by Nicole Snow
“Company you just fed,” I remind her. “Where I come from, it’s only fair to pitch in. Please, it’s the least I can do, and honestly? I’d love a closer look at your coffee bar.”
Amy opens her mouth, ready to protest again, but then just smiles.
The guys head for the garage, and it takes us no time to clear the table and load the dishwasher. Then we’re both gliding over to that desk like bees on honey.
It’s a handsome old piece, solid oak with two narrow cupboards, all painted white.
Hanging above it between the cupboards, there’s a cute hand-painted sign on the wall that says I like my sugar with a splash of coffee.
“Could I see the tailgate, too?” I ask.
“Sure!” Amy waves, leading me along. “It’s in the laundry room, leaning against the wall so it doesn’t get dirty. It took hours to scrub it clean when I saved it from Dad.”
The moment I see the old, faded red tailgate, my heart races with excitement. It’s too perfect. “Have you thought about using it for your coffee bar?”
“Can’t say I have. How?”
“Can we carry it in there? I’ll show you,” I say, already reaching for it.
Amy grabs the other end and we haul it into the kitchen, clear off the desk and wipe it down, then lift the tailgate onto the top of the desk. It hangs over a small amount on the edges but looks solid enough.
“Hmm. Ya know, I think I like it,” she tells me after studying it for a moment.
“It’s special,” Alicia says, looking over it from behind us. “Never would’ve thought to use something like that in the kitchen, but I’m starting to see it...”
Good because now that I’m on a roll, we’re just getting started.
“You ladies like wine, right? How about a coffee and wine bar? Some homes in Milwaukee mix and match. It’s all the rage right now.” I glance at the small wine rack on top of the fridge.
“My favorites!” Amy chirps. “Tell me more.”
“Do you have a piece of paper?” I ask.
She pulls open a drawer on the desk, then hands me a notebook and pen.
I rapid-fire sketch out the desk with the tailgate on top of it and the two cupboards. Then, as I’m drawing, I poke a finger at each part and start to explain.
“If you remove the fronts of the drawers, we can go online and order the stuff for a mini barn door. Instead of doors on the cupboards, use a couple floor mats from Jess’ dealership cut to fit, then, up here, between the cupboards, we can paint the wall with chalkboard paint. They have some really cute chalk pens in florescent colors. We could write 'How To Tell Time.'”
I sketch that in.
“On this cupboard with the coffee, you can get some black vinyl stickers and put AM. On this one, do PM. Under the AM one, you can store your coffee maker and supplies, maybe throw in a good grinder and a French press. Under PM, install the wine rack that’s on top of the fridge. Then it’s just a few hangers going up on the undersides of the cupboards to hang cups on one side and wine glasses on the other.”
“Oh my God, is there anything you didn’t think of?” Amy squeals, holding up her fists and giving them a shake. “And the floor mats from the dealership, Jess will even approve!”
“It’s perfect,” Alicia agrees. “When can you start on my place?”
She slaps my shoulder and I grin.
“I’ll check my schedule!” Another thought strikes me then. “And where are the hubcaps, Amy?”
“I’ll go grab them,” she says, heading back to the laundry room off the kitchen.
“I’m serious about a paying gig,” Alicia says. “I mean, I know you’re probably not that hard up for money, but you’re a ninja, lady. I’d love to see what you can do, if it won’t break the bank.”
“It won’t.” I give her a grateful smile. “I’d love all the practice I can get. I’m still working on that black belt. I just...I really love making old stuff functional again. Especially when it means something like this tailgate.”
I pat the big red metal slab.
“I only have two!” Amy calls, returning with two baby moon hubcaps with faded red writing, plus an old steering wheel.
“You just need one,” I say happily. “Again, go online and order a clock kit. Drill a hole in the center, set the clock inside, and hang it up between the cupboards. Boom, there’s your wine and coffee jam.”
