by Regan Black
“I need to say something first.” She sniffled.
“First?”
She looked him in the eyes. “I love you, Derek. So much.” She held his hands tightly. “I love you. I’m selfish to say it now, knowing you really should throw me over for someone who doesn’t have drama and daredevil tendencies.”
He was laughing. After hours of hell, she made him laugh. “Say it again.”
“I love you.”
He kissed her. Finally he had the words. Or maybe it was sooner than he’d expected. He didn’t care about the timing. His heart simply floated, pumping out pure joy that washed away the hours of angst and worry. He realized those three words, from her, would always hold that power.
“You’re not a daredevil, you’re a Riley. I love you, too.” He’d planned a more romantic moment, but it seemed foolish now. Unwise since they had yet to get through a date without a problem. That wrinkle would be gone when Eaton was in custody, but why wait for happiness?
“Grace Ann, will you be my wife?”
Her eyes rounded in her smudged face. “You’re serious.”
“I am.” He cradled her hands in his, giving her all the strength she needed. “Dating hasn’t worked so well for us. I figured we should just skip the formalities.”
“But I’m a career nurse for the army. If they’ll have me back.”
“They will,” he promised her, giving her a quick kiss along with all his confidence. “When they do, I’ll be honored to be your emergency contact.” No words had ever felt so true or right. “Marry me, Grace Ann. Go wherever you need to, as long as you let me be your home base.”
“Oh, you are. You already are,” she whispered as a tear rolled down her cheek. “I love you so much.”
He erased it with a gentle sweep of his thumb. He couldn’t wait to get her home, help her wash away the fear and terror. “Is that a yes?”
“Absolutely.” She cradled his jaw and kissed him. “It’s a big, huge yes.”
She’d said yes! His ears rang with her answer, his heart thudding in his chest. At the sound of a gasp and sniffle, he turned to see her mother at the break in the curtains, eyes and cheeks damp. “Happy tears?” he asked.
Patricia nodded vigorously, and then stepped aside, allowing an exasperated medical team to enter. Leave it to Patricia Riley to adjust the priorities to accommodate family and romance, even in an emergency room. How had she even gotten back here? He suspected the whole family would be calling for champagne within the hour.
“Major Riley,” the doctor began, “everything on your scan looks normal and the bloodwork is clear. I’d like you to rest for the next several days. You’ve been through an ordeal and your body needs some extra time. I have two prescriptions here for you. One is for pain.”
Derek saw her brow furrow as she read both small squares of paper.
“We’ve taken the liberty of scheduling your first prenatal exam with the practice associated with your primary care team in Bethesda. You’re about eight weeks along. If you’d like, I can arrange for you to hear the baby’s heartbeat before you leave.”
“Baby?” Derek directed the question at Grace Ann, but she appeared as dumbstruck as he felt.
“I’m pregnant?”
The crack in her voice snapped him out of the shock. “Yes,” he answered for them. “Yes, we’d love to hear the baby’s heartbeat before we go home.”
“You didn’t know?” he asked in a whisper as a nurse moved the equipment into position.
She shook her head. “No idea.”
“Well, you have been distracted.”
Moments later, her hand locked in his, he heard their baby’s rapid-fire heartbeat for the first time. Grace Ann giggled, her eyes sparkling.
“What?” he asked.
Catching her lip between her teeth, she tried to quell the laughter. It was a hopeless cause.
“Just say it,” he urged.
“Seems you found a way to rebuild that Sayer family tree double-time,” she said between snorts of more laughter.
“I’ve always appreciated efficiency.” He drew her into his arms and held on while his heart adjusted and settled. They were definitely rebuilding and reframing. Together they’d just created two joyful, life-altering happy memories right here in an emergency room.
“We’re going to be parents,” she murmured, laying his hand on her flat belly.
“Good thing I have invaluable experience with broody teenage boys.”
“Well, that settles it. I’m not letting you get away.”
He grinned. “You were locked in when you said you loved me,” he said. “The rest is just paperwork,” he joked. “Do you want to tell your family tonight?”
“Not yet.” She touched her forehead to his. “We have plenty to celebrate tonight. Let’s keep this for us, just for a few days. We’ve earned it.” She kissed him, long and sweet. “Take me home?”
“It would be an honor, my love.”
* * *
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Colton Family Bodyguard
by Jennifer Morey
Chapter 1
Why did every woman he met and thought might be the one always announce at the worst possible time that she wanted babies? Callum Colton walked along a street at the edge of Mustang Valley, Arizona, on a sunny, early spring day. He had just left his now ex-girlfriend, Cindy, in tears because he’d had to tell her he was never going to have any children. He’d explained that to her at the beginning but she must have thought she could change his mind. He’d had to remind her he meant what he’d said. In truth, he felt so rotten, ending the relationship like that. She’d told him she understood and held no animosity toward him, but she was obviously very hurt.
