Her dad. Aubrey was giving her the cold shoulder and calling Grif Dad. A man neither of them truly knew.
Carlie Beth wandered through the mostly empty facility. Although the damage to the reception area had been repaired and repainted, it still smelled faintly of smoke from the fire set back in January. Behind that was a huge open space dominated by a four-story rock climbing wall. A running track was elevated to the top level, giving the nonexistent joggers a prime view of below. The outer edge of the building was ringed with weight rooms and classroom-sized spaces. It was too bad the whole sports complex concept had fallen apart. The school district had already negotiated to allow students access when the project went down the tubes.
What would Jonah Steele do with this place?
Calling out for Grif every few minutes, Carlie Beth climbed the stairs to the track. She stepped out onto the springy surface and decided a slow lap around might do her some good. Slow? She probably needed to run in circles until she passed out. But she was already so tired as it was.
Right, left, right. The soles of her shoes bounced along the track, making a soft sproing with each step. She calmed her breathing, matching it in time with her footfalls. In, out, in.
Good, Carlie Beth, because you can’t afford to go apeshit on a man who might be capable of—
Suddenly, a clattering echoed above her and to the right. Something that sounded like metal pinging off plastic.
“Grif?” she said, her voice too high and breathy for her liking. “Jonah? Is anyone here?”
No answer.
Then a heavy door clanged. A stairwell door, just like the one she’d pushed through to enter the track level. Someone was in here with her. Someone unwilling to answer her.
An uneasy shiver made its way down Carlie Beth’s arms, leaving goose bumps in its wake. What if someone was trying to steal stuff? But really, what would he take? There were a few machines in the weight room, but they’d require a moving truck. They weren’t exactly the type of thing a person could carry out on his back.
What if Grif had heard her the first time she called out and was…stalking her?
By now, the small amount of calm she’d created on her walk around the track had completely disappeared. So she returned to the stairwell, easing open the door and peering around before stepping inside. She and Aubrey had taken a personal safety class last year. The woman who’d taught it, a member of the Asheville PD, had preached the concept of vigilance until every woman in the class was sick of it.
But still they’d listened.
No sounds came from the stairs, so Carlie Beth quickly made her way toward the first floor, jogging down the steps and skimming her hand along the railing. By the time she was back on the lobby level, her heart rate was tripping double-time. She pushed into the open space and sprinted for the front door. Air. She needed air.
With outstretched arms, she shoved at the main door only to hear it thud into something. Something that sounded a lot like a person. Her breath hitching, Carlie Beth stumbled back, almost losing her balance. But she was able to keep her feet under her and scramble sideways until her shoulder banged into a wall.
The door swung inward, and a big form stepped into the open space. The person was backlit by moonlight, which kept his face in shadow, and for an instant Carlie Beth went as still as a rabbit that had spotted a wolf.
Then she became the wolf.
Since she was shorter than the shadow, she went in low with her elbow, aiming for the crotch. Her trajectory was off slightly and she hit his hipbone instead.
“Dammit,” the shadow bellowed as it grabbed for her arm, “don’t be stupid and make this worse by making me beat you up. I don’t give a damn who you are. I promise, you’ll wish I’d just called the police first.”
Beat her up? No way in hell. She jerked out of his hold, cocked her elbow and rammed it home.
“Oof!” Just like he was supposed to, the guy stumbled back and folded in on himself, gasping for breath. “You…little…motherf—”
“Oh, God!” She hadn’t recognized Grif’s voice at first. Violent relief pulsed through her, followed quickly by renewed fear. She scrambled away, her spine bumping the wall and stopping her escape.
“Carlie Beth?” Grif’s focus lasered on her, momentarily pinning her in place. “Wha…What’re you doing here? And wh…Why the hell did you elbow my balls into my throat?”
He made a move to straighten, and she held out her hands and stepped back into attack position. “Stop! Don’t move.”
“Jesus, it’s me. Grif.”
“I know.”
Bracing his hands on his knees above the basketball shorts he wore, he glared up at her, his breath still hard and uneven. “What the hell? I didn’t mean to scare you. Did I knock you down when I pushed back on the door? I’m sorry I yelled, but I thought you were the kids who’ve been painting crap on the walls in here.”
“Where have you been?”
“What do you mean?” He was able to straighten enough for her to see his T-shirt was printed with a faded Anaheim Ducks logo.
“Were you in this building with me?”
His faced creased with confusion. “You saw me come through that door not two minutes ago.”
“Maybe you left to make it look like…”
“Like what?” He reached out, and she skipped out of reach. “Have you lost your mind? I know I was pissed when I came to your house the other day, but you’re acting crazy.” His tone broadcasted bewilderment, which for some unknown reason made Carlie Beth want to wrap her arms around her knees and bury her head while she cried. So, so stupid.
“I heard a noise.”
“What kind of noise?”
Part of her wanted to tell him it was nothing, but she had to confront this. Confront him. And she was certain someone had been in the building with her. “A clang and then footsteps. Someone going down the stairs.”
“Are you sure?”
“I know what I heard. I called out, but you didn’t answer.”
“Dammit, it wasn’t me. Why would I ignore you?”