“Adorable!” Amy slips a hand over her mouth and giggles. “Oh, what about the steering wheel?”
It, too, is a cool old all-metal wheel.
“Well...you could mount it under the cupboard and get some S-hooks to hang the coffee cups off of. Or you could use it as a divider. Put it on top of a metal tray whenever you want something interesting to show your guests.”
“Love, love, love it,” she muses again. “You’re sure you didn’t learn this stuff in California?”
“Nope. All Wisconsin, born and raised. Give me a little time to play around with that last idea,” I say, flipping the wheel in different directions. “Maybe something else will come to me.”
Amy hugs me. And when I say hug, I mean Hug with a capital H.
Apparently, Dallas people mean it when they express their gratitude.
Sure, it’s a little harder to breathe, but I’m not complaining.
It’s rare to encounter folks who are this open and real with their emotions.
“I’ll order everything this afternoon and call you to come see it when it’s done!” Amy tells me, giddy at the thought.
“Got any ideas for an old, faded red truck hood?” Alicia says.
I shrug. “Without seeing it, I’m just throwing out ideas, but how about a headboard?”
Alicia’s eyes grow wide. “Oh, my God! My son would love that, too. I promised we’d get rid of the teddy bears in his room. He’s nine now, and far too old for them.”
“Make him a clock, too, sis,” Amy says. “I only need one hub cap.”
“For sure. Let’s see how things will look,” I say, picking up the coffee maker we’d moved earlier.
We spend roughly the next hour setting things in place and laughing, talking about other areas in the house Amy wants to change.
“Can I get your number, Grace?” Amy asks at the end. “I won’t bombard you, but I might have questions when I get everything ordered and start working on things.”
“Me, too?” Alicia asks.
“No problem.” I can’t believe how happy I am right now.
Could I ever make this work?
If Ridge helps me deal with Clay, I get Dad settled, and I line up enough work in this area through word of mouth...could I actually make a life here?
The thought of having another place to call home hasn’t entered my head since we left the farm.
But now, I wonder...
The guys return as we’re swapping numbers. Amy instantly pulls Jess over to the drawing and starts explaining everything to him.
“Whoa,” Jess muses, slowly glancing my way. “You hit the nail on the head with this. My wife would be dead to the world without coffee and wine.”
Amy elbows him playfully and they both laugh.
With the Berlands and Mills chattering away excitedly, Ridge grabs my hand and gives it a firm squeeze.
The look he gives me says it all.
His proud blue eyes instantly catapult me to cloud nine.
We leave a short time later.
As we’re driving away from the house, he says, “You really enjoyed that, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, it’s been a long time.”
“You just decorated my house and did a damn fine job,” he tells me.
I laugh. “I meant hanging out with people. Women. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed that.”
“You didn’t have lady friends back home to visit?”
My eyes sink to the road. He doesn’t realize how hard it was to keep friends. Not when Dad and his situation with Clay has eaten so much of my life since college.
&
nbsp; “I knew people, sure, had a few friends, but the way things were...” I swallow the harsh lump building in my throat.
It really wasn’t safe for anyone to get close for long. Especially the last year, living on pins and needles.
“No, I never got to visit with them much,” I say glumly.
“Won’t happen here. You made two new friends today, woman,” he says, flashing me a million-dollar grin.
I smile back because I can’t resist, even knowing friends aren’t really something I can have here, either. Hard to plan a life when there’s no telling where we’ll wind up, after all of this is said and done.
“I still don’t quite follow the plan, Ridge. Not everything.”
“My plan right now is to make that stop at the drug store,” he tells me.
I try my best not to flush and fail miserably.
Of course he’s after those condoms.
My cheeks burn, my heart races, and common sense tells me that I really shouldn’t keep having sex with him. Even if every screaming bit of me wants to.
“I meant the plan with Clay...” I look at him carefully. “Calling his bluff. We’ve done that. We’ve got people with their eyes peeled, so now what?”
