“Haven’t you guessed?”
The cunning calculation in his half smile made her sit up straighter. She sifted through her knowledge and came up with one possibility.
“Kris,” she said. “We’re going to see your daughter.”
“Not just a pretty face, are you?” His speculative gaze crawled over her. “I can see what caught your husband’s eye.” Heat slithered into his tone. “I haven’t had a woman in twenty years. Maybe I’ll take you and see how Eddy-boy likes losing loved ones.”
Joan stomped on the brake, bringing the RV to a shuddering halt. Something shattered in the distance. Not wearing a seatbelt, McKay shot out of his seat and crashed into the dashboard. When he shook his head and his eyes failed to focus, guilt stabbed at her chest. She ignored the damn thing.
“How dare you.” She towered over him, jabbing her finger into his shoulder. “My husband gave up his family to protect us from the likes of you.” Another jab. “My babies haven’t had a father for twenty years. Twenty years!”
She stormed into the clinic, found some gauze, and marched back to her kidnapper. Slapping the netted material onto his bleeding head wound, she grabbed his free hand and laid it on top of the dressing. “Keep pressure on it. I don’t want you bleeding all over Evie’s office.”
Plopping back into the driver’s seat, she resumed their trek through the mountains. This time, at her pace.
Gun slack in his hand, McKay stared at her as if she’d sprouted horns and breathed fire.
“What do you mean Eddy gave up his family?”
Joan risked a glance in her sideview mirror again and her heart stuttered to a halt. In the far distance, a caravan of Steeles trailed behind the RV. Eddy’s SUV, Britt’s Old Blue, Grif’s minivan, and Jonah’s Tesla. The only ones missing were Reid’s pickup and Micki’s motorcycle.
Eddy was alive. She sent up a prayer for her daughter.
“After Eddy sent you to prison, he went into exile, only seeing his family on rare special occasions.”
McKay blinked several times as if to clear a great fog from his mind.
“But he didn’t break his promise to you. He watched over Kris, made sure she was protected, loved, and wanted for nothing.”
“She doesn’t know me.”
The raging steam guiding her was gone, leaving her boneless and exhausted. “No, she doesn’t. Maybe that’s the sacrifice you made when you decided to get mixed up with the wrong people and kill a cop. A cop who was your brother, Eddy’s friend, and husband to the wife who raised your daughter.”
“I never meant to kill Jack. He was my baby brother. The only family I had, besides my little girl.” Desolation flooded his eyes, and his voice turned hollow. “Kris was the only thing that got me through prison. Knowing she was out here, waiting for me. She was my one bright light.” He swallowed and looked away. A hard edge entered his voice. “A light that’s been snuffed out by your husband.”
“Eddy gave her the choice. She chose not to meet you.”
He released a bitter laugh. “Why would she want anything to do with a convict father when she has perfect Eddy?”
“Eddy’s far from perfect, but forcing your daughter into a meeting isn’t going to endear you to her. Kidnapping me won’t either.”
McKay slammed his palm against the dashboard. “Fuck!”
“Language, Henry McKay!”
He sent her a scorching look before dropping his head between his braced arms. He spoke in a voice so quiet that Joan barely caught his words. “I wish I could’ve just heard her voice. I’ve always imagined it to be sweet and pure, like her mama’s.”
The resignation in his words made Joan’s throat clench. A parent’s despair. She knew that feeling. Knew it well.
Joan found a straight patch of road and pulled over. They stared out the windshield for several seconds, before she slid her phone out of her thigh pocket.
“How about we call her and find out?”
Wary hope lit his eyes. “But she doesn’t want anything to do with me.”
Joan shook her head. “She doesn’t want to meet you. There’s a difference.”
“Not much.”
“Perhaps enough.”
His throat bobbed, and he gave her a curt nod.
“Apologize first.”
His eyebrows slashed together. “Come again?”
“Apologize for shooting at my husband and daughter.”
“I wanted to scare the bastard.”
“Well, you succeeded.”
She stared him down. Rather than give in, his features grew stony and stubborn.
“I’m sorry for bringing Evie into this, but I won’t apologize for what I did to Eddy-boy. Take it or leave it.”
If it wasn’t for Kris, she’d leave the damn thing. But Kris deserved one more opportunity to meet her father. If she didn’t, the loss would eat at her for years. Maybe forever.
Joan checked her sideview mirror. The cavalry had arrived. She didn’t know whether to roll her eyes or give her captor a you’re-screwed-now smirk.
Keeping an eye on her clan, she selected Kris’s name in her contacts. Kris picked up on the second ring.
“Hello, Miss Joan.”
“Hi, sweetheart.” Joan rose and held up a staying hand to McKay before going to stand by the RV’s door. “Have you gotten over your shock from this morning?”
“Shock?” Kris said. “I’d call that a bomb blast.”
Eddy, her dear Eddy, ripped open the RV door. And all her babies were lined up behind him, ready to bust in and save their mama. Tears pricked her eyes.
“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” Joan said into the phone.
She held up a no-sir finger in her husband’s face.
His brows stitched together in confusion.
She waggled her finger for emphasis.
Eddy stepped back, but didn’t shut the door.
