Jennifer Morey - Colton Family Bodyguard

Note to Readers

Dedication For my family, for always supporting me and the time I spend writing.

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

About the Publisher

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.