Living Fast: Steele Ridge Series

by Adrienne Giordano

  “But the gang thought he was a partner?”

  Maggie nodded. “Looks like it. We went through Nelson's laptop. There was a note on there to Brynne. A kid from Asheville had smoked his weed and had a stroke.”

  “I saw that on the news. That was Nelson's weed?”

  “Yeah. And he freaked. I honestly think he thought the stuff was harmless. It's weed, right? What's the big deal? Except the kid dies, Nelson panics and tells old Marty that's he's done. He didn't sign on for this. But Nelson had his recipes and all his drug manufacturer contacts and refused to share.”

  “And Marty got pissed.”

  Mags jerked her head. “And Marty got pissed. He assumed Ed Wayne and Nelson were partners and told the drug ring members to get them to give up the recipe. That's where Dexter Sweet and Reggie come in. Dexter has been selling drugs for the gang, but wasn't a member yet. They were basically giving him a trial run with getting the recipe from Nelson. When that didn't work, Marty got pissed and someone went to Ed Wayne. Could have been Marty himself. We don't know yet.”

  Reid looked out the windshield at Brynne's shop, imagined all that could have gone wrong for her. “My guess is Wayne told them he wasn't involved and they figured he was being cagey and popped him.”

  “In her statement, Brynne said something about Marty ranting about Dexter and Reggie fucking the whole thing up. They were only supposed to scare Nelson. They then tried to get the recipe from Ed and when he couldn't give them anything, they were afraid he'd squeal so they killed him. We picked up Reggie the other night, but he's not talking. As soon as all these idiots start turning on each other, we'll know who did what. Either way, Nelson was scared. He knew Marty was looking for him. And with that teenager dying, since Nelson made the drugs, he figured a murder charge was in order and he wasn't sticking around for that.”

  “He was gonna run?”

  “According to the note on his laptop. He had enough cash to last him awhile and apologized for his”—she made air quotes—”sins.”

  “And then Marty's boys caught up with him at Brynne's shop and figured he'd hid the phone there.”

  “Yep.”

  Reid let out a grunt. That shit was probably being sold in Steele Ridge. “You gotta shut that ring down, Mags.”

  “I know. The DEA is on it. I'm going to scare the pants off of everyone in this town. If I find that crap around here, people are going to jail. I don't care how old they are.”

  “Good.” He glanced back at Brynne's shop. “You just told her all this?”

  “About an hour ago. I think she's okay. Sad. Bewildered, I guess, but after the last few days, I'm not sure much else could shock her.”

  “I need to talk to her. Get her to forgive me for being an asshole.”

  Mags patted his arm. “Start by apologizing. Tell her you have this issue with being bossy and point out that sometimes, the fact that you're an alpha is a good thing.”

  “Huh?”

  “I'm a female. I'm also an alpha female. Here's the thing I've come to understand about alpha males. As women, a lot of us like a strong man who is willing to take charge of a situation, one who wants to be the first to kick in the door. The problem is, a lot of those types of guys aren't really romantics. I don't see you reading her poetry, right?”

  Ew. “Hell, no.”

  “Exactly. You wouldn't be any good at it. Some men are. You? You're a caveman.”

  Jeez with the insults. “Again, don't hold back.”

  She waved him off. “What I'm saying is it's unreasonable for women to expect a guy like you to be the whole package. To be the tough alpha and the romantic with a squishy underbelly. You're not built that way. If it could happen, well, that's a world-class jackpot, but being an alpha woman, I understand that and I choose the men I date carefully. In my case, I'm okay with a well-intentioned dope who occasionally puts his foot in his mouth because I know, I know, when it comes down to it, he'll be the first to kick in the door to protect me. And something tells me that as much as Brynne wants her independence, she wants a guy—like you—who'll stand beside her, who'll help her through the rough stuff, but who is willing to admit when he screwed up.”

  Like every other time Maggie had talked him through a life lesson, Reid took it all in. Processed it. She was right. He'd never be the poetry guy. Sure, he liked looking up at the stars, but that might be as romantic as he got.