“Kris, I have someone here who would like to say hello.”
“No—”
“Just to say hello. No more, unless you wish it.”
A growl rumbled from Eddy’s throat, and he started to climb the stairs again.
Joan stepped down, meeting him halfway. She didn’t take her eyes off her husband when she said, “Your dad’s been waiting many years for this moment, Kris. For what it’s worth, he never stopped loving you.”
A potent, thick silence hovered on the other side of the phone.
Joan kissed Eddy’s forehead and backed up a step. Kris’s silence continued, and Joan’s attention settled on McKay.
The brief, hopeful light on his prison-hardened face dimmed, then winked out.
“Okay,” Kris whispered.
Throat clenching at the tentative note in the girl’s reply, Joan held out her phone to McKay. In a low voice, she said, “You hurt her and you’ll answer to me.”
McKay took the phone as if he had no idea what to do with it. When he lifted his gaze, liquid silver sparkled along his lower lids. “Thank you.”
9
Eddy pushed through Tupelo Hill’s front door with two glasses of wine. His hands still weren’t steady after Joanie’s wild ride with McKay. That woman was his pride and joy, but he would never get used to her putting herself in danger for their family.
Joan’s short silver cap of hair was still mussed up, but she was so damn beautiful sitting there gazing across the yard that it made his eyes sting. “Maggie called while you were inside,” she said. “The clerk at Motel Malibu was roughed up a little, but he’ll be okay. And Henry’s securely behind bars, but Maggie did say she would let the prison know you’d be calling to put in a good word for him.”
“What about his initial release?” He gave Joan the pricey Cabernet that Grif had left in the kitchen and pulled an Adirondack chair close to hers. With a sigh, he slumped into it. “Did she find out how that happened?”
“Something about the original prosecutor on the case withholding evidence. Apparently, she’s now higher up in the food chai
n and if the details had come out, it would’ve caused a real stink. They gave McKay an early release to keep him quiet.”
“That’s probably coming back to bite them on the ass now.”
“Quite a day, wasn’t it?”
“If I could erase the past two days, I would.”
“Not me.” Joan took a nonchalant sip from her glass as if she hadn’t been kidnapped by a convict and fearlessly navigated Evie’s Med Mobile through the mountain roads at gunpoint.
“You must be in shock. I’m taking you to see Evie right now. Let’s go.” He reached for her wine to take it back, but she evaded him.
“I’m perfectly in my right mind. If all this hadn’t happened with Henry McKay, Kris might still not know about her father.”
“And she’d be happier for it.”
“You were right about keeping secrets. It hurts in the long run. Kris deserved to know the truth. Just like our own kids did. They aren’t children anymore. What you did, you did to protect them all. To protect me. But it’s past time to move on.”
He took her glass and set his beside it on the porch so he could hold both of her hands in his. “Joanie, how many times during our marriage have you wanted to move on?”
“To another man, you mean?”
He nodded, a single sharp movement because he was incapable of answering her question aloud.
She tilted her head and gazed up at the porch ceiling, considering. For every second she thought, Eddy died a thousand deaths. Finally, she looked back at him, her eyes full of the truth. “Oh, somewhere around none.”
The relief and gratitude that swept through him was so strong it almost toppled him from his chair. To keep his balance—physically and emotionally—he bent over their joined hands and touched his forehead to his wife’s knuckles. “Joan Steele, I do not deserve you. For all the years you had to steer this family ship without me. For the danger I brought to your door. For the pain I’ve caused you.”
She pulled her hands from under his and framed his face, urging him to look up. “You are exactly what I’ve always deserved. A man who loved his country enough to serve it. A man who did the right thing even when it tore him up inside. A man who is learning to be a part of this family again.”
“Do you think the kids will ever forgive me?”
“It will take a while for them to all come to grips with the fact that what they assumed to be true about you wasn’t the whole picture. But once they do, they’ll realize we need you to fill in the family’s gaps. You’re the only one who can do that.”
He took in the porch on the big white farmhouse, a house he hadn’t been the one to give her. Between his DEA retirement and what he and Joan had both made otherwise, there had never been much extra. What little was left over, he’d passed on to Jennifer McKay for her and the girls. “Tupelo Hill. It’s amazing, just like you. And I thank God every day that Jonah was able to give it to you. But I’m not sure I belong here. I know my cabin’s not much, but it’s . . . ”
“It’s been your home for a long time. I would never ask you to give it up.”
“But I want more than this sneaking around.”
Joan laughed. “I think that jig is up anyway. Something about being caught with your pants down at the Motel Malibu.”
This woman. He tugged her off her chair and into his lap. Having his arms around her reassured him that they’d finally overcome the threat to their family. He pressed a kiss behind her ear, and her sweet lavender scent both soothed and seduced him. “I want to wake up in the same bed with you, which means we have to choose. Your place or mine?”
“It doesn’t have to be your place or mine. I was just thinking that I could do with a quiet haven away from our unruly brood sometimes. Why can’t we wake up in the same bed at Tupelo Hill and the cabin? Why can’t we be an and couple?”
That was a pretty damn good question. They could be an and couple. One whose fairy tale ended the way it should.
