Upper Hand (Cedar Tree Book 5)

by Freya Barker

  A full pig roast was organized for the party after, with Malachi in charge, who seemed a little quiet these days. Not that he’d ever been particularly talkative, but I’d noticed anyway. For a bit, I thought he was dating Kendra, or at least that’s what I heard through the grapevine. I’d only seen them together once, but then he hadn’t been around much these past months either. I just assumed he was mostly out of town on assignment.

  Seb had taken care of hors d’oeuvres, and Emma insisted on making the wedding cake, which was absolutely stunning, two tiers of delicious almond cake, because we didn’t have a big enough crowd to warrant three, covered in chocolate fondant and decorated with handcrafted, sugar paste white roses. Just gorgeous. Seemed like a shame to eat it, but we did, although Emma assured us she’d made a smaller one and had wrapped it tight and frozen it. For our first wedding anniversary.

  We partied until late in the night, in no hurry to call it a day, because we weren’t scheduled to go on our honeymoon for a few days yet.

  That was then, this is now. I’m Mrs. Beth Mason. Weird. I’ve never been a Mrs. before. Needless to say, last night when we arrived, we barely got our bags in the room before Clint was all over me. I didn’t object... much. But as a result I’ve not seen a damn thing of the resort we’re staying at, since we arrived late at night.

  “I want to see this place,” I mumble into his shoulder, where I’m hiding from the bright sunlight. “I want to walk on the beach, I’ve never done that before, and I want to go zip lining, I hear it’s fun.” From the shaking under my cheek, I know Clint is laughing at me, something he does a lot of, but I don’t mind. At least not anymore, not since those damn pills kicked in.

  “Zip lining, babe? You couldn’t think of something else? Like collecting shells or something? Learn to hula dance?”

  “What? You think I’m too old for that?” I’m gearing myself up to be indignant, but I have to say, lazing in bed with no place to be and nothing to be done, not to mention being plastered against a mighty fine male specimen, I can’t quite muster up the fire.

  “Old? Hell no, not too old, but don’t you think it’s risky?”

  Now it’s my turn to chuckle. “Scared to? You don’t have to come, you can just stay on the ground and watch me whip by.”

  A sharp sting on my ass, where he just smacked me. “Clint!”

  “Careful, babe, you know what happens when you taunt me. I’m not afraid of anything. I’ll go with you, but you’ll have to convince me to let you out of this bed first,” he says, rolling me to my back and settling on top of me. With his nose almost touching mine, he smiles sweetly and with teeth. Almost as rare as when Arlene does it. “I’ll make sure you get to do it all. Everything you ever wanted, I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you get it.”

  My hands come up to cup his jaw.

  “Honey, you’ve already given me all.” I lift my head so I can kiss him. but then he firmly takes over the kiss. Typical. When he lets me up for air I quickly add, “Except maybe control in the bedroom.”

  Laughing out loud, he buries his face in my neck, and proceeds to show me in a variety of ways that it’s not necessarily such a bad thing, not having the upper hand.

  -

  We finally left our room two days later and I got to see the beautiful scenery around the resort. I walked on the beach, letting warm sand squeeze up between my toes.

  And then we went zip lining.

  ——THE END——

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS:

  If it seems like I’m always thanking the same people, that’s because I am. My family to whom I owe a great deal of gratitude for accepting me for who I am and supporting me always, regardless of which path I choose to walk. They may not always agree with the choices I make but that doesn’t stop them from wanting it all for me and helping me get there. I am very fortunate, and I know it.

  There is no way I can not acknowledge my beta-readers, quite a few of whom have been there from the very first book. They tell me straight up when things don’t make sense, or when I make mistakes. And I do. Lots of them. The version they get to read is a raw as it can be and they work hard at cleaning my mess to get it ready for edit.

  Chris Alderson Kovacich, Kerry-Ann Bell, Debbie Bishop, Deb Blake, Pam Buchanan, Leanne Hawkes, Sam Price, Catherine Scott, Nancy Huddleston—I love you guys forever!

