Captivated by Love (Grangers Book 1) Page 20

  Dalton rolled his eyes. “You’re still missing the point. It’s about responsibility in the bedroom.”

  “Oh,” Jules said, thumping her chin with the tip of her finger several times. “Oh, I see. You’re saying men don’t make mistakes? That they can’t get so caught up in the moment that birth control can’t be an afterthought? That passion can’t take over your mind and make you forget everything?”

  Dalton glared at his wife. “Now what’s your point?”

  Jules tilted her head to look up at him. “The point is, Dalton Richard Granger, that your wife is pregnant. So explain that.”

  The entire room got deathly quiet. It seemed even the logs crackling in the fireplace ceased to make a noise. And had Sheppard imagined it but did the lights on the Christmas tree miss a blink?The look of total and complete shock on his youngest son’s face was something he’d never forget, definitely worthy of being a Kodak moment. Caden thought so and pulled out his cell phone and snapped a picture.

  Everyone held their breaths, waiting for Dalton’s comeback. He finally broke his silence, coming out of his shocked state and asking in a stunned voice, “How? When?”

  Jules smiled sweetly. “How? I can tell you that easily.” She leaned over and whispered something in her husband’s ear. Sheppard wondered what she’d said when he saw Dalton’s tight jaw loosen up some.

  Jules then leaned away from Dalton and actually winked at him. “And as to when, Dalton…” She again leaned forward and whispered into his ear.

  Sheppard stared and watched as his son’s eyes widened and then a huge smile touched his lips. He wasn’t sure what Jules had reminded Dalton of but evidently the memory was bringing him out of his crazy stupor.

  “Hey, no fair,” Jace shouted out. “No whispering. We want to know the how and when as well.”

  “Mind your own business, Jace,” Dalton said before pulling his wife in his arms and kissing her in front of everyone.

  When it seemed they’d forgotten they had an audience, Sheppard cleared his throat. Dalton released his wife’s mouth. A non-apologetic grin touched his lips. “Sorry about that.”

  “So tell us, Dalton,” Caden asked. “How did Jules get pregnant when you claim Grangers don’t get women pregnant? What part of Granddad’s birds and the bees lecture did you miss?”

  “Kiss it, Caden. I didn’t miss any of it. Jules is not just any woman, she’s my wife. That’s makes a difference.”

  “So, you’re happy about it?” Jules asked her husband.

  He smiled down at her. “Yes, I am very happy about it because I know you’ll have the ability to take care of our baby and still take care of me. No sweat.”

  “It’s not all about you, Dalton,” Jace said, shaking his head. “I can’t wait until the baby comes and you find that out.”

  Sheppard glanced around the room, his heart nearly bursting in his chest at the sight of all the people he loved. They were his family. The Grangers. Even Hannah. He believed that if his father had lived, Richard would have eventually made Hannah his wife.

  “I am happy,” he said, pulling Carson close to his side. “This will be a special Christmas this year. Three new Grangers have been created. Our legacy lives on.”

  He then looked down at his wife and knew he was totally and completely captivated by love. Her love.

  EPILOGUE

  A month later...

  This is Connie Moore reporting live from the Martin Luther King, Jr. Performing Arts Center for the annual I Have A Dream Charity Ball. Everyone in attendance is dressed to the nines and out in large numbers tonight. Mayor Ivan Greene is here and as soon as he comes over this way, we will snag him for an interview. Earlier we caught up with Sheppard Granger and his lovely wife Carson Boyett Granger, who told us about the strides the Sheppard Granger Foundation for Troubled Teens have been making. We are looking forward to hearing more wonderful things about this organization in the future…

  Carson checked her watch and then glanced up at her husband. “It’s not like Roland to be so late.”

  Sheppard nodded and took a sip of his punch. They were surrounded by his sons and their wives as well as Striker Jennings, Quasar Patterson and Stonewall Courson. Also included were Shana and Jules’ father, Ben Bradford and his wife Mona. The only person missing was Roland. “I’m sure he’s on his way, sweetheart,” he assured Carson. He knew she was right to be worried. Roland was seldom late for anything.

  “I talked to him less than an hour ago,” Striker offered. “He was leaving home then. Unless he made a pit stop somewhere, he should have been here by now.”

  Sheppard didn’t say anything as he glanced over at the entrance. He hoped Roland walked through the door soon, or else Carson would continue to worry. Tonight was one for celebration since he planned to tell the world about the latest additions to the Granger family. Carson had had her first doctor’s appointment, and according to the doctor, the soon-to-be-mother was doing fine. There shouldn’t be any complications during this pregnancy.

  Sheppard had been present during that doctor’s visit and he doubted he’d ever forget how he’d felt when he heard the sound of their baby’s heartbeat. Whenever he thought about the fact there would be three Granger babies born within weeks or days of each other, he was almost overwhelmed with joy.

  “Who is that?” Stonewall asked, staring at a woman on the opposite side of the room.

