When he’d used up every ounce of hot water, he pulled on a T-shirt and sweats, then made his way to his so-called great room. Britt was up, his blanket and pillow folded and piled neatly on one end of the couch. His attention was zeroed in on a paper in front of him, what looked like some kind of map with symbols for trees and arrows and other stuff.
“I’m surprised you didn’t come in and watch me shower.”
Britt didn’t look up. “Figured if I heard a two-hundred pound crash, I’d check on you.”
“One eighty-five,” he corrected.
A grunt was Britt’s only acknowledgment. To Grif’s annoyance, however, his brother’s ass stayed firmly planted on the sagging cushions of his new-old couch. God, he was gonna burn that damn thing the minute he had the energy to drop it out one of the second-story windows.
For now, he shuffled into his makeshift kitchen and popped a K-cup into his Keurig. If he wasn’t careful, he’d have a fully functioning apartment before he’d realized what had happened.
That made him wonder what Carlie Beth and Aubrey’s kitchen looked like in that tiny house on the edge of town. Had Carlie Beth been able to afford nice appliances or did she make do with secondhand crap? Just thinking about her and Aubrey being forced to get their housewares and appliances at a thrift store or yard sale made his head start throbbing again.
They damn well deserved better than that.
But so far, Carlie Beth hadn’t deposited the check he’d slapped down in front of her like a complete bastard. Hell, she’d probably never seen that much money in her life. Growing up, her family hadn’t been broke, but the Parrishes had been a lot like the Steeles—working class all the way. Which meant living paycheck to paycheck most of the time.
Evie was the only kid his parents had been able to afford to put through college. Even now, his mom insisted on paying the tuition from her monthly retirement check.
And it was already obvious that Aubrey was college material. He’d make damn sure she never had to worry where her next tuition payment was coming from. But somehow, he and Carlie Beth needed to come to a detente so he could convince her to take money from him. He should’ve told her last night that he’d never actually fight her for custody. That had been posturing on his part. And stupid because he knew better than to threaten something he’d never follow through on.
Before Grif’s coffee finished brewing, Britt stacked his papers so the edges were perfectly aligned, then strolled over to the small kitchenette. He rooted around in the fridge and pulled a couple of things from a cabinet.
“Where did that bowl come from?” Grif asked, grabbing his coffee and taking a life-giving swig.
Britt spared him a glance over his shoulder. “Same place the couch did.”
Great. “The whisk and measuring cups too?”
“Yup.”
“Something wrong with the discount store?”
“Why buy new when these are perfectly good?”
“Maybe because someone’s used them already?”
“I washed them.” One of Britt’s shoulders rose and fell as he whisked the hell out of an egg, some flour, and a few other ingredients.
“Where do you plan to cook pancakes?”
“There.” He angled his chin toward the microwave. “And they’re microwave muffins.”
“I’m not five. You don’t have to cook me breakfast. We could’ve walked down the street and grabbed something from the Mad Batter.”
“Reid’s coming by and wanted me to make sure you stayed put.”
And now even the least maternal of all his siblings was getting in on the babysitting action. If Jonah showed up too, with a Disney movie and ice cream in hand, Grif would know he’d hit his head hard enough that the doctor had predicted he’d be dead within the day.
Couple minutes later, the microwave dinged and Britt shoved a hot mug into Grif’s hands along with a fork. “You can eat it straight out of there or dump it on a plate.”
Grif leaned a hip against the counter and dug in. The bite he shoved in his mouth tasted of apples and cinnamon and made him think of Carlie Beth, which woke up a few body parts besides his stomach. “This is actually pretty good,” he said around another mouthful.
Britt just nodded and ate his own breakfast.
They were finishing up when the pounding started on his door, setting off aftershocks in Grif’s head. There was only one person he knew who knocked like King Kong. “Doesn’t Reid remember I had a concussion?”
