Going Hard: Steele Ridge Series

by Kelsey Browning

  Yvonne made a sudden move, and expecting another blow with the tongs, Carlie Beth jumped to her right, only to have Yvonne’s fist connect with her temple from the left. Pop. Things flashed in Carlie Beth’s head that shouldn’t have. But still she wrapped her hand around the hammer on her worktable.

  She opened her mouth and let out a loud, long yell like the self-defense instructor had taught in class. Yvonne’s eye flew wide at the sound and she stood still, giving Carlie Beth an opening. She brought the hammer around with every ounce of strength she had in her body only to have Yvonne dodge and avoid most of the blow.

  “You bitch, you don’t love me! You can’t love me and hurt me at the same time.”

  God, the irony.

  From outside, Maggie yelled, “Grif Steele, don’t you dare—”

  The forge’s door slammed open with such force that it bounced off the metal wall, diverting Carlie Beth’s attention for a second. Just enough time for Yvonne to lurch forward, arcing the heavy tongs down toward Carlie Beth’s head, leaving her left side unprotected. As Yvonne bent her knees, Carlie Beth brought the hammer up and around, catching her temple this time.

  The sound of the steel hammer head connecting with flesh was like a melon dropping to the floor—thick and dull.

  The tongs fell from Yvonne’s grip and she lurched sideways, hitting the worktable with her shoulder, then thudding to the floor.

  Hammer still firmly in her grip, Carlie Beth backed away, but kept watch on Yvonne even as Grif leaned over and felt for a pulse. “Maggie,” he yelled, “Yvonne’s down!”

  Carlie Beth’s stomach contracted, spasming with the need to vomit and forcing tears from her eyes. Her leg throbbing, she stumbled toward Grif without turning her back on Yvonne. Because she would never get caught off guard again.

  Never.

  She made it to Grif and collapsed into his arms just before those stars detonated in her head again.

  34

  Jesus William Christ, after Grif had scooped up Carlie Beth and rushed her to the hospital, he hadn’t closed his eyes for the rest of the night. He just sat in that uncomfortable-as-hell chair and stared at her, half-afraid the doctor had made a mistake, saying she was sleeping, but that she was actually in a coma.

  At one point, Aubrey had pulled her chair closer, given him a comforting hug, and said, “She’s tough. Don’t worry.”

  At about three in the morning, he’d finally talked Aubrey into letting Reid take her back to Tupelo Hill, hoping Carlie Beth would be awake by the time Aubrey returned to the hospital. But it was now ten and Carlie Beth still hadn’t opened her eyes. God, what did he have to do to get a miracle around here?

  The door to Carlie Beth’s room eased inward—proving without a doubt that the person entering wasn’t a medical professional—and Maggie walked in. “Hey,” she whispered. “Has she woken up yet?”

  Barely sparing his cousin a glance, he shook his head. How could he have let Carlie Beth go in there last night? That crazy bitch Yvonne had almost killed her.

  He took a small bit of satisfaction in knowing that the woman was in this very hospital on another floor, handcuffed to the bed and in a true coma. A very small and mean part of him wished she had died on that damn floor last night.

  The door opened again and in came the first wave of his family, with Aubrey leading the pack. Evie held a small travel bag, and his mom was hugging a tub of cookies that would’ve provided snacks for every daycare in North Carolina for a year. Aubrey’s forehead was creased in worry, and Grif held out his hand to her. She rushed to him, filling him with such a painful joy his throat went tight, and he pulled her down in his lap.

  The only thing better than her head on his shoulder would be when her mom opened those beautiful brown eyes.

  “Grif, we need to talk,” Maggie whispered. “We searched Yvonne’s house and the gallery.”

  “Don’t tell me you need some other kind of proof to hold her. She beat the shi…crap…crud out of Carly Beth.”

  “Crap is fine, Dad,” Aubrey told him.

  “Oh, no,” Maggie said. “Ms. Winters won’t be going anywhere but prison for the rest of her life. Come out into the hall.”

  “If you have something to say, do it in here.” At Carlie Beth’s gritty words, Grif shot out of the chair, almost dumping Aubrey on the floor in the process.