  Everyone’s head turned, but it was Jules who spoke up. “Oh, that’s Joy Ingram. Detective Joy Ingram.”

  Stonewall’s head snapped around. “She’s a cop?”

  Jules smiled. “Yes, and a really good one. She transferred to the city a year and a half ago. You want an introduction?”

  Before Stonewall could answer, Striker spoke up. “She’s a cop, Jules. Stonewall doesn’t do cops.”

  “I’ll make an exception this time,” Stonewall quickly countered. “Yes, Jules, please introduce us.” It didn’t take long before Detective Ingram was within range for Jules to snag her attention.

  Sheppard who’d been quietly observing things unfold knew Stonewall well enough to know he was definitely attracted to the woman wearing the emerald green dress. He wondered if Stonewall even realized he was still holding the woman’s hand as introductions were being made.

  Sheppard was finding the entire scene amusing. This was the first time he’d ever known Stonewall to be taken with any woman, and the fact that she was a cop definitely made things interesting. It was a known fact that Stonewall didn’t particularly like cops. But Shep would admit the woman was beautiful. Umm, he wondered…

  Carson opened her purse and checked her phone. If Roland was running late, she hoped he would have texted her to let her know why. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw his number appear on her phone. “I got a missed call from Roland,” she said to everyone. She then excused herself from the group to stand in a quieter area to call him back.

  Sheppard had been laughing at something Ben had said when he happened to glance over to Carson. The look on her face immediately alerted him that something was very wrong. He was about to go to her when she hurried back to the group. Obvious signs of panic were on her face.

  “Carson? Sweetheart? What’s wrong?” he asked, reaching out for her when it looked as if she would pass out.

  His words got everyone’s attention. They turned to glance over at Carson who looked quite upset about something. “Someone used Roland’s phone to call me from the hospital.”

  “The hospital?” Sheppard asked, not understanding.

  Carson nodded. “Yes. Someone tried hijacking Roland’s car on his way here tonight. He’s been shot.”

  “Shot!” A chorus of voices said in disbelief.

  “Yes.” Carson took a deep breath, trying hard to pull herself together. “We need to get to the hospital, Sheppard. They had to rush Roland into surgery and the person I talked to said it didn’t look good.”

  “Let’s go.” Taking his wife’s hand, Sheppard quickly ushe
red her toward the exit doors. It was going to be a long night….

  THE PLOT THICKENS IN THE PROTECTOR SERIES

  Book 1 – Striker Jennings’ story titled

  FORGED IN DESIRE

  Coming January 31, 2017

  Click here to preorder book:

  From Amazon - http://amzn.to/2f9OgKI

  From Barnes and Nobles - http://bit.ly/2fxMVub

  Turn the page for a sneak peek at Forged in Desire (Book 1 of the Protector Series, Striker Jennings’ story)

  - SNEAK PEEK -

  THE GRANGER SERIES CONTINUES WITH

  THE PROTECTOR SERIES

  By Brenda Jackson

  **

  Margo head jerked up. “What?! You hired him without consulting me?”

  “I saw no need. He came highly recommended, Margo. I understand he’s good at what he does and that’s what I want.”

  That wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted to vet her own bodyguard. The last thing she needed was someone breathing down her neck, watching her every move and telling her what she could and could not do, which is exactly what the sort of man her uncle hired would do.

  “And I hope you follow his orders, Margo. His job is to keep you alive.”

  She scowled at him. “Since he came so highly recommended, I’m sure that he will.”

  Margo drew in a deep breath. She hated being a smart mouth; however, the thought of another man crowding her space for any reason—even to keep her alive—didn’t sit well with her. She and Scott had lived in separate apartments and had tossed around the idea of moving in together. He was more for it then she was. During the weekends he had stayed over at her place, she’d been more than ready for him to leave on Monday morning. He never picked up after himself and depended on her to do practically everything. She’d begun to feel like his personal assistant rather than his lover.

  She leaned back against the sofa. Her uncle moved from the window to take the chair across from her. “So what do you know about this person whose presence I have to put up with for no telling how long?” she asked. “Who recommended him, Uncle Frazier?”

  There was a long pause. Hadn’t her uncle heard her question? Just in case, she repeated it.

  “Someone I know.”

  “So this person has used him before?”

  “Not sure.”

  She lifted a brow. “Yet you’ve taken his word for it?” She could tell her questions were agitating him. She was ready to dig deeper when the doorbell rang.

  “I hope that’s him,” her uncle said, standing quickly.

  She stood as well. A part of her hoped it wasn’t him. Why did she feel certain her life would be changing? Probably because it would. A madman was on the loose. A killer for hire. Did Murphy Erickson really think he would be set free from prison? If nothing else, these additional deaths were on his hands. Had the man forgotten that Virginia was a death-penalty state? Did he care?

  Margo moved toward the door, her uncle right on her heels. She started to say something and decided not to waste her time. What was the point? Her uncle had arranged for her to have a bodyguard regardless of whether she wanted one or not.