  What he needed to do was play up the positive parts. The protective parts, the parts of him that would fight any battle on Brynne's behalf, or that would dismantle any enemy who came for her. That, he could do.

  “Okay,” he said.

  “Okay?”

  “Yep. I know what I have to do. Thank you. You always know what to say. Kinda like Brynne. She gets me. When you two talk, it makes sense.”

  The lights in La Belle Style flicked on, but the closed sign was still on the door.

  Mags pointed. “Looks like she's in there. I'd figure out a way to weasel in.” She opened the truck door. “And for the love of God, be nice. Try not to talk too much.”

  His cousin laughed and Reid had to smile. Making people laugh might be the best cure for a pissy mood.

  “I'm going,” she said. “And I'm proud of you.”

  “For what?”

  “For not asking about the investigation. Last week you'd have been bugging me about it.”

  “Well,” he said, “I'm preoccupied with figuring out my life.”

  She slid out of the truck. “Go get her, champ.”

  By his way of thinking, Reid had one shot at this. With that in mind, he hopped from the truck into the morning sunshine, stretched his legs, noted the lack of twinge in his knee and figured it was a good sign.

  Yep, he'd go with that and march into the shop to throw himself on Brynne's mercy.

  He walked toward the door, ready to launch into his spiel about intending to help, but being a screw-up and an egomaniac who sometimes has trouble sticking his opinions on hold and allowing people to explain.

  With that self-examination, why would anyone want him?

  He thought about what Mags said, let it bolster him.

  I've got this.

  He grabbed the door handle and pulled.

  Locked.

  Shit.

  Brynne stood behind the counter and must have heard the jiggle of the door because she looked up, stared at him through the glass for a solid twenty seconds.

  At least she hadn't screamed at him to go away.

  When she didn't move from her spot it became obvious, he'd have to yell through the door.

  Excellent. Nothing like making an ass of himself on the damned sidewalk.

  But, hell, he'd always thought part of his charm was his ability to look like an idiot, yet get shit done.

  He waved one hand in greeting. “I know you're pissed at me. Can we talk?”

  “Ah, Christ,” Mr. Greene said as he made his way toward the Triple B for his daily breakfast. “Hang on, Reid. Let me get my coffee so I can watch this.”

  Reid gave him a look. “All due respect, Mr. Greene, zip it. A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do. And if begging helps, I'm up for it.”

  On his way by, Mr. Greene patted him on the arm. “You're a good kid.”

  The snick of a lock sounded and Reid snapped his gaze back to the door where Brynne stood on the other side. And, God help him, she wore jeans, a pair of flat leopard-print shoes, and a ribbed top that hugged her curves. The added bonus of her seriously toned-down makeup kicked his desperation to another level. And she had her hair in a long braid that hung over one shoulder. Damn, she looked amazing.

  She stepped back and opened the door for him.

  “Since I know you well enough to know you won't go away, you might as well come in.”

  “Thank you. I think.” Good gravy on a Tuesday, she might have just insulted him. “I'll say what I have to and then if you throw me out, I'll go. I promise. Is that a deal?”

  She eyed him, twisti
ng her lips one way, then the other. “Fine. But I swear, if you say one moronic thing, I'll club you.”

  One moronic thing. Only one?

  That might be asking a lot.

  * * *

  Reid wanted to talk.

  Well, she wanted one normal day. To open her shop, have some quiet, but with enough customers to keep her mind occupied on making a living and…well…surviving.

  On her own.

  But damn him for playing the superhero and making her want him. For two days she'd been picturing him storming that basement, rushing down there and bringing that guy down in seconds.

  Extraordinary. Yep, that was Reid.

  Except when he opened his mouth.

  As much as she loved that badass-nothing-is-impossible attitude of his, she couldn't be with a man who wouldn't treat her as an equal. Who wouldn't listen when she spoke or thought he could decide how she should live her life.

