Page 3 of Lone Star Country Protector
Don’t go there. Not even hypothetically. It will literally unhinge you.
Mr. Bowman came up behind her, cutting into her little pep talk.
“Do you have a weapon?” she asked the older gentleman. “Hunting rifle? I’d take anything.”
“I’m afraid not,” he said as he came up beside her. “The wife, rest her soul, wasn’t comfortable keeping one around since the grandkids.” He stood next to her. “Is that your car running?”
“Yes,” she answered, grabbing at her side in an attempt to soothe the ache. “It is.”
“I can walk over there with you, if you’d like,” Mr. Bowman offered. “Hold on a second.”
He disappeared and then returned a few moments later with a fireplace poker, a baseball bat and a flashlight. He showed her the offerings. Mr. Bowman was a former runner who was in his early seventies. His build was slight, but she’d seen him out in his yard helping the landscaping crew spread mulch in his wife’s flower beds—beds that he’d kept going since losing her last year. The thirty-plus-pound bags were no joke to carry. Mr. Bowman would have one in each hand. Meaning, he was strong as an ox. She knew a few details of his life since he’d joined her at the food spread during last year’s holiday party.
“I’ll take the fireplace poker,” she said. “Thank you.”
He locked up behind them and pocketed his keys, and then she backtracked toward the car with Mr. Bowman a step behind.
Blakely needed to get to her phone. She had to call her sister immediately to inform her of the situation.IfSki Mask left her purse, which she doubted.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d said a prayer…elementary school? But that was exactly what she did as she neared her vehicle. She prayed her nephew would return to the scene unharmed too, figuring it couldn’t hurt.
Because kidnapping Chase was another reason Ski Mask might have taken off without pursuing her on foot.
An icy chill gripped her spine.
A marked SUV came roaring up, sirens blaring, along with a fleet vehicle from the Marshals Service. Would her nephew realize it was safe to come out of hiding? If that was the case, and she could only hope it was because the thought of Ski Mask taking Chase…
Blakely involuntarily shivered at the thought.
Chase, buddy, where are you?
Chapter Two
Dalton Remington, US marshal, parked on the tree-lined residential street and shut off his vehicle. He’d recognized Adamson’s name the second the assignment to protect the judge came down. He’d almost beat the local cop cruiser to the scene since he’d been outside of her neighborhood having dinner alone on his way home from court.
Houston PD exited his vehicle first. Dalton was only a couple steps behind.
Blakely Adamson was a dead ringer for a young Jessica Biel, bangs included. Except that Blakely was even more beautiful, in his opinion. Seeing her again was a jolt. The last time, they’d been arms and legs in a tangle in the sheets during the best weekend of his life. Until they broke the rule they’d agreed on at the outset: no discussion of personal lives. On Sunday morning, before checkout time at the Galveston house rental, she’d asked what he did for a living over breakfast in bed. She’d joked that he had law-enforcement swagger and then followed up by asking if he was Dallas PD because she thought she saw something of his with the logo in the back seat of his car.
His response had sent the covers flying. He’d never seen someone get out of bed and dress so damn fast a firefighter would be jealous.
Blakely had sped off, and that was it. They hadn’texchanged numbers, so he’d left it at that. Disappointed didn’t begin to describe his mood after she’d made a beeline for the door. There were a lot of people who refused to date anyone in law enforcement due to the dangerous nature of the job.
Now, he suspected he knew the reason she’d bolted. It wouldn’t be considered professional for a judge to date someone from the US Marshals Service, considering he could be assigned to protect her. Though, she didn’t look much like a stuffy judge while wearing form-hugging athletic wear. The purple sports shirt that fit like a second skin and coordinated leggings highlighted a body meant for making love slowly on Sundays and breakfasts in bed. He shelved the thought, considering the feeling wasn’t mutual.
The temptation to write down her plate number had been strong as she’d driven away weeks ago. Not now. Dalton had never chased anyone. His pride wouldn’t allow him to start anytime soon no matter how deep their connection had been.
So deep she couldn’t get away from you fast enough, dude!
Blakely’s gaze widened as it settled on his face, but panic seemed to win out.
Scanning the area, Dalton didn’t like the judge standing on the sidewalk, exposed. There were too many places for a perp to hide, get off a shot with a rifle.
“Let’s move this inside,” Dalton said to her. No need for introductions, and there was no time for courtesies while she was in danger.
“No,” Blakely quickly countered. “I need to call my sister and search for my nephew.”
“That’s not a good idea,” Dalton stated. “Someone assaulted you, and it’s my job to keep you safe, Your Honor.”