“Bebe’s working on gauging the reaction to the press releases confirming our engagement, which will piss him off. He’ll be hard-pressed to try anything too major with the town spotlight glaring, eyes out everywhere for those media jackals I warned them about. Chances are, this shit just makes him angrier.”
“Angrier?” Ice runs through my blood. “Why are we trying to piss him off again?”
“Assholes like him hate backing down from a fight. Especially if he’s been thwarted before, blocked from snatching what he thinks he’s entitled to. Clay won’t give up easy. Eventually, he’ll make his way here to take care of business himself. We’ll be ready.”
What he said could be true.
Clay will show up when his men don’t deliver what he wants.
Namely, me.
“I mean...a few cameras and townspeople on the lookout for bad behavior won’t keep him away.” I scratch my head, fighting the sensation of ants crawling all over me when I picture that maniac coming here. “I know you mentioned friends helping you go after him, but—”
“But nothing. Just like I told Nelson, my guys are good, and so am I. Unless you want to hear war stories, where I tell you about the time Faulk and I took down fifty guys with spoiled MREs...let’s save the details for later. Okay, darlin’?”
He parks the truck in front of the drugstore.
We lock eyes. Whatever else this thing is between us, I trust him. I have to.
Gripping his hand, I nod firmly.
“Want to come inside or wait here?” he asks.
“I’ll wait. Doors locked, of course.”
He lifts an eyebrow and smiles as he opens his door. “Be right back.”
A thrill zips through me and I shake my head.
This time at myself.
I’m hopeless, and I push those thoughts aside as I question what, besides cameras, Ridge has lined up. I can’t imagine what he’s referring to with his buddies, but I try to imagine it’s enough to stop Clay and save us from the black depths we’ve fallen into.
When Ridge returns, I try not to think about what’s in the bag he stows in the back seat, what it means for us tonight.
“How much do you know about the Old Town Boys?” he whispers, starting the engine.
He checks the screen on the console, focused on backing up. I can’t help but admire how his profile looks as handsome as the rest of him.
No wonder he was such a star. All chiseled lines, features that are flawless, yet human. He has the kind of looks people fret over. Either because they’re as smitten as I am, or they’re jealous they don’t have it.
He glances my way, and I suddenly remember his question.
“Old Town Boys? I’ve barely heard of them. Dad hardly ever said the name.”
“You know it’s what Clay Grendal calls his group of men.” He glances at me darkly. “You know they’re dangerous. What I’m asking is, do you know what they do?”
My skin crawls, a shiver of pure dread turning my stomach. “Dad never told me much, and to be honest, I never wanted to know more than I had to. I guess I just...I always thought if I didn’t know, it wasn’t fully real. Or maybe I could pretend it wasn’t as bad as it really is. Stupid, I know. But part of me never wanted to believe Dad was part of the mob.”
“Not the mob,” he says. “An insider crime syndicate based in your own backyard. They’ve been operating for years, a couple decades, barely ever showing up on anyone’s radar.”
“What’s the difference?” I ask, wrinkling my nose. “A gangster thug by any definition is still bad.”
“Not my point.” He glances my way again, those eyes flashing with energy. “Who protects them, Grace?”
Not following, I shake my head. “What do you mean?”
“Clay Grendal’s uncle is a former Congressman. Runs a huge lobbying firm in D.C. now. His cousin is a Milwaukee police lieutenant. Narcotics division.”
“He’s a drug runner?”
“Grendal isn’t running the whole show. He’s just the biggest gear in the machine, the overseer of a major operation based out of Milwaukee. His family keeps his shit under the radar and collects their cut.”
Jesus.
I always felt like something bigger was going on, but never would’ve guessed it was this. Goosebumps pepper my arms as my mind races. “That’s why Dad could never go to the police...”
I run a hand through my hair, trying to wrap my head around how deep this goes.
“How do you know all this?”
