by Fields, MJ
Branded Steel
Steel Crew
MJ Fields
Contents
About Branded
Playlist
Labor Day Weekend
F’ Me Friday
Friday Night
Gasoline
Nun Nonsense
This Can’t Be My Life
Midnight Madness
A Whole New World
Mantoloking
Not So Thankful
Black and Blue Friday
Blue Balls
The Lake
The Landing
Dream Land
All Night Long
Home and Away
The Talk
Life Changes
Heart Problems
Gifts
Inked
Award Night
Not Ready For Goodbye
Seashore Academy Bound
Germany
TMI
The Heart Of The Matter
Trust
Here and Now
Epilogue
About the Music
Next In Steel Crew
Laced
Thank you
Also by MJ Fields
About the Author
Copyright © 2020 by MJ Fields
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the authors’ imaginations. Any resemblance to actual persons, things, living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
Editor: C&D Editing
Proofreading by: Julie Deaton
Photo Credit: Wander Aguiar
Cover Model: Lucas Loyola
Thank you for downloading/purchasing this eBook. This eBook and its contents are the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied, or distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download/purchase their own copy from authorized retailers, where they can also discover other works by this author.
Thank you for your support.
About Branded
He can sing, dance, and owns whatever stage he’s “performing” on.
His looks make him a triple threat.
And he’s gone viral.
He is the Country Music Artist of the Year.
Which means that face, those eyes, that hair, that body, and his voice are every-freaking-where.
He’s America’s newest country sensation, and he can do no wrong.
Except, he did.
He totally did.
And he did it to me.
Playlist
Listen on Spotify
Don’t Stop Believing - Journey
Why Can’t I - Liz Phair
Can’t Stop, Won’t Stop - Small Town Shade
Just Enough - Small Town Shade
Gasoline - Small Town Shade
Ring It Up - Small Town Shade
Oceans Away - Small Town Shade
H.O.L.Y - Florida Georgia Line
Savage - Megan Thee Stallion
Life Is Good - Future, Drake
Labor Day Weekend
Thirsty Thursday
Katherine
Standing at the end of the long, wooden picnic table, waiting at the end of the line that is ten people deep, plate in hand, behind my cousin Truth, the song changes over the sound system and I groan, complaining, “If I hear this song one more time, I swear I’m going to stab myself in the ear.”
She looks back at me, peering over her shades, and smirks. “Better than in the vagi—”
“Don’t finish that fucking statement,” Justice cuts her off.
“Yeah, don’t,” I agree.
Brand Falcon’s first single, “Short Skirts, Tight Shirts,” produced by Uncle Xavier’s production company, Forever Four, became last summer’s party anthem. It crossed genres and topped not only country music charts but pop music charts, as well. He went viral, is covered by teenage fan girls on TikTok, is on every freaking radio talk show, every website, and every magazine. In short, he is everywhere.
The first time I remember seeing Brandon Falcon was at Falcon’s Landing, his family’s property in Lake Hopatcong, New Jersey. I’m sure it wasn’t the first time, just the first I can remember, and although I was, like, three years old, it’s one of those memories that engrains itself in you and needles its reminder every time you see that person. And if that weren’t enough, he’s on every middle and high school girls’ wallpaper on their phone.
My first crush, my first heartbreak … hell, probably my first disappointment—Brand Falcon.
At his uncle Grayson’s wedding, he serenaded my sister, Bella. Being a badass since birth, I didn’t let that sway me. I decided to show my adoration by singing to him. Then, well, then … he kissed her. And yes, there are pictures and videos that summon that moment in my memory, too.
Truth silently chuckles. “The man, the myth, the legend—”
I roll my eyes. “Even if it’s only in his own mind.”
I hear a low snicker from behind me, and my eyes spring from the barbequed chicken I just put on my plate to Truth.
She grimaces slightly then smirks.
He’s right behind me.
Right.
Behind.
Me.
I pull my shit together right quick and glance over my shoulder.
He smirks at me before saying, “And in your imagination.”
The nerve!
I turn fully around and look up at him. “The only image that pops into my head when it comes to you is how quickly your rise will last until your ego gets the best of you and you fall.”
“I call bull, baby Steel.” He leans in closer to me, eyes narrowing, his scent surrounded by the smell of the ocean air, forming a heady mixture, one I wish I detested. Then he whispers, “I’m good for at least forty minutes.”
I hear Truth snort and throw an elbow back, hoping it connects.
It does … against Justice.
I look back at him, and he rolls his eyes before pulling his shades down, covering them.
“Didn’t mean to get you. Meant to get Truth.”
“I’m aware,” Justice mumbles.