  “Mom!”

  “Hey, baby.”

  Aubrey leaned over to hug Carlie Beth, but stopped herself. “I don’t think I should touch you.”

  Carlie Beth blindly reached for her hand. “I don’t hurt here. How about this?”

  Maggie said, “I’ll just wait outside for you, Grif.”

  “There’s something you don’t want somebody to hear, and I’m betting it’s me,” Carlie Beth said. Her voice sounded as if someone had scratched sandpaper over her vocal cords, so Grif reached for the water pitcher.

  “Shortcake, can you take a sip?”

  Her eyes finally cracked open. “Bedside service?”

  “You scared the crap out of me.”

  “Why? You told me you’d never let anything happen to Aubrey or me.”

  “I let you walk in there with that psycho stalker.”

  Carlie Beth’s small smile was aimed at his mom. “Oh, he thinks he can let me do things. Is this a bad sign?”

  “Love is a tightrope, sweetheart. Remember that.”

  Carlie Beth’s focus shifted to Maggie. “Tell us. We’re all family.”

  The word family cruised through Grif like a fine port—warm and intoxicating. He hadn’t fucked everything up last night—the botched proposal, letting Carlie Beth and Aubrey down, almost losing them both.

  They were a family, wedding or not. And no one was ever going to take these two away from him.

  “We went through Yvonne’s things,” Maggie said. “We found a crowbar with flakes of blue paint on it that we suspect she used to vandalize Grif’s car.”

  “That’s all?” he asked. “What about the quenching oil?”

  “Oh, we found that and plenty more. Carlie Beth, how long would you say she’d been carrying the pieces you make?”

  With a small wince, Carlie Beth said, “Around three years, I think.”

  “And how many items would you estimate you’ve placed with her in that time?”

  “I don’t know offhand. I’d have to look back over my inventory records. Maybe a couple hundred. Some small things like wall hooks. A few more elaborate pieces like a special order chandelier for one of her customers.”

  The look Maggie aimed Grif’s way told him he wasn’t going to like her next words a damn bit. “That’s about the number we found stockpiled in her house. All signed with CEP and marked with a bird in flight symbol—a hawk, maybe?”

  “What? Are you saying—”

  “That she didn’t sell a single one of your items as far as we can tell.”

  “But…but she said Ian Brinkmann bought something, and that iron chandelier I was commissioned for supposedly sold for over a thousand dollars. Good Lord, that witch paid for Aubrey’s braces.”

  “Unfortunately, we have to take everything in as evidence right now.”

  “And I thought I was starting to do well.” Carlie Beth’s laugh was hollow and Grif carefully brushed her hair back. He wanted to kiss away her pain, but a room full of people and a big goose egg on her temple didn’t exactly encourage intimacy.

  Maggie gave Carlie Beth a nod. “Again, real sorry about that. But, girl, you have some nerves of steel. Let me know if you ever decide to give up blacksmithing for law enforcement.”

  “Oh, hell no,” Grif said.

  Maggie waved on her way out, and Carlie Beth’s smile was real now. “I don’t know if you know this about me, but I’m kind of a badass.”

  “You’re a bruised badass.”

  Evie stepped close to Carlie Beth’s bed. “I am so sorry. This was all my fault. I’ll understand if you never want Aubrey around me again.”

  Carli
e Beth did a little eye roll that said she’d heard this kind of drama before and Grif held in a grin. She told his sister, “It wasn’t your fault. It’s a crazy woman’s fault. Plain and simple.”

  “Reid’s at home right now, probably ripping out those doors and framing in the whole thing. If I know him, he’ll take my windows away, too.”

  His mom skimmed a hand over Carlie Beth’s feet, covered by the sheet. “Sweetheart, we’re just going to leave these things and let you have some time with your family.”

  Carlie Beth held out her arms to his mom. “I hope you’re all my family now.”

  “Good,” his mom said, giving the love of his life a gentle hug. “Then get yourself out of this hospital as soon as possible.”

  “I will.”

  Once his mom and Evie left, Carlie Beth closed her eyes. “I can’t believe I knocked her out.”