  Upon reaching the door, she turned to her uncle. “Like I said, I won’t have him underfoot, Uncle Frazier.”

  “If it means keeping you alive, I don’t care if he’s underarm,” he responded tersely.

  She rolled her eyes before turning back to the door. “Who is it?”

  “Striker Jennings.”

  Striker? What kind of name was that?

  She turned to her uncle, who nodded and said, “That’s him.”

  She wanted to see what kind of guy went by the name Striker. She stared through the peephole and, as if he knew what she was doing, he looked directly at her. The moment their gazes connected, something—she wasn’t sure what—made her breath catch.

  Her uncle heard it and quickly asked, “What’s wrong?”

  Margo drew in a deep breath as she pulled away. “Nothing.” She was lying. Who was this man? Why did just staring into his eyes have such an effect on her? The thought that he would be sharing her space…for who knows how long…was rather unsettling.

  “Well, aren’t you going to let him in?”

  Instead of answering her uncle’s question, she opened the door. And there he stood. The man named Striker Jennings. Instead of focusing on his eyes like before, she took in the entire man. And what a man he was. He was tall, way over six feet. And he was big. Muscular in a dark business suit and looking totally professional and serious. Why was her gaze intrigued by his broad shoulders, bulging biceps and flat abs? And those heavily lashed, dark eyes, the same ones she had stared into just moments ago, seemed to say, “Go ahead and try me.”

  Try him? Margo swallowed deeply while thinking, How? With what? And for how long? She snapped back to her senses when her uncle came around to verify the man’s identity and said, “Show me credentials.”

  Although the man gave her uncle a look that all but told him what he could do with the credentials he’d asked for, the man shifted his duffel bag into the other hand before pulling an identification card from his jacket pocket. She and her uncle looked at it. Lamar Jennings. So Striker wasn’t his real name. And he worked for a Summers Security Firm. There was a nice picture of him, but the real thing standing in front of her was so much better. Almost too much. Far too pleasing on any woman’s eyes. His nutmeg-colored facial features were way too mesmerizing. Way too captivating to even be considered merely handsome. Definitely riveting. She noted there was nothing soft about him and detected a hardness that would kick ass first and ask questions later.

  Her uncle handed the ID card back to him. “Come on in, Jennings.”

  “Striker,” he corrected, not moving an inch. It was as if he needed to establish a few things up front and what he wanted to be called was one of them.

  Her uncle didn’t say anything, and she wondered if he would. Although he often accused her of being stubborn, Frazier Connelly could be just as stubborn. Even more so. The two men stared hard at each other and then, as if her uncle had decided it would be in his best interest to be the one to concede, he said, “Okay. Come in, Striker.”

  She stepped aside when he walked past her and she closed the door behind him.

  “You come highly recommended,” her uncle was saying, extending his hand out to the man.

  “Do I?” Striker replied, accepting her uncle’s handshake.

  “Yes, and this is my niece, Margo Connelly. The woman I’m depending on you to keep safe.”

  He turned his dark, penetrating eyes on her. She could feel a deep stirring in the pit of her stomach when he extended his hand out to her. “Ms. Connelly.”

  Margo accepted his hand and suddenly an intense rush of desire tore into her. It took everything she had not to snatch her hand back. She’d never met this man before. Didn’t know a thing about him other than that he’d been hired by her uncle. Yet she was attracted to him. She’d heard of sudden attraction but had never been the recipient of it, until now.

  Even though he was impeccably dressed in a business suit, she detected a rough edge. And she suspected if the need arose, he could be lethal. As far as she was concerned, lethal and good-looking was one hell of a combination. She was a woman and there was nothing wrong with appreciating a well-muscled, nicely built man when she saw one.

  “Mr. Jennings,” she said, pulling her hand from his.

  “Striker,” he corrected.

  Instead of acknowledging his correction, Margo didn’t say anything, not sure she could find her voice even if she’d wanted to. At that moment a semblance of heated desire fanned low in her stomach. On top of that, her mind was still reeling from the sensations caused from their handshake. She felt irritated wondering what in the world was going on here. Putting the appreciation thing aside, it was totally unlike her to be this affected by any man. Although she relished eye-candy like any other female might, she’d never let a man bring out the lustful si
de of her. In fact, to be totally honest, she hadn’t been aware she had one until now. She hadn’t been involved with a man since Scott. And that had been her choice. Her passion was her work and it superseded any intimate feminine needs. She’d learned not to place any man at the top of her pedestal.

  That decision had come about after her last two serious relationships had left a bad taste in her mouth. Her attitude was that she didn’t need a man to be happy since all they seemed to do was disappoint her anyway. She liked her life just the way it was. Uninvolved, unattached and drama-free. At least it had been drama-free before the Erickson trial.

  As Margo continued to study the man who’d entered her home, she had a feeling she was in a heap of trouble that had nothing to do with any assassin’s attempt on her life.

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