There’s eight of us, all of us exceedingly close, but there is a hierarchy within our little crew. Siblings always come first, and Justice is next level protective over his twin sister. He has been since as far back as I can remember. Doesn’t matter if she’s wrong or right.
Does that rub me the wrong way? Not normally, but he just did it in front of Brandon Falcon.
I glare back at Brand, who cocks his head and whispers so only I can hear him, “Doesn’t seem to have your back. What’s up with that, baby Steel?”
“We always have each other’s backs.”
Licking his lips, he looks me up and down, and then his eyes settle on mine. “But who’s got your front?”
My eyes lock with his, and something stirs in my stomach.
A smirk curves in the corner of his mouth.
“You think now that Bella’s taken, you can start playing your little games with me?”
He narrows his eyes and cocks his head to the side. “You think I’m trippin’ on Bella?”
“You’ve been trippin’ on her since you were—”
“See, you got it all wrong, baby Steel.” He walks past me, filling in
the gap between the rest of the crew and me.
I wait for him to elaborate, but he doesn’t. I want to ask what it is I got all wrong, but I hold it in, not wanting to appear desperate and needy. I don’t want to play the mouse in his game—him being the cat. Instead, I give him some ’tude.
“Did you just budge ahead of me?”
He shrugs, smirk still playing on his delectable devil lips, and says, “Everything looks fucking delicious. Just couldn’t wait.” He looks up at me, hazel eyes through thick black lashes. “Been starving for some good eats, baby Steel.”
“Oh, please,” I huff. “I’m sure you’re being hand-fed by a gaggle of groupies.”
“Gaggle of groupies, huh?”
I nod once.
He swings his gaze from the steak to me. “Still nothing like grade-A, home-grown beef.” He drops a small steak onto my plate.
“Who said I wanted steak?”
“It’s Falcon Farms beef. My meat. I know you want it.”
I smart back, “Your head gets any bigger, your hat’s gonna explode.”
His sparkling white teeth catch his lower lip, and I swear I feel those pearly whites nibbling on my lower abdomen.
“Hey, Kiki,” my brother Max yells to me, “come on; I’m tryin’ to save your seat.”
I watch as he shoves my cousin Amias.
I swing back and look at Brand, who’s biting into a strawberry, eyes searing into mine as he licks his lips.
“Always interesting seeing you.” My words are intentionally laced with sarcasm.
“I’m here all weekend, Kiki. You go have fun at the kiddy table.”
I arch my brow. “I’m no kid.”
He looks me up and down again, slowly. “I’m aware.”
* * *
“He drunk?” my cousin Patrick, aka Tricks, asks as he pushes himself up, resting on his elbows on the beach blanket.
“Didn’t seem to be. Why?”
“He even twenty-one?” Justice asks.
I know the answer. He’s twenty. And as close as I am to my cousins, I really don’t share the embarrassing and painfully pathetic amount of details I know about Brandon Falcon.
“Nah, man,” Tricks huffs. “But he’s got a fucking beer.”
I chuckle. “And you’ve got one, too.”
“Gotta hide that shit, though,” he grumbles. “My parents won’t even let me have a beer. Lucky to get wine with dinner on holidays.”
“At least your parents are cool,” Brea huffs.
Truth laughs. “You’re fifteen.”
“Law says twenty-one,” Justice says as he spins the volleyball on his finger.
“Says eighteen for ink.” Max bats the ball off his finger, catches it, and then runs toward the net that’s already set up.
“Who’s up for a game?” he yells to where Dad and my uncles are standing around, talking to Brand and his father, Garrett.
“Just ate, bud,” Dad calls over to him.
“You need a nap, old man,” Max ribs him.
Dad takes the bait. “Do I look like I need a damn nap, boy?”
“Oh, here we go.” Tris laughs as we all watch my father, Jase, and my uncles, Cyrus, Zandor, and Xavier toss off their shirts.
“You wanna mix it up, or do you old men want to—”
“Watch it, Max,” Dad warns, arching a brow as he heads toward the net.
It’s Max, Justice, Tricks, Amias, and Brand against Dad, Cyrus, Zandor, Xavier, and Garrett Falcon.
“Baby, you wanna turn up the tunes?” Dad calls to Mom.
“Did he just say turn up the tunes?” Brea giggles.
“He sure did,” I say as I pull my coverup off, pull my sunglasses down, and then lie down on the towel next to Truth.
Sunglasses are like a secret weapon. The darker, the better. That way, I can watch Brandon shed his shirt without getting caught.
“Wake me up when this is over.” I fake a yawn and roll onto my stomach, which happens to give me a much better view of the game … of Brand.
