A Lover's Vow. Brenda Jackson

      Bobby Turner found it hard to think with two Glocks staring him in the face. What the hell happened? How had his cover been blown? And from the questions the two were firing at him, it had been blown to smithereens. He recognized the man as Dalton Granger, the person he was supposed to be protecting. However, he had no idea who the woman was, other than the one he’d assumed had been making a booty call.

      “You have two seconds to tell me who you are and why you were following me,” Dalton snarled, eyes locked on Bobby.

      Two seconds? He had to be kidding, Bobby thought, sweating profusely. When Dalton inched the gun closer, aiming right between his eyes, Bobby knew he wasn’t kidding, after all. “I wasn’t following you,” he stammered, barely able to get the words out. He hoped Roland and Stonewall had figured out what was going on. At twenty-four, he was too young to die, and from the look in Granger’s eyes, he was as good as dead.

      “I told you to let me handle this, Dalton,” the woman snapped.

      Not taking his eyes off Bobby, Granger snapped back, “I can take care of my own business.”

      “Ha!” The woman gave a snorted laugh. “You didn’t even know you’d been followed until I told you.”

      Bobby watched Granger’s jaw tighten. Evidently, he hadn’t liked being reminded of that. “Whatever.” Dalton’s features hardened even more at Bobby. “Are you going to answer my question? Why were you following me?”

      Bobby knew he had to think fast. “I wasn’t following you. My name is Bobby, and I have a girlfriend who lives in one of these condos. I was just sitting here keeping a watch out for her.” He’d given his real first name just in case they asked to see his driver’s license.

      “Then you’re a stalker,” the woman accused, inching her gun closer to his forehead.

      “No, I’m not a stalker. Just a concerned boyfriend.” He knew his story sounded as unbelievable as shit, but for the time being, he was sticking to it.

      “What’s her name?” Dalton threw the question out at him.

      Bobby frowned. “Whose name?”

      “Your girlfriend. I want to validate your story.”

      Bobby rolled his eyes as best he could with two Glocks pointed at him. “Come on, man. You think you know every person who lives around here?”

      The woman snorted. “If she’s a female, he probably knows her.”

      Bobby watched Dalton switch his gaze to glare over at the woman. “I told you I had this, Jules, so go home.”

      “Like hell I will.”

      Bobby drew in a deep breath. Were these the same two he’d seen kissing earlier? Evidently, they’d never made it to the bedroom.

      “I can put you in your car, you know,” Dalton snarled over at the woman he’d called Jules.

      She lifted her chin. “I’d like to see you try.”

      Bobby’s heart missed a beat. Were they actually standing here having a heated argument while holding guns on him? What if one of their fingers slipped and the gun accidentally fired? Shit. People would be reading about his dead ass in the papers tomorrow morning.

      “Excuse me.”

      Both Dalton and Jules stopped glaring at each other long enough to turn their attention back to him, snapping simultaneously, “What?”

      “If you don’t believe me, then I suggest you call the police,” Bobby said, hoping they wouldn’t take his suggestion. “At the moment, I’d feel safer in their hands than yours.”

      “We couldn’t care less how you feel,” Dalton snapped angrily. “If you have a girlfriend who lives around here, then give me a name or tell me why you were following me.”

      “I can answer that for you, Mr. Granger.”

      Dalton jerked around at the sound of the feminine voice to find a woman standing within ten feet of them with two big guys by her side. Where the hell had they come from? He quickly switched his aim from the man who’d claimed his name was Bobby to the trio, grateful Jules had taken stock of the situation, as well, and, like him, wasn’t taking any chances. She kept her gun aimed directly on Bobby while he kept his leveled on the three.

      “And just what can you tell me, Ms....?”

      “Boyett,” she said easily. “Carson Boyett.”

      Dalton frowned. Where had he heard that name before? He tossed the question around in his mind a few times, and then he remembered. It had come up during a conversation he’d had earlier that day with Jace and Caden. They had been discussing how to go about getting their father freed from jail. Jace had mentioned a man by the name of Carson Boyett...but this was no man. This was a very attractive woman.

      “Wait a minute,” he said slowly, staring at her. “Carson Boyett is...” He found it hard to get the words out as it hit him just who she was. She took pity on him and completed what he was hesitant to say.

      “Sheppard Granger’s attorney.”

      He lowered his gun. Shocked. “But we...my brothers and I assumed you were a man.”

      She chuckled softly. “But, as you can see, that’s not the case.”

      “Hey, not so fast,” Jules spoke up, operating on the side of caution. She glared at Dalton, not surprised he was being taken in by a pretty face. “Let’s see some ID. Now!”

      Carson Boyett nodded as a wry smile touched her lips. “You’re cautious. I like that. I’m going to need to stick my hand into the pocket of my jacket to get it.”

      “Fine. I suggest you do it slowly and easily, or Bobby here won’t live to see tomorrow.” Jules inched her gun closer to Bobby’s skull. “And I’m warning the two of you,” she said to the men standing beside Carson. “I suggest you not try any funny business, either.”

      If Dalton didn’t find it odd that his father’s attorney had two large, muscled men in tow, Jules certainly did. And what woman looked this put together in the middle of the night? Not a hair on Carson Boyett’s head was out of place. She was wearing a business suit and was well dressed, neat as a pin. It was cold outside, but she wasn’t wearing a coat. Jules wondered if that was intentional to show her toughness, her ability to endure what others might find grueling.

      She figured the woman’s age to be in her midforties, if that. Out of her peripheral vision, she saw that Dalton was checking the woman out, as well...but probably for entirely different reasons.

      Annoyed, she leaned over to him and whispered, “I heard you had a thing for older women, but need I remind you that something serious is going on here?”

      He had the nerve to chuckle. “Jealous?” he whispered back.

      “Hardly.”

      “Here you are,” Carson said, breaking into their private conversation, moving forward slowly and reaching out to hand her driver’s license to Dalton.

      He took it and scanned it a moment before handing it to Jules. “And who are these men with you?” Dalton wanted to know, feeling comfortable enough that he tucked his gun back inside his jeans.

      Carson hesitated a minute before answering. “Roland Summers on my right and Stonewall Courson on my left. They are friends.”

      Jules, who hadn’t reached that level of ease with them, kept her gun aimed on Bobby. “Friends?” she asked with a chuckle, while rolling her eyes. “Surely you can do better than that. Why would friends be hanging out at this time of night?”

      A smile touched Carson’s lips. “I could ask the two of you the same thing.”

      Dalton snorted. “Trust me. We aren’t friends.”

      “They