Sure enough, when Grif opened the door, his brother was standing there, hands on his hips and a scowl on his face. “You look like shit.”
Grif glanced over his brother’s own sartorial splendor of T-shirt and cargo pants. “You’re one to talk.”
“No one invited me to breakfast?”
“I didn’t realize we were doing brunch the morning after I went to the ER.”
Reid’s scowl deepened. “Yeah, that’s actually why I’m here. We need to round up the troops and talk this thing through. Mom and Evie are going to Asheville to shop today, leaving early afternoon, so we have some time to strategize. You and Britt can pick up sandwiches on the way to the Hill.”
“I don’t know if you noticed, but your little brother roped me into a damn job, which is why I have that so-called office setup downstairs, which means I need to get my ass to work.”
“I’m wondering if someone isn’t happy about you taking over as city manager.”
“Exactly what I told Jonah when I discovered someone had carved up Louise.”
Reid shook his head in pained disgust, probably over Louise rather than Grif. “Figured you’d want to know that when I went up to check the handholds last night, they were still secure in the wall.”
“Just say it, I was stupid and reckless to self-belay.” Not the first time and probably wouldn’t be the last.
“Who knows you climb?”
“Anyone who knew me in high school. It wasn’t a secret that I went up to Boone on the weekends.”
“Then we’ve got a hell of a lot of thinking to do, because someone fucked you over.”
“Huh?”
“What do you remember right before you came off the wall?”
“That I grabbed a handhold, but my fingers wouldn’t stay wrapped around it.”
“Anything else?”
“I didn’t have a lot of time to think before I was dangling by my top rope.”
“Well, the last row of grips? Someone had greased them up good before you got up there.”
Carlie Beth had been in the building last night. Would she have…no. It wasn’t worth mentioning to his brothers. Regardless of how pissed she was, if she wanted to hurt him, she’d come at him from the front. And he couldn’t imagine she’d risk someone else climbing that wall and getting banged around.
“Carlie Beth thought she heard someone running down the stairs last night.”
“Then we need her out at the house, too,” Reid said.
“You said the holds were greasy—with what? Maybe that’ll tell us something.”
“Had the consistency of plain old vegetable oil. Which means our perp could be anyone who has three bucks to spend down at Hoffman’s Grocery Store.”
* * *
Carlie Beth looked at the old Murchison building’s front door and blew out a breath. She and Grif had accomplished nothing last night. Nothing except confusing her and turning her on so much she’d stood under a cool shower for a quarter hour after finishing all the wine and the entire bar of chocolate.
But when she tapped on the door, no one answered. So she twisted the knob and pushed it open. “Grif?”
The lack of answer made her realize she needed to stop doing this—just showing up unannounced. She looked around to find the old store empty of everything but a bare bones office setup. Maybe Grif was still upstairs in the apartment she’d heard he rented as well.
“Hey there, Carlie Beth.” She swung her focus toward the staircase to find Reid Steele coming d
own. How a man his size could move so quietly was a mystery. He should’ve made a noise like a buffalo when he walked. “Looking for your baby daddy?”
Oh my God. He had not just called Grif her…her…
He busted out a laugh. “You look like I just knocked you over the head with the butt of a gun.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re completely inappropriate?”
“All the time.” He grinned. “I have to say I can’t see what you saw in him. He was a skinny little runt way back then.”
Lean maybe, but even at eighteen Grif had plenty of bulk where it counted. Not that she was about to say that to his brother.
“But I met your daughter and have to admit the two of you did pretty damn good work.”
“Thank you.” For some reason, the backhanded compliment warmed Carlie Beth’s insides. “She’s a great kid.”
Reid’s grin faded. “You realize we all want to get to know her better, right?”
“Yes…but…I…This is all new to me.”
“No, it’s new to us. You’ve known exactly what was what for almost fifteen years now.”
And somehow, that simple statement made her feel smaller and more regretful than ever about this situation. But her daughter came first, always. “I asked Grif about Madison Henry last night.”