  I so appreciate the ongoing support I receive from the Indie community and its authors. There isn’t a group more generous than these men and women who work so very hard to bring you the best they have to offer, and still manage to help each other out.

  The invaluable bloggers and reviewers who take the time to read an enormous number of advanced reading copies for upcoming books, just to give you some idea of what is on offer in the book world. Not only that, they are worth their weight in gold when it comes to promoting our books and they do this without any compensation. The Indie community would be on its ass without them.

  This time I want to highlight my oldest brother Hans, who without fail, manages to pick out the few spelling mistakes that inevitably fall through the cracks and for which I am solely responsible. Love you!

  And of course you, the readers, who have been growing steadily in numbers, supporting and encouraging me. Those of you who have come to visit me at one of the author signings, I so appreciate that! It’s wonderful to have an opportunity to interact directly with readers.

  The final thank you comes from the bottom of my heart and goes to Karen Hrdlicka. If Karen wasn’t already a friend long before I asked her to edit Upper Hand, she certainly would be now. It was an absolute pleasure working with you, doll. Love your face!! xox

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Freya Barker craved reading about 'real' people, those who are perhaps less than perfect, but just as deserving of romance, hot monkey sex and some thrills and chills in their lives – So she decided to write about them.

  Always creative, from an early age on she danced and sang, doodled, created, cooked, baked, quilted and crafted. Her latest creative outlets were influenced by an ever-present love for reading. First through blogging, then cover art and design, and finally writing.

  Born and raised in the Netherlands, she packed her two toddlers, and eight suitcases filled with toys to move to Canada. No stranger to new beginnings, she thrives on them.

  With the kids grown and out in the world, Freya is at the ‘prime’ of her life. The body might be a bit ramshackle, but the spirit is high and as adventurous as ever. Something you may see reflected here and there in some of her heroines.... none of who will likely be wilting flowers.

  Freya

  https://www.freyabarker.com

  https://www.goodreads.com/FreyaBarker

  https://www.facebook.com/FreyaBarkerWrites

  https://tsu.co/FreyaB

  https://twitter.com/freya_barker

  or mailto:freyabarker.writes@gmail.com

  ALSO BY THIS AUTHOR

  CEDAR TREE SERIES:

  Book #1

  SLIM TO NONE

  myBook.to/SlimToNone

  Book #2

  HUNDRED TO ONE

  myBook.to/HundredToOne

  Book #3

  AGAINST ME

  myBook.to/AgainstMe

  Book #4

  CLEAN LINES

  myBook.to/CleanLines

  AS WELL AS:

  FROM DUST

  (A dark emotional romance)

  Amazon (universal):

  myBook.to/FromDust

  B&N:

  http://bit.ly/1DuO7ZD

  Kobo:

  http://bit.ly/1gae320

  iBooks:

  http://apple.co/1ILipDC

  COMING SOON

  LIKE ARROWS

  (Cedar Tree #6)

  Coming January, 2016

  Unedited excerpt

  CHAPTER ONE

  “I’ll have a chicken salad and a glass of water, please.”

  Her voice is as timid as her appearance. Like a little mouse
, she slipped in behind me and sat down at the furthest booth. Shocked I tried my best not to show any reaction to her showing up here. I never expected to have one of the people I’ve been keeping an eye on show up at Arlene’s Diner. Sure, it’s popular around these parts, but given that I live in the apartment above and take most my meals here, it feels like more than a coincidence. This is why I’m keeping my back turned and my ears perked.

  Arlene tags her the minute she comes out of the kitchen and is taking her order. Fucking chicken salad and water, who lives on that? I’ve had reason to keep her in my sights since taking on this assignment and the woman rarely eats more than that from what I’ve seen. Seems to feel comfortable in the real estate office she works, but the moment she steps out she seems to want to disappear in the shadows. Head always low, never making eye contact and wrapping herself up in that godawful blanket thing: some kind of poncho.

  It’s her boss I’m really keeping track of. Gus got a call from the Ute reservation a few weeks ago. The council had concerns about two farms backing onto