And they lived happily ever after . . .
Now that you’ve had your fun with the Steeles, get ready for their cousins . . .
Craving HEAT
by Adrienne Giordano
Enjoy an excerpt from Adrienne Giordano’s Craving HEAT, Book One in the Steele Ridge: The Kingstons series:
* * *
“You cannot be serious.”
Jayson slid a sideways glance at his agent and his rare use of a condescending tone. During negotiations, Grif generally voiced his opinions in a direct, unquestioning manner. Something Jay admired in the man. Never a runaround. Only truth. Reality as seen by Grif Steele.
This reality sucked.
Big-time.
Sitting across from Jay at the oversized conference table, Drew Chandler wouldn’t—or couldn’t—meet his eye. The hand-painted Knights logo on the wall behind Jay monopolized his attention.
The guy always was a spineless weasel and this episode proved it. When wrecking a man’s life, the least he could do was look that man in the eye.
“I assure you,” Drew said, “we’re very serious.”
Not I. We. As in an entire organization. One that Jayson had spent the whole of his professional football career representing.
All those years and this is what he got?
Beside Drew, Eli Paskins, the team’s major shareholder, held up both hands.
The Knights held the distinction of being the United States Football Federation’s only publicly owned team and being the major shareholder, Eli participated in potentially high-impact decisions.
Like releasing a franchise player.
One Paskins himself had recruited. His word was rule, but he also took the unenviable heat from shareholders when profits were down.
Over the years, Jay had assisted Eli in any number of team-related activities. Everything from player issues to press briefings to charity events, Jayson Tucker, superstar quarterback, had been right there, stumping for his team, letting everyone know the Knights were the team to watch.
“Gentlemen, please,” Eli said.
Grif huffed out a breath, his frustration with the proceedings evident.
“Grif,” Drew said, “you’ve put the screws to me for years. Don’t play like you’re horrified.”
“I may have put the screws to you, but I’m not playing. I am horrified.”
At certain times, Jay didn’t mind his agent speaking for him. Right now? No way. He’d spent years leading this team, on and off the field, getting his head beat in and maintaining a cool under fire image under a brutal spotlight, and the front office wanted him gone. Fast.
A knife slice ripped at him. His career.
Over.
Everything. Gone, gone, gone.
Before he’d experienced a championship.
And that pissed Jay off.
Grif leaned in, ready to launch into an argument, but Jay gave him a backhanded flick on the arm. “Don’t bother.” He faced Drew and Paskins again, his direct glare leveled on Drew. He’d deal with Paskins, his friend, in a minute. “You’re releasing me after everything I’ve done for this team—all the dog and pony shows, keeping your locker room in check, which hell, that’s no picnic, and oh, right, grooming that pain in the ass rookie quarterback for my job. And you’re not asking for my side of this thing. What the fuck does that say?”
“Tuck,” Paskins said, “take it easy.”
Tuck, my ass.
From the second Jay had walked in here, it had been all formal use of his name. Now, with him getting, as Paskins liked to say, a little hot, his boss wanted to knock the edge off things by using Jay’s nickname.
Jay wasn’t having it. Not for a second. Not for the tiniest fucking tenth of a second.
“You’re destroying my career and reputation. We’re not talking just football. There are endorsements, too. This is my goddamned livelihood. Why the hell would I take it easy?”
Paskins’s dark eyebrows hitched up and his mouth hung open, expressing the fake revulsion he wanted Jay to buy.
Finally, he forced a choppy breath. “I’m destroying your career. I gave you your first big-league contract. And when that contract was up, I made you the highest-paid quarterback in the league. When have I not supported you?”
Uh, how about now? “Check your calendar. It’s Tuesday. The press has been dogging me since Sunday night and management has shown zero support. Aside from long-standing teammates, there’s been radio silence from an organization I’ve spent fifteen years pimping myself out for. Am I the highest-paid quarterback? You bet. I earn every cent.”
“He’s right,” Grif said, “you know this is crap. If you release him, I’ll find a way to sue you. Count on it.”
Drew ignored Grif’s threat, and for the first time, looked at Jayson. Dead on. “You attacked a player. In a locker room full of reporters. He’s a first-round draft pick. How do I defend that?”
Fighting to keep his temper in check—and avoid saying something stupid—Jay drove his heel into the carpet. After two days of his superiors failing him, he was smart enough to not take a chance on them leaking the events of this meeting to the press. Lifting one hip, he reached into his pocket for his phone and retrieved the video he’d watched at least a hundred times. “You tell the truth,” he said. “Say you benched Eric Webb, your golden boy rookie quarterback, and he retaliated by nearly having my head knocked off.” He tossed the phone on the table. “Take a look. Real close. That’s Rajae Evans and his illegal hit that could have paralyzed me, and all the guy gets is a one-game suspension. And Golden Boy, a guy I’ve put more man-hours into than I can count, set me up.”
* * *
Find out what happens next and order Craving HEAT
Discover More Steele Ridge
STEELE RIDGE: THE STEELES
The BEGINNING, A Novella, Book 1
Going HARD, Book 2
Living FAST, Book 3
Enduring Love Page 5