Oh, the happy-go-lucky expression on Reid’s face was definitely gone now, and his stance shifted so his weight was on his back foot. On the offensive, ready to fight. “What do you need to know?”
“How much of the story is true.”
“Don’t make assumptions based on gossip and blog posts. Get the truth from Grif.”
“I tried.”
“Try again,” he said, then sighed. “Look, I’ll say one thing. He let her slip one over on him and he prides himself on seeing all the angles, on always having the upper hand. She and that jagoff client of his sideswiped him like he was riding a tricycle on the freeway. Can you imagine how that makes a man like him feel?”
She imagined it made him feel like shit. Embarrassed. Shameful.
Reid reached out, squeezed her shoulder with what felt like affection. “You may not have had a damn thing to do with him for years, but you’ve always been smart. Tell me you actually believe you have a daughter with a man who beats up women. Tell me that, and I won’t press you about letting Aubrey know this family.”
“I don’t believe it. But…this…It’s hard to share her.”
“Mom and Evie are doing a girls’ thing this afternoon, shopping and all that crap. They’d be over the moon if you’d let Aubrey go with them.”
A lump of something she couldn’t quite name lodged itself right behind her breastbone. She wasn’t much of a fashion shopper, but she and Aubrey had always done girl things together. The two of them. The three of them if Aubrey brought along a friend.
But it was time to let Aubrey get to know her family. “I’ll give her a call.”
“Why don’t you tell her they’ll swing by to pick her up on their way out of town? Probably around noon.”
Carlie Beth glanced at her watch. It was almost eleven now. “I’ll let her know.”
Reid wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in for a bolstering hug. “You won’t regret this, any of it. I promise.” Then he released her and strolled toward the front door, tossing a few final words over his shoulder, “By the way, Grif got a little banged up last night. You might want to go upstairs and check on him.”
“What do you mean—”
The door shut behind him.
Fine, one thing at a time. She dialed Aubrey’s number.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Hey, how would you like to do a little shopping this afternoon?”
“Really?” Aubrey’s voice perked up. “Could we do a mani-pedi? I mean, I know a mani is wasted on you, but—”
“Not with me. How would you like to spend some time with Miss Joan and Evie Steele?”
The silence from the other end of the phone was somehow both expectant and hopeful. Finally, Aubrey said, “Do you mean it?”
“Reid…um…your uncle…said they’d be by to pick you up in about an hour.”
“Oh my God, Mom. I have to hang up now and figure out what to wear!”
“Be sure to text me to let me know when you’ll be home.”
“Sure thing. I love you!”
“Love you too, Aub.”
Carlie Beth slipped her phone into the pocket of her jeans and climbed the stairs. Wondering what the heck Reid meant about Grif getting banged up, she knocked lightly on the apartment door, but when it swung open Britt stood on the other side of the threshold. “Oh, I was looking for—”
“Me?” Grif strolled up behind his brother. Since he’d returned to North Carolina, Carlie Beth had never seen Grif look anything but GQ-groomed. Even last night in his workout clothes, he could’ve just stepped out of an Under Armour ad. But today, his hair was a rumpled mess of golden brown strands, dark half-moons circled below his eyes, and his chin… It looked as if he’d gone a few too many rounds with someone twice his size.
“What happened to you?”
“Concussion,” Britt answered before Grif could. “And he needs more rest.” Britt still hadn’t stepped out of the way, just stood there blocking her entry to the apartment and her access to his brother. Apparently, he wouldn’t forgive and forget as easily as Reid.
Behind his back, Grif rolled his slightly bloodshot eyes. “Dude, you cooked me breakfast. You watched me all night. You’ve done your mother-henly duty, so you can get back to your cabin in the woods now.”
“I told Reid I’d bring you out to the Hill.”
“I bet I can find my way out there.”