Callum stepped into Executive Protection Services, LLC still lamenting what had happened. What else could he have done? He would have hurt his ex-girlfriend more had he continued on with her. When Cindy sat him down for The Serious Talk, she’d told him she wanted children and she wanted them with him. She loved him, and her biological clock ticked on and she felt she had to move now. That convinced him they weren’t right for each other. She had hoped he felt the same as her and that he would give her children. She hadn’t anticipated how unbending he was on the matter. And the truth was that he did not love her. They would have ended their relationship eventually, since she wanted a family. Why drag it out? He never had serious relationships with women he dated. How had she gotten the impression he would with her? He had told her as much. He almost shuddered as the door closed behind him and he walked through the entry with its vacant reception desk toward an office in the back.
He had enough going on without having to now feel guilty for hurting Cindy. He was still reeling from the news that his half brother, Ace, had been switched at birth and wasn’t really his biological sibling. Not by blood. Who would do such a thing and why? The why of it really twisted his mind. Charles, the owner, chief executive officer, president and whatever other titles a guy like him liked to have, looked up from behind his metal-and-glass desk. The lack of clutter and nearly bare walls pretty much described him. Focused. Nothing personal. Good business head. That’s why Callum had agreed to work for him. Callum had no liking for paperwork. Charles did.
“It’s about time you got here.” Charles stood and moved around his desk.
“I had to take care of something.�
� Cindy’s tear-damp cheeks flashed through his mind. Chaos had reigned recently in his life, ever since an email had made the rounds of his family’s company, Colton Oil, saying that his oldest brother, Ace, was not a biological Colton. Since then, his father, Payne, had been shot—and now the cops even suspected Ace.
Charles stopped before him and cocked his head. “Well, that sounds like you. When you need to take care of something, nothing keeps you from doing it—not even your boss.”
“I broke up with my girlfriend,” Callum said.
“Another one? The hot blonde? What’s wrong with you?”
Callum put his hands up. “She wanted kids.”
Charles’s brow creased a little. “What is it with you and kids? They’re harmless and adorable. Who wouldn’t want them?”
“Not me.”
“Why not? They can be challenging sometimes but the rewards far outweigh that.”
Charles had two young kids. He had a wife and a nice house. A real family man. “Why did you call me here?” Callum asked in irritation.
After considering him awhile, Charles said, “You never talk about anything, do you realize that?”
Callum angled his head in silent warning.
“Keeping things bottled up is unhealthy. I worry about you.”
Callum said nothing and continued to look at him.
“Why do you think I called you here?” Charles asked.
Callum had a pretty good idea why. And he also thought this was going to be a waste of time. “I got the job done and the client is alive.” He’d done a job as a bodyguard for an executive who had a stalker.
“I’m not telling you to change your ways.” Charles scoffed. “I couldn’t anyway. But for the welfare of this company, I am telling you to be more careful. I almost couldn’t convince the police you didn’t break the law.”
The stalker had gotten too close to his delicate female client and Callum had given him a clear...message. Someone must have called 911 because the police had arrived after Callum and his client left.
“You were lucky the stalker was wanted for sexual assault on another woman. If they hadn’t been able to arrest him, they probably wouldn’t have let you go with just a warning,” his boss said.
Callum walked over to the window and passively watched cars go by and a man walking his dog on the sidewalk.
“Seriously, Callum, you can’t make up your own rules as you go.”
Why was Charles rambling on so long about that? Hopefully Callum had knocked some sense into him. Charles was just uncomfortable about employing a man who wasn’t afraid to cross boundaries.
“I’ll be careful, Charles,” Callum said.
“Why does that sound so half-baked?”
Callum glanced back with a rueful grin. “Because it is. Stop worrying so much. You’re not the one who would have been arrested, and protecting our clients won’t damage our reputation. If anything, it will get us more business.”
“You can’t protect anyone if you’re in jail.”
Turning back to the window, Callum said, “I didn’t cross the line. We advertise elite services, don’t we?” The view distracted him a moment. Charles had rented an office in an attractive one-story mall with a restaurant and a gas station beside the parking lot. The back of the building faced a quiet, tree-lined road. Across the street an upscale subdivision sprawled.
“Okay, but just don’t get caught.”
“I knew that stalker was wanted for assault. I found out two days ago.”
“You still could have been arrested, Callum. Even criminals have rights.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Or not. Callum’s first priority was protecting his clients. He had a strong conviction about that. Victims didn’t deserve to be forced into being victims. The menace that threatened them was a cancer that had to be carved out and stopped. That’s what had led him to a career as a bodyguard, and back home to support his family in a time of crisis.
“It turns out that’s not the only reason I asked you to stop by. I’ve got another case for you. Ever hear of the country singer Blake Reynolds?”
“No.” Callum liked country but didn’t pay attention to the artists’ names.
Outside, a black Mercedes SUV—one of the more economical versions—pulled to a stop on the side of the street. Callum caught sight of a woman with long dark hair in the driver’s seat. She had a fantastic profile. At the same time, a car stopped on the side of the street about two houses down.