She could feel the lack of blood in her own face. “Because…because…”
He touched her chin, lightly, and she tried to move out of range, but he blocked her with his other arm, without removing his fingers from her face. His expression darkened and his mouth flatlined. “Why are you suddenly scared of me?”
Carlie Beth fought the compulsion to grab his hand and press it against her cheek. Because that would be like a lamb climbing up on a lion’s dinner table. She remembered how it felt all those years ago to be the singular focus of his blue eyes, his sexy smile. Grif could make a woman believe she was the only female in his universe. The only thing he cared about.
Maybe he cared too much. So much he was willing to hurt a woman.
Then again, when they were talking with Maggie about Roy Darden, Grif had also said a man who hits a woman should be taught a lesson. “I…need to get home.”
“Wait a minute. I want to make sure I understand what’s going on. You came out here looking for me, but there was someone else in the building? Did you see who it was?”
“No. Maybe it was one of your brothers. Or maybe I imagined it. Anyway, I can see you were about to do something, so I’ll just…”
“I was about to use the climbing wall”—his breath fanned across her cheek, skimming her lips and sending a shiver down her back—“but that’s not important right now.”
She shoved at his chest, suddenly realizing she’d let him get too close. Way too close. She had no physical leverage from this angle. So she attacked in another way. “Tell me about Madison Henry.”
Grif stepped back, taking his hand with him. “I’m surprised you didn’t ask before now.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Do you live under a rock?”
“This may shock you,” she snapped, “but most of the world doesn’t revolve around you.”
“It’s not ego saying that, believe me. But as a gu
y who hasn’t been able to get out from under the shadow of scandal for months, it’s unusual for me to come across someone who hasn’t seen my face, and her face, splashed all over the media.”
“I—”
“And what kind of mother would you be if you didn’t ask?” His words were full of bite, but she could hear the pain beneath them. “I mean, you have to wonder if it’s safe for me to get to know my own daughter.”
A sliver of shame threaded through her. He’d obviously been ripped apart by the press and even after all the damning stuff she read, she had a hard time imagining this man as an abuser. “Look, I’m not even sure why I came out here tonight. We can talk about all this lat—”
“You came because you’re scared. But not for the reason you’ve convinced yourself of. If you were really afraid I would ever hurt Aubrey, you would’ve been hightailing it the other way instead of coming out here to confront me. You’ve had exclusive claim on our daughter for her entire life. I’m a threat to that. Tell me, Carlie Beth, is that why you kept her from me?”
“I didn’t keep her from you,” she insisted. “You make it sound like I hid her away in a cave somewhere and fought you off with sharp sticks.”
“Look, I know I acted like a dick when I came to see you, and I’m sorry for that, but you can’t expect me not to be pissed. You purposefully kept me in the dark.”
“I shouldn’t have to remind you that you were eighteen, just a boy. You wouldn’t have known what to do with a baby.”
“And you, in all your nineteen-year-old wisdom, had it all figured out?” He advanced on her, and she sidestepped, her back still against the wall. But he simply followed, not allowing her an escape route.
“I was twenty by the time she was born.” Like those few months had made her any more ready for a tiny baby.
“I bet you were all round and rosy.” Grif’s focus shifted from her face downward, and his hands came up to span her waist. Carlie Beth’s nipples reacted as if he’d cupped her breasts, immediately going hard and achy. One side of his mouth inched up as his thumbs fanned across her stomach as though he was holding her pregnant belly. “My mom said she craved grapefruit with all her kids.”
Trying to ignoring the little fires his touch was setting under her skin, she said, “I couldn’t get enough caramel popcorn and fried clams.”
Both Grif’s grip and mouth tightened. “I missed everything.”
Although part of her wanted to lash out, push this man away so he couldn’t threaten the safe, comfortable world she’d built for Aubrey and herself, Carlie Beth cupped his flexing jaw. “It wasn’t like we were high-school sweethearts. Technically, we weren’t even dating. It was a one-night—”
“Don’t say stand,” he ordered. “I don’t want Aubrey to think she was made from some trashy fuck.”
The word hit Carlie Beth midchest. “Well, I can’t speak for you, but from my side of things, nothing about it was trashy. Or sordid. But it was only one time.”
“Two times.”
“Fine,” she huffed. “But it was only one night. And Grif, we weren’t in love. We liked one another, sure. But I didn’t think a couple of Natural Lights and a night in your car was a good foundation for a family.”
Something hardened in his eyes. Carlie Beth wouldn’t call it angry or mean. If pressed, she’d have to say it was determined.
Maybe this was the real reason she’d never told him. She’d known he was honorable then. All this animosity coming off him now stemmed from his belief that she hadn’t allowed him to do the right thing. And for a man like him, that was untenable.
How was she supposed to push away a man like that?
Grif slid his hands up her body. He wove his fingers into the hair at her nape and used the other hand to circle her neck, with his thumb in the hollow of her throat. And if she’d thought her heart was racing from fear earlier, now it was a NASCAR contender leading the pack.
“Plenty of marriages have been built on less than what we had. We were attracted to each other. We liked each other.”
“We didn’t know one another.”