“Faulkner helped me dig it up. I’ve had him checking into it, and he’s gone a hundred feet down. On the outside, Grendal seems like an upstanding citizen. An angel investor who funnels money into several Milwaukee auto shops, food places, and other small businesses. He even sits on the coalition to address the opioid crisis in Milwaukee.”
“Holy crap...that animal?” I want to vomit. “All those connections, friends in high places...it must be how he’s laundering his dirty money.”
I’ve seen enough crime shows to know that’s key to any successful black-market business.
“Damn right.”
I wish I could thank him for the information, but it’s more like I’ve been whacked on the head with a brick.
Sure, I always knew Clay was evil and powerful, but...
I never imagined it went to this level.
Never wanted to believe my father was a part of something so sinister.
“Does Dad know about all of this?” I ask, holding my breath, dreading the answer.
“Haven’t asked him yet, considering his recovery and all, but I believe he knows most of it.” Ridge looks at me. “He never told you?”
“Never.” I shake my head, feeling this heatwave pulsing through me, pushing the fear aside.
I’m not just scared for my life anymore.
Now?
I’m pissed.
18
No Cold Feet (Ridge)
I close Faulk’s latest email attachments and lean back in my chair.
Had I known how deep, dark, and dangerous Grace and Nelson’s situation was when I first met them, would I have gotten involved? There was no way I could’ve known. Grace doesn’t even know everything. Still doesn’t.
My answer hasn’t changed over the past few days we’ve been lying low, time passing by the melting snow under a sudden warmth with a whiff of spring.
Fuck yes, I would’ve gotten involved.
It’s becoming harder by the hour to imagine my life without this chapter, and without this woman.
Of course it’s insane.
Of course I know how it sounds.
Of course I might be absolutely goddamn punch-drunk on the hottest wall-climbing sex of my life.
And, yeah, of course it’s so reckless I’l
l probably earn a lifetime of dirty looks from Tobin if he ever figures out what’s brewing in my head.
I don’t care.
Right now, I’m fixing to shred Grendal and his henchmen with my bare hands to give Grace a second chance—one where she stays in Dallas, if that’s what she decides.
Huffing out a breath, I stand, then walk out of my office.
Our conversation from the drive home the other day sticks in my head, how little she knew about everything I told her. I still don’t know everything I need to, and it’s high time I do.
Grace went over to see her father this morning, and as far as I know, she’s still there.
I don’t want to set Nelson’s health back, but I need to know more, so I can pull Faulk together with the rest of the guys. Get a solid plan in place. End this fuckery once and for all.
I’ve told Grace and Nelson that I already have a plan.
I haven’t lied, I have contingencies for defending the ranch.
Still, they’re a far cry from a real tactical blueprint involving the right crew when there’s so little to go on.
Not yet.
Grace is sitting in the bedroom, talking with her dad when I enter the cabin.
“How’s he doing this afternoon?” I ask Jackie.
“Considering how much he fussed over lunch, I’d say pretty well. He’s making a wonderful recovery, but, as I have to keep reminding him...Nelson still has a ways to go. He needs to take it easy so there aren’t any setbacks.”
I’ve never really wondered before, but ask, “Are you a nurse at the hospital when you aren’t doing this home care thing?”
“No. I only do these jobs to keep my license active and save up for vacations. I retired a few years ago so I could take care of my grandson when my daughter-in-law—well, former daughter-in-law—ran off to become a model.” She shakes her head. “That didn’t work out too well. However, my son did find himself a lovely new woman and married her. My grandson is now in school, so they don’t need me as much as they used to.” Smiling, she continues. “I live with them. That’s why I was ready to rock and roll, as long as you need me.”
“Glad it’s working for you.” There’s another reason why I’m damn glad she’s here, besides taking care of Nelson. Jackie’s presence moved Grace into the house. “What do you think, then? Maybe two, three more weeks before he’s able to get around freely again?” I ask.
