Gwyneth Bolton - Protect and Serve

The stiff and stilted tone of voice as well as his clipped manner let her know Jason was only speaking to be polite and wanted to get it over with as soon as possible.

Fine with me.

He kept those sexy, daring brown eyes on her, though. The straight and serious line of his mouth made her long for the days when those lips held smiles only for her.

Even though she secretly longed to see him smile just once, so she could see if the sight of those perfect teeth, those full lips and the dimple in his right cheek still had the ability to make her heart stop, she knew it was a lost cause.

And she didn’t have time for things she couldn’t change, wrongs she couldn’t correct.

She only needed to bury her grandmother and get out of town so she could have the nice, private breakdown she’d been putting on hold since she got the news.

“Jason.” He wasn’t the only one who could give a one-word greeting. She would have been willing to forgo speaking at all. She could do very well without the just-under-the-surface bad feelings threatening to bubble over and explode.

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became an avid romance fan after sneak-reading her mother’s romance novels. In the nineties, she was introduced to African-American romance novels, and her life hasn’t been the same since. She has a B.A. and an M.A. in creative writing and a Ph.D. in English. She teaches writing and women’s studies at the college level. When she is not writing African-American romance novels, she is curled up with a cup of herbal tea, a warm quilt and a good book. She currently lives in Syracuse, New York, with her husband, Cedric. Readers can contact her via e-mail at gwynethbolton@prodigy.net or visit her Web site, http://www.gwynethbolton.com.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

This novel is dedicated to my mother Donna Pough,

my husband Cedric Bolton and every reader who has

reached out and shown me love. I appreciate and

love you all more than words could ever express.

Dear Reader,

Thanks for taking the time to read Jason and Penny’s story. This novel started with two questions: If home is where the heart is, what happens when you broke that heart long ago? Can you ever really go home again? Penny and Jason have some history, and they have some issues to work through before they can really connect and make their way back to one another. But their story, like other lovers-reunited stories, gives us hope for people being able to work out their differences and find love again. I’ve always wanted to write novels set in the city where I grew up—Paterson, New Jersey. When I wrote my first novels, the characters wanted to be from everywhere but places I’d actually lived in before. Imagine my surprise when this smart and sassy sister popped into my head, started whispering her story to me, and I realized she was a girl from home! I’m so happy the characters in my HIGHTOWER HONORS series are proving to me that I can go home again and take all of you with me. Be sure to pick up my September 2008 release, Make It Hot, for the next installment in the HIGHTOWER HONORS series.

Gwyneth Bolton

Acknowledgment

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Epilogue

First I want to thank God for the many blessings in my life, especially the blessing to share my stories. I’d like to thank my family: my mother, Donna, my sisters, Jennifer, Cassandra, Michelle and Tashina, my nieces Ashlee and Zaria and my husband, Cedric. I want to send lots of love to my friends Angelique Justin, Jennifer Thorington-Springer, Cheryl Johnson, Kimberly Dillon-Shively and Yolanda Hood. And I want to send thanks and lots of love to my writer friends who read sections of Protect and Serve at various stages and offered comments and feedback. Thanks, A.C. Arthur, Jennifer Talty, Kari Townsend and Eleanor Shields.

The worst part about funerals was, you had to make nice and be cordial to people you either despised or couldn’t care less about. There was something about death that brought out all the clichés: Life is short. You never know when you’re going to go. Treat each day like it’s your last. As if coming face-to-face with mortality would make a person want to “get right” before they had to explain to Saint Peter why they didn’t do better.

Penny Keys understood all of this in theory. But with Big Mama gone, she didn’t care about the niceties and what she should be doing.

Sophie Hightower embraced Penny as if the woman had been Big Mama’s closest friend, and ran off at the mouth about how good it was to see Penny again. And it was all Penny could do not to haul off cussing in the funeral home and shake up the staid and calm wake.

“Thanks, Sophie.” Penny couldn’t bring herself to fake pleasantries of any kind to this evil-mouthed, hateful old woman. She could barely manage a smile. Ever since getting the call from her mother, telling her Big Mama had passed away, Penny hadn’t been fully thinking or feeling. She’d functioned. She’d organized, planned, taken care of everything. But feeling? That was gone.

Heartbroken, dejected, lost…

Those words didn’t even begin to describe her mood. They certainly couldn’t cover the large hole that seemed to stretch on and on in her spirit. She only remembered feeling this empty one other time in her life. She’d had no idea the hollowness in her heart left over from that loss had any room for expansion. Yet there it was, growing and threatening to take her over at any moment if she dared let go of her tenuous grip on control.

Penny gave the funeral home another once-over, but still couldn’t find her mother, or anyone else who might save her from cursing Sophie out and making a mockery of Big Mama’s wake. Anyone, that is, but the man who caught her gaze immediately. Jason Hightower.

She knew the very second Sophie Hightower caught the passing glances between her and Jason, because the old woman’s fake smile dried up, and her well-wishing facial expression hardened ever so slightly. Sophie’s lips twisted as if she’d bitten into something bitter, and her shoulders reared back, causing her overly large bosom to poke out even more than the pointy cones already did. The tall, rich-mocha-complexioned woman with the full figure would have been considered forbidding on a good day. Once she had her panties in a bunch over one of her precious nephews possibly falling victim to an unworthy ’hood girl like Penny, forget about it…. Attitude overload.

Penny straightened her back and swallowed. She felt her hands clenching together at her side. She resisted the urge to take a scrunchie out of her purse, put her long locks in a ponytail, dig out the Vaseline and take off her earrings in preparation.