“Does he get better looking every time we see him or what?” Truth whispers.
“Like I care,” I lie.
* * *
Knowing he’s near, I can’t seem to get to sleep. Makes me feel pathetic, like some lovesick fangirl. I’ll admit to no one else but myself that I am the OG fan girl of one Brandon Falcon. I will further admit that he does his best to drop little breadcrumbs laced with bad intentions behind him for me to follow whenever he’s around. Breadcrumbs that I gobble up like a starved carb addict coming off two months of Keto.
I throw my legs over my bed and stand up on the hardwood floor. Then I quietly make my way across the floor, hoping not to wake Truth, Brisa, or Tris to use the bathroom.
After a nice, hot shower, which usually helps make me sleepy, I brush my teeth then decide to head to the kitchen in hopes of finding some lavender tea.
Dressed in a sleep tee and shorts, I tiptoe my way out the door, down the hall, passing the boys’ room and several others that are empty, waiting for the rest of the extended family and friends to arrive over the next couple days, and then down the staircase.
Once in the kitchen, I open cupboard after cupboard, looking for the tea. When I can’t find it, I eye a bottle of red wine and decide screw it.
Glass in hand, I make my way out to the patio overlooking the pool. After setting my glass of wine down on the small table beside the double chaise, I flop down and look up at the sky.
“Not a cloud up there tonight. Mother Nature’s putting on a show, isn’t she?”
Startled, I jump, clasping my hand over my chest, and he chuckles.
“What the hell are you doing out here?” I gasp.
He steps out of the dark corner, sets his guitar down, and takes a drink from the beer in his hand as he walks over and flops down beside me. “Same as you I suppose.” He rolls to his side, props his head on his hand, and looks down at me.
I’ve imagined this a million times—Brand Falcon lying next to me, looking at me the way he is now—but never once in those imagined times did I feel like I couldn’t breathe.
He slowly pokes me in the side, and a held breath rushes out of me. He smirks. Fucker.
“You certainly are grown now, Katherine Steel,” he says as he looks me over slowly. “Mother Nature puts on an altogether different show whenever you’re around.”
I manage to squeak out, “Brand—”
“Katy, not Kiki. Katy,” he interrupts me, still slowly looking me over. Then his eyes meet mine. “You’re beautiful.”
I close my eyes and chant in my head, Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.
When I feel his body move, and that heat that came with it leaves, I open my eyes and find his eyes still on mine as he licks his lips and stands.
I sit up. “Where are you—”
“Been drinking all day, Katy.” He smiles when he says my name, like he likes the sound and the way it plays in his mouth. “I’m not doing this with you when I’ve been drinking.”
“Then when?” As soon as the words come out, I wish like hell I could Hoover them back in.
He smiles, but this time it’s not conceited; it’s genuine … I think.
“Soon, Katy, real soon.” He runs his hand through his hair as he turns to walk inside.
“I may change my mind,” I say in a loud, needy whisper.
Again, why, why, why do I open my mouth when he’s around?
I quickly reach for my glass of wine, hoping to guzzle it and praying it will knock me out completely. I close my eyes and start to take a huge drink when the cup leaves my hand.
I open my eyes as he takes my hand and pulls me up while setting the cup on the table beside us.
“Been drinking all day, Katy.” He releases my hand.
“You’ve mentioned that twice now. So what?”
With one of his hands, he takes the side of my face and tilts my head back, forcing me to look up at him. “I’m gonna kiss you.”
�
��Are you asking permission or—”
He moves his hand to the back of my head, where he grips my hair and tugs it back. Then he licks his full lips before pressing them against mine.
Neither of us close our eyes.
He slides his lips across mine, applying barely any pressure. A groan vibrates from deep inside of him before he runs his tongue along the seam of my lips, and I open for him.
I feel his hand leave my hair and slide down the back of my neck. He then spreads his hand out and traces my jawline with his thumb. His other hand is now on the small of my back, pulling me closer.
My mouth is watering. My legs are trembling. My body’s core is on fire. I want him to kiss me more than I have ever wanted anything in my life, and he’s doing nothing but licking me slowly, tormenting me.
I see what he’s doing.
He’s playing a game.
God, how could I be so stupid?
I start to step back, but his grip tightens.
“I’m all set.” My voice quivers, making me sound completely opposite of how I intended.
Not strong, weak.
So damn weak.
His voice is deep and husky when he asks, “You sure about that?”
I put my hands on his hips and nod.
“Then don’t you dare kiss me back.”
He moves in slow. Too fucking slow.
I pull him closer and instead of waiting, I kiss him.