  She locked the door behind him, walked to the loveseat and sat. “I think we should talk. Have a seat.”

  “Good,” he said, “that's good.” He slid into the loveseat, turned to face her and when he reached a hand out, maybe to touch her face or her hair, she backed away.

  Allowing him to touch her wouldn't make this easier. He paused and his mouth dipped into a pouty frown. He dropped his hand.

  “I'm sorry,” he said. “For all of it. For searching your stockroom, for doubting whether you were being straight with me—”

  “You thought I lied. Big difference.”

  “There you're wrong. I did not think you lied. I wasn't sure you'd told me everything.”

  Semantics. All of it. “Stop with the word games. You didn't trust me.”

  “I trusted you until I found Nelson's potpourri in Dexter's house. That threw me. Especially after you'd given me some to take to my mother. And, hello, you'd just spent the night in bed with me, so yeah, I got stupid there. Then I couldn't get a hold of you and all my questions ate away at me. By the time I got back to town, my mind was blown. I didn't know what I was doing.”

  “You didn't let me explain.”

  “No, I didn't. I'm sorry.”

  She believed him. As mad as she wanted to stay at him, Reid didn't say things he didn't mean. “I accept your apology.”

  “Why do I think there's a but?”

  Strength here was key. If he sensed any weakness, he'd exploit it and she couldn't fall back into the old Brynne. Ignoring her shattered heart, she looked him straight in the eye. “We're not good for each other.”

  For a second, he narrowed his eyes. “I don't believe that. Not after everything that's happened between us.”

  Don't give in. She pushed her shoulders back, tilted her chin up. Strong Brynne. In control Brynne. “In a lot of ways, we're great together. But when you get dug in, that's it. You're stubborn and you see things in a linear way. You get so locked on it's like tunnel vision and the only way is yours. For me, on an emotional level, that's not good.”

  “I get that. I do. I'm working on it.”

  “I've tried to become an independent woman who won't always give in to what others need. All my life I've been a pleaser, putting myself behind everyone else. I can't do that anymore. And you're strong-willed and charming enough—in your own sick way—to make me fall into old habits. I'm sorry, Reid, I can't do it. I am who I am. You helped me see that I don't need a ton of makeup and fancy clothes. That I can be myself. But my looks, my opinions, the way I live my life, which is here in Steele Ridge, it all has to be enough for you. You want things your way. And you'll always want more than this town. It's who you are. I can't spend my life worrying about the day the Green Beret in you will pop up, say it's not enough and you're moving to Georgia. I've already had one husband tell me I wasn't good enough. Now, Steele Ridge and I have to be enough.”

  “I won't leave. I'm done with that.”

  She set her hand on his and squeezed. “You want to believe that.”

  “No. I'm serious, I'm done. Georgia is off the table. I called the guy on my way over here.”

  Wait. What? No, no, no. She couldn't let that sway her. Couldn't let that bit of hope change her mind. “You did?”

  Dammit. So much for staying strong.

  “I did.”

  “Because of your knee?”

  He thought about that for a second. “No. The knee is the excuse. I don't want the job. Yeah, I want to be able to travel some, but not constantly. I thought I wanted the action, but then my buddy got hurt yesterday and I realized it's not the action. It's the adrenaline rush I crave. I can get that other ways. I also kinda like being around my family. And I definitely like being around you.”

  He reached into his back pocket, pulled out a folded document, and handed it to her.

  “What's this?”

  “A contract.”

  “For?”

  “It needs some tweaks, but I'm staying in Steele Ridge and I'm running the training center. Jonah promised me he'd hire an admin guy to handle the day-to-day stuff. I get to design all the training classes and teach. I'm the hands-on one.”

  She glanced down at the document and that flicker of hope sparked in her chest. He was not serious.

  “Reid Steele, don't you tease me.”

  He nudged the paper at her. “I'm not. Look at it.”

  She unfolded the document, scanned it.

  “You crossed out the end date.”

  He flashed a smile. “Caught that, did you?”