“You’re not supposed to operate heavy machinery today. You know what the ER staff said about having slow reactions for a while.”
“I’ll drive him,” Carlie Beth said.
A look of surprise zinged across Grif’s face, then he gave his brother a not-so-subtle shove in the back. “See, it’s all taken care of, so why don’t you go do whatever it is you do.”
“But—” Britt glanced at Carlie Beth, then back at his brother. “Do you think this is smart?”
Grif made a grab for some papers lying on what looked like Hattie Martin’s old couch and shoved them into his brother’s hands. “Get. Out.”
The downturn of Britt’s mouth made his displeasure clear, but he eased around Carlie Beth and into the hallway. “He hit his head hard last night. Concussion, so don’t let him fall asleep on you. He could die.”
“For Jesus’ sake,” Grif said. “I don’t make it a habit to fall asleep in the presence of a beautiful woman.”
Carlie Beth couldn’t help herself. She looked down at her boots, jeans, and years-old button-up shirt. Why hadn’t she thought to dress a little more like a girl this morning? Maybe Grif was being a smartass by saying she was beautiful. There was no way she held a candle to the women he dated out west. Stop. You’re thinking crazy crap. He’s smooth and you know it. He probably calls every woman he meets beautiful. Even Madison Henry.
“Have him out at Tupelo Hill by one,” Britt ordered.
She was half tempted to salute him, but figured that would win either her or Grif some kind of lecture. “Will do.”
Once Britt was gone, Grif shook his head in disgust and waved Carlie Beth inside. “That man needs a life.”
“He just wants to protect you.”
“Maybe he’s forgotten I’ve been managing pretty well on my own since I left home.”
She let that slide even though it was obvious he’d had a hard time managing more than a few things recently. “What happened to your chin?”
“Stupidity on my part. Let’s just say that climbing alone wasn’t a good idea.” He gestured toward a tiny makeshift kitchen. “Want some coffee?”
She shook her head. “Already had my cup”—or three—“for the day. Guess it’s too much to hope that you have a bottle of Cheerwine in tha
t fridge?”
He laughed. “I thought only kids drank something that sweet.”
Lord, how could two people have a child together and know so little about each other’s lives? How could she have hidden the truth from him? How could she have pretended he didn’t have a damn thing to do with her life? With Aubrey’s life?
In her mind, it had made things so much simpler. But she’d been fooling herself.
She wandered around the nearly empty space, wishing Grif had some knickknacks she could pick up and play with to calm herself. To make this easier.
He popped a pod into the coffeemaker and while it did its thing, he took a bottle of fancy fizzy water from his fridge. “This okay?”
“Sure.”
Once his coffee was ready, he gestured toward the couch with his cup. “I’d ask you to sit down, but I’m not sure where the hell that thing has been.”
“At 1217 Sweet Gum Street.”
“Huh?”
“It was Mrs. Martin’s.”
His laugh was low and so sexy it traveled through Carlie Beth’s body, setting all her already shot cells into vibration mode. “Well, guess I don’t have to worry about the state of the foldout mattress then. Normally you don’t know who’s done what on those things.”
Carlie Beth couldn’t hold back her smile. “I don’t know. There was a rumor going around for a while that she and Mr. Martin were swingers.”
Grif visibly cringed. “Of all the things I didn’t need to know. That is one of the prime reasons I can’t live in a small town anymore.”
And that killed the ember of hope that had started to kindle inside her, hope that he might still have some affection for this town, but it was clear he thought it was beneath him. Which meant she and Aubrey were, too. She set her unopened water back on the countertop. “Do you hate your hometown so much?”
His chin and eyebrows rose at that. “I don’t hate it.”
“Maybe hate isn’t the right word.” She mulled it over for a moment. “Disdain might be better. You show up once or twice a year, always sporting clothes and a haircut that would cost most people around here several months’ salary.”
“When did being financially successful become a crime?”
Going Hard: Steele Ridge Series Page 14