  “Knocked her out? She hasn’t regained consciousness since they hauled her in here last night.”

  “I’m not sure that makes me feel better.”

  Aubrey bent closer to the bed, near Carlie Beth’s left hand. “Mom, what’s this?”

  Grif couldn’t hold back a smile. When they’d brought her in last night, the nurse had tried to take the ring off her finger, but Carlie Beth had curled her hand into a fist and mumbled something that sounded like Not in this lifetime.

  “It’s an engagement ring.” Her forehead wrinkled. “At least I think it is.”

  “Oh yeah,” he told her. “I’m adding a wedding band to that. The jeweler told me he could solder the two together if we want. And I definitely want.”

  “You’re getting married? The two of you?”

  “That’s the plan.” He took his daughter’s hand and they stood on either side of Carlie Beth, making a circle of three. He kissed the back of Aubrey’s hand, then smoothed his lips against Carlie Beth’s.

  And soaked in the sweet taste of home.

  * * *

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  Living FAST

  by Adrienne Giordano

  Enjoy an excerpt from Adrienne Giordano’s Living FAST, Book Three in the Steele Ridge series:

  * * *

  Something drew Randi's gaze and Brynne glanced over her shoulder to find Reid Steele, the most perfectly chiseled hunk of man she might have ever set eyes on, entering the Triple B. Reid had gone to school with her sister and even back then he was a hottie. Now, he'd been back in town for a few months, since his stint with the Army ended. Between the dark hair and muscles, a Reid sighting sent every female hormone in town fluttering.

  Brynne's included. Except she only wanted to look. Looking was harmless. Looking didn't require the gutting, soul-sucking, emotional annihilation of relationships.

  Besides, she'd sworn off men for the next five years.

  Particularly ones like Reid. From the time she was ten and Reid sixteen, she'd been watching her older sister roll through boys while Reid did just as much rolling with the girls.

  In the backseat of his car.

  At least that's what Brynne had heard. And looking at him? All that swagger and cool confidence, she didn't doubt it.

  "Ladies," he said as he strode toward them and settled onto the bar stool next to Brynne.

  "Hi, Reid," she said. "Nice work with the ducks."

  He slid off his sunglasses and his deep blue eyes—stormy ocean—zoomed in on her, traveled over her face, settling on her lips, and the usual nagging insecurity poked at her. Stupid ex-husband. They'd met as sophomores in college after she'd come so far in slaying her childhood demons. College had been paradise. Newly confident and shedding weight, little by little, Brynne had enjoyed freedom from her insecurities and then…New York, where her kind, amiable Kurt turned into an aggressive and highly critical up-and-comer. He scrutinized her appearance daily, sometimes hourly, until she was afraid to leave the house without his appraisal.

  At least until he dumped her.

  She lifted her fingers to her lips. The lipstick. She'd tried a new shade today, hadn't liked it and rubbed it off. Maybe she'd gotten some on her face.

  No. She'd checked. Five times. She dropped her hand, forced herself to be still. To not step back or run from the blast of Reid Steele's focused attention. The man was so darned intense. Totally unnerving.

  "Thanks," he said. "Always ready to please a woman in distress."

  At that, Brynne snorted and Randi mockingly fanned herself. Such a man.

  "What can I get you, Reid?" Randi asked.

  He snagged the menu from the holder on the bar. "I'll have a beer to start. Whatever's on tap. And you know I'm digging your Gouda burger. I'll have one of those, too. Medium rare."

  "You got it."

  Randi set a beer in front of him and wandered off to the kitchen, leaving Brynne alone with the hunk of all hunks. Great. What would they, the chubby girl and the beefcake, possibly have to talk about?

  He pushed his sunglasses and keys off to the side and swiveled to her, once again storming her with all his attention. Fighting the urge to make herself smaller, she threw her shoulders back and sucked in her stomach.

  "So," he said, "I…uh…need a gift for Evie."

  Evie. Yay. Neutral ground. Plus, Brynne loved Evie. She only got to see her on weekends since she was away at school, but even with their four-year age difference, they'd immediately clicked when Evie started working at the shop.