  That flicker morphed into an inferno and she knew, dammit, as sure as she was sitting in front of him, she'd give in. “You're serious about this? You, the world traveler. You're going to stay in Steele Ridge and settle down? Why?”

  “Because, well, my family makes me nuts, but the other day? Playing paintball with my brothers, that was amazing. But then watching you and Evie held hostage—” He closed his eyes a second, cleared his throat before opening them again. “And my buddy getting hurt last night? I guess it hit me that I'm lucky. As much as washing out sucked, I was able to walk away. I've lost friends. Good friends. I've watched them get blown away in firefights and have limbs torn away by IEDs. I've watched that.”

  “I know. I'm so sorry.”

  “Seeing my family in danger puts things into perspective. I know how precious life is, but before coming back here, I'd never considered losing my family. It scares me. Makes me realize how much I've missed all these years. Now, I want some peace, well, as much peace as I can get with the Steeles, but that's what I want. To spend time with my loved ones. To spend time with you. And to remind myself how lucky I am.”

  And, oh, no. There was that boyish charm that terrified her. Not two minutes ago she'd told him she was afraid of that charm and here she was with a full-blown burn in her chest and her body begging to lean in, to fold herself into the crook of his arm.

  “Damn you, Reid Steele.”

  He perked up. “Is that a good damn you or a bad one?”

  She laughed. “Both!”

  “That's good. I can work with that. Just give me a chance, Brynnie. I don't want to steal your independence or who you are. To me, who you are is what makes you so amazing. What I want is time. With you. I don't know where we go from here, but I promise you, if you give me a chance, I'll do better.”

  This time, when he reached out to touch her, she let him. He dragged one finger down her cheek and clucked his tongue. “Progress.”

  “You're an idiot.”

  “I know. I think part of you likes that about me.”

  He was right about that.

  But then he stood, stretched his long legs. “You need to open soon, so I'm gonna go. Let you get your work done. Just think about it. If you decide we can give this another go, I'd like to take you to dinner one night. Any night. Just like the first time I hit on you at the B.”

  Damn him. So well played. Here they were, back at the beginning. A clean start.

  He bent over, kissed the top of her head. “I miss you, Brynnie.�
�

  She didn't move. Sat there, half-stunned by a humbled Reid Steele. And yet he still had the inherent strength and sense of purpose that had wrapped around her.

  She inhaled the musky scent of his soap and her mind flashed back to him loving her under a sky full of brilliant stars.

  She let out a breath, let her shoulders drop.

  Then he was gone, moving away, heading for the door and—stop, stop, stop.

  “Reid?”

  He pulled the door open, but looked back over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

  “I'll close the shop early today. Pick me up at seven.”

  Loving DEEP

  by Tracey Devlyn

  Enjoy an excerpt from Tracey Devlyn’s Loving DEEP, Book Four in the Steele Ridge series:

  * * *

  Helpless anger blurred Britt’s vision. He pushed it back and concentrated on diluting their conversation down to a cold-blooded business transaction. No emotion, nothing to lose. “If I add my savings, cabin, property, business, and truck to the money the bank is willing to lend me, I’ll be close—”

  “Your cabin and truck? Your business?” she asked, horrified. “Why would you give up everything of value to save Mom’s property? I don’t understand.”

  “Because I made her a promise.” And because I am the wolves’ last hope.

  “No promise is worth the kind of sacrifice you’re suggesting.”

  “Normally, I would agree with you. But, in this case, it is.”

  “I can’t do ‘close,’ Britt.”

  He bolted from his chair, startling her. At the moment, he didn’t care. She was one comment away from leaving, and he couldn’t think of a way to stop her. His mind sparked in a thousand different directions. Staring out the picture window, he saw nothing of the towering cluster of trees or the dilapidated shed. He saw only his reflection, his failure.

  If he’d been Grif, he could have charmed her over to his side. Jonah could have waved a wad of cash to win her over. Reid could have…God only knew how, but the devil would have managed the situation. Britt had—nothing. Not a single special quality he could employ.