. Underneath a forest green canopy sat a dark-haired man, with a short and well-groomed beard, a silver nose ring, and eyes the color of a remote swimming hole in a tropical country I would never visit, enticing me to take a dip. His eyes were second in beauty only to the playful smirk glued to his lips.

I wasn’t one to lose my composure; my mother had once taught me there wasn’t a man in the world worth losing your cool over. Afraid they’ll ripen without you seeing?

That’s the idea, he nodded, running a ringed hand over his beard. They have to be the perfect amount of sun-ripened to go in my Sunday gravy, and your cute little self is standing in the way of my live updates.

It was only then his accent dawned on me. While we were the south and everyone had a touch of twang to them, his was more pronounced in the best way possible. It was the drawl of a folk singer from the sixties. A man who cooks? Must be a country thing. Don’t think I know a guy who knows how to do more than put in a delivery address on an app.

Thought so, he beamed, his smirk blooming into a smile. You’re new here, huh?

What tipped you off? I teased, feeling as though I had just outright admitted it.

The fact I know every girl in this town—though I suppose I know just about everyone. Small towns are like that. Might wanna be careful out here. Some of these country folks bite, and they’ll eat you for dinner.

Taking a glance around and noticing nearly the entire population was families and senior citizens, I stifled a laugh. I’ll be sure to watch my back. So what uh… I glanced up at the canopy, my voice trailing off. Three Brothers Landscaping. You’re a landscaper? Nothing about this man said landscaper, but maybe I was stereotyping. There was nothing about his manbun and denim vest that screamed a career in mulch and tulip bulbs.

Appears that way, he sighed before rising from his leaned-back position in a folding chair. He extended a hand and stared me in the eyes, Wade McIntyre.

Lilly Sweeney.

His expression shifted, but I couldn’t explain how. Beautiful name, he nearly purred.

Funny, I was about to say the same to you.

Wade does have a sweet little ring to it, doesn’t it? I think it may just get lodged between your ears by the end of the day.

His confidence made me scoff. What makes you say that?

You’re standing here, talking to me when there’s a million things the new girl in town could be doing. So I know there’s gotta be a reason you’re still entertaining me. No way it’s just to be polite, all I did was ask you to move. You want to know the kicker? He gestured for me to come closer as he leaned across the table, gesturing he was going share a secret. The feel of his breath on my neck caused a shiver