Callum listened to Charles explain the new case while he turned back to the woman, who climbed out of the SUV and opened the back door. She worked to free a little girl from a car seat. Normally this was when he would have turned away from the sight of a mother and her child, but something about the woman made him keep watching—and stop listening to Charles. Maybe it was that tight body in those dressy black pants, or the curve of that slender waist, or the way her those perfectly shaped breasts strained against the white blouse.
She lifted the girl from the seat and lowered her to the ground. Holding a stuffed Cookie Monster in one arm, the child looked up at her mother and said something, to which the woman shook her head. The little girl didn’t appear to like the answer, an adorable pout forming beneath scrunching eyebrows, and she hugged the stuffed toy against the white top of a cute flaring black skirt. He felt an automatic pang at the adorable mother-daughter duo.
The mother went to the back of the Mercedes and lifted the hatch. Callum got a really nice view of her frame as she leaned in and retrieved two recyclable grocery bags. Setting those on the pavement, she reached in again and handed a plastic container to the little girl, who still frowned and continued to argue with her mother.
The beautiful woman crouched before her, her facial features striking him to the core. She spoke to the girl, whose frown finally smoothed.
Standing, the woman closed the hatch and lifted the bags, talking with the young girl. The child walked with short, clumsy steps beside her mother up the driveway to the front door of a house. When they disappeared inside, Callum realized how immersed he’d become in watching the woman and child. His stomach fell.
Then he looked down the street and saw the car that had pulled over was still there, with someone sitting in the driver’s seat. A man. He appeared to be watching the woman’s house, though he was too far away to get a good look inside. Out of habit, Callum checked the license plate but it was too far away to make out.
Charles appeared beside him, looking from the house across the street to him. “Have you heard a single word I’ve said?”
“Sorry, no.” Callum turned away from the window.
“The singer had a girlfriend who’s gone off the deep end. He’s afraid she’ll go after him.”
“Another one of those cases?” Only this time it would be a man he protected.
“They were together for six months and she started to get too clingy, so he ended it. He said he noticed other things, too, like catching her in lies. She told her friends they were getting married. She also told him she was pregnant but she wasn’t. He made her do a test and it was negative. When he asked why she lied, she said she was afraid she was going to lose him.”
“Does he have any kids?” Callum asked.
“No. You’ve made it perfectly clear you don’t want those kinds of cases—which you still haven’t told me why.” Charles looked out the window again. “I meant what I said about keeping things bottled up, Callum.”
“When do I go?” He didn’t like talking about why he never took mother-child cases. Charles tried to get him to every once in a while and Callum believed that Charles was concerned about him. He had become a good friend, aside from being Callum’s boss.
“He’s local. That’s how he heard of you.”
“Me?”
“Yeah. He asked for you by name. You’ll be working wit
h his usual security team.”
“He doesn’t think his own team will be enough?” What kind of woman had this new client broken up with?
Charles walked back to his desk and picked up a folder. “I printed these out for you. I also emailed them. You’ll understand more after you read it. He’s out of the country right now, but asked if you could stay at his place next month.”
Callum took the file. “Thanks.” Charles knew he liked studying cases on paper more than on a screen. Some things were still better offline, like holding a book instead of a tablet.
“Any news on your father?” Charles asked.
“He’s still in a coma. I’m heading over to the hospital after I go see my brother.” Payne Colton had been shot after receiving a bizarre email containing the shocking news about Ace. He didn’t say which brother he was going to see, since Ace was still a suspect in Payne’s shooting. When Callum and his twin sister—current Colton Oil CEO Marlowe—had visited Mustang Valley General Hospital last month, they were told that a fire broke out the morning of Ace’s birth and destroyed all records.
With one more look out the window that told him the car and the man were still there, Callum bade Charles farewell and left the building. But he couldn’t stop thinking about that parent and child. He couldn’t explain why he needed to make sure she was all right. A sixth sense told him something was off about the stranger in the car. Even though he had sworn off guarding families, he couldn’t ignore this. He’d make sure the woman and her daughter were okay and then he’d be on his way.
* * *
Hazel Hart took her now-cheerful daughter’s hand and walked with her toward the SUV. Earlier Evie had fussed about being told she could not go for ice cream today. Hazel’s schedule was far too busy. But Evie liked passing out cookies to Hazel’s clients. Hazel had told her five-year-old she could sample one with them. That had taken care of the ice cream tantrum.
Hazel glanced around. The street was quiet. This area of town didn’t get much traffic. On the edge of Mustang Valley, there was a lot of new development and not much commercial business. The back of the strip mall across the street hid most of the activity there, though landscaping along the sidewalk made it more palatable for residents. The client she’d just left enjoyed the convenience of Hazel’s home deliveries, especially since she had been taken ill with breast cancer. The woman was going to be all right, but had hired Hazel to provide her meals while she recovered. The woman had family but they all lived out of state and she didn’t like the food her neighbors prepared.