“Oh, I would argue I knew you pretty damn well.” His gaze was locked on hers, pulling her in. Pulling her under. “It only took me one time to know how you like to be touched. Where to put my fingers and my mouth to send you tumbling. To make you scream.”
The memories of his hands on her body—in his backseat, on his hood, in Yvonne’s stockroom—rushed over her, and every muscle in her body tightened with inappropriate arousal. He was right. She wanted his fingers between her legs and his mouth on hers. She wanted his body inside hers.
So much that she could feel her body readying itself.
Why him? Why now?
The shame she wanted to feel for having an unexplainable craving for this sexy, complicated man simply wouldn’t surface.
“What do you want, Grif? What are you trying to accomplish by dredging up the past?”
He blew out a breath and glanced away, allowing her to regain a sliver of composure. It wouldn’t be good to let him know just how affected she was by him. Yeah, right. As if she could hide that after their little rendezvous in Yvonne’s storage room.
He damn well knew she was still attracted to him.
“You can’t just breeze into town, let the hey-Aubrey-I’m-your-dear-old-dad cat out of the bag, and think she won’t be hurt when you leave.”
When he turned back, his face was like acid-etched metal in the shadows. “Oh, I’m more than clear on what I want from Aubrey. I want to get to know her better. She’s a beautiful young woman. Smart, with a little attitude.” He leaned in, his lips so close to Carlie Beth’s she could feel his breath feather across them. “The question I don’t have an answer to yet is exactly what I want from you. But it’s something, Carlie Beth, and you’ll know not long after I do.”
* * *
God, he’d wanted to kiss her. So damn bad his hands were still clenched into fists as he circled the outside of the building looking to confirm Carlie Beth’s story. If someone had been in or around the complex when she arrived, there was no evidence of it now.
Damn her for shaking up his emotions. Over the past few days, he’d felt more about her, with her, for her than he had about anything in a long damn time. His system was in overdrive—
pinballing from pissed off to protective to turned on.
Yet he hadn’t explained a damn thing about Madison because any time he thought of her, how she’d worked him from the first second she met him, he questioned if he was anything but the hick who’d left North Carolina.
After searching the inside of the building and still finding no one, he had to do something to burn off the adrenaline Carlie Beth had stirred up in him. It was as if he was stuck on the top of a razor-wire fence, with one leg firmly planted on the Los Angeles side and the other dangling on the Steele Ridge side. And all the while, his balls were getting sliced and diced.
Almost literally. His scrotum still ached from being used as Carlie Beth’s punching bag. But damn if he wasn’t proud of the fact that she could hold her own.
Still, Grif’s entire nervous system was on overload—from his bruised balls to the near kiss to the sickness about his mess of a life. Even though Reid would have a shit-fit if he ever found out Grif had done a solo climb, right now he needed to be on that wall so bad. That was the only way he could shove away his conflicting thoughts and feelings about a woman he should hate instead of want.
Fuck it.
He put on his gear and prepped to make a solo climb with a grigri—the only assisted braking device he had here. With a glance at the gloves, he decided he wanted the feel of the handholds under his palms, even if the damn things were fake rocks. If he was lucky, one of them would have a sharp edge and slice him up.
At least then, he’d know he should be feeling pain.
Once he took up the slack in the rope and chalked his hands, he stood in front of the wall, considering his path. Straight up was too easy
. But if he started down here on the left and made his way to the right, that would provide not only a longer climb but a tougher challenge.
Exactly what he needed to empty his mind of everything—and everyone—else.
Ignoring the low holds, he jumped and grabbed one a foot above his head. He allowed his body to swing there for a few seconds, savoring the stretch in his lat muscles.
Then slowly, so slowly his biceps jumped with the effort, he pulled himself up as if executing a one-armed chin-up.
Fuck, yeah.
Finally, when that arm was close to rebelling, he arced out and caught a hold with his right foot, distributing his weight more evenly. But now he was stretched at an awkward forty-five-degree angle that didn’t make his next move easy.
Grif torqued his torso and rotated his shoulder to touch a rock above him, his fingers just grazing the lip. Not a lot of security, but when had he ever chosen his moves based on security?
Every two or three moves, he took up the slack, once again pulling his belay tight.
He didn’t try to take the wall fast. In fact, he drew out each move, each overreach, until his muscles screamed for him to change positions. This was what he needed. Intense focus that made everything else a blur.
When he made it within five feet of the top, he paused to consider his final move or two. There were a couple of easy grips that would have him up and over the wall within seconds. But what was the use of taking the easy way out now? He needed to top off this climb with a bold move.
And there it was, a handhold eighteen inches out of his stretch range. Even if he used his toes, it wouldn’t work. If he wanted to make that, he’d have to let go of the wall for a fraction of a second.
Fucking perfect analogy for his life right now, because he sure didn’t have a decent grip on any part of it.
He took up the slack from his top rope and readied his body, positioning himself and giving his muscles strict instructions on what they needed to do to make this move happen.
And then he pushed off, feet and hands free of the wall…until…until…his right hand caught his objective. He gripped, grinning to himself as the rest of his limbs swung free because he’d done it.
Going Hard: Steele Ridge Series Page 12