  If Brynne remembered correctly, Miss Evie had a birthday coming up.

  "I was in your shop the other day," Reid said. "You weren't there."

  "I have part-timers that help out."

  "I couldn't figure out what to get her, but I'll tell ya, it smelled good in there."

  "It's potpourri," Brynne said. "Made by a friend with neroli oil. If customers like it, I'll start carrying it in the store."

  "My mom goes for all that stuff."

  Ah. Potential sale already. "I'll give you some to take to her. She can be my test case."

  She set her purse on the bar, snatched her iPad out and tapped at the screen. "I have Evie's wish list in my customer file."

  "Her wish list?"

  "Yes. If customers see something they like, they tell me and I add it to their file. Kind of like a bridal registry."

  Reid scrunched his face. "A what?"

  How cute was he? She entered Evie's name into her customer file and…yep. Birthday next month.

  Beside her, Reid shifted and she glanced back to see his insanely haunting eyes sliding down her body, landing, if her guess was correct, on her butt.

  She bolted upright, casually angling sideways and hiding the ginormous continent known as her rear. The one her ex-husband insisted would get smaller if she lowered her fat intake.

  Forget him. She cleared her throat, drawing Reid's gaze back to her face. "You must be getting ahead of your shopping."

  The comment was met with silence. And a straight-faced look of bewilderment.

  "Uh, getting ahead?"

  What was she missing here? She rolled one hand. "Evie. Her birthday is next month."

  "Shit," Reid said.

  Oh, my. "I thought that's what you needed a gift for."

  His lips quirked and he ran his hand over his face before hitting her with the full-wattage I-am-the-man smile that had probably taken out half the female population on the Eastern seaboard.

  "Busted me," he said.

  "Sorry?"

  "I…uh…saw you outside. Wanted to say hello."

  Well, that was neighborly, but, really, she didn't even know him. Sure, she knew of him, everyone in this town knew the Steeles. But he certainly didn't know her and didn't need to go out of his way to say hello.

  She cocked her head and the corner of his mouth lifted. "I used Evie as an excuse. To talk to you."

  Okay. What was she suppos
ed to say to that?

  "Alrighty," he said. "I've definitely lost my touch because I'm hitting on you and you don't even know it."

  Hitting on her? The man who induced flash-mob panty drops was hitting on her? Even if men weren't the scum of the earth, who'd have guessed Reid Steele, master of the orgasm—if the rumors were true—would even notice her.

  Not plain-old Brynne. Her normal truckload of makeup and big hair helped, but she still couldn't compete with her sister's natural beauty and sculpted bones.

  A flaming ball of heat rushed up her throat and she whirled away before her face flooded with color. "Um." She stuffed the iPad back into her purse. "There's a bracelet Evie wants. They're like bangles, but they have different charms you can add."

  "Bangles?"

  Without looking at him, she held her wrist up. "This. Sterling silver. How much did you want to spend?"

  "Whatever. If that's what she wants."

  "Yep," she chirped. "That's what she wants. You can keep buying her charms." Still refusing to look at him—five-year plan, five-year plan, five-year plan—she tapped a note into her phone. "I can set one aside for you when I go back to the store. Shall I wrap it for you?"

  Reid dug into the back pocket of his jeans, and his T-shirt stretched across his chest and—wow—the guy was ripped.

  And then ripped some more.

  Total man candy.

  He slapped his wallet on the bar. "Wrapping it would be good. How much?"

  "Eighty-five. Plus tax."

  His eyes widened. "Holy hell, my sister thinks all her brothers are billionaires. Let's bill that to Jonah."

  She stared back at him, mute. Dear God, what was wrong with her? He'd made that damned crack about hitting on her and now she was totally thrown.

  Reid let out a huffing laugh. "I'm going down in flames here. Brynne, I'm kidding. It's a running joke in my family. Bill everything to Jonah." He waved it away. "Never mind. I don't have that much cash on me. I'll stop in and you can run my card. That work?"

  She put her phone back into her purse, went to move the purse to a stool, knocked over the cup of straws Randi had on the edge of the bar, and decided she wanted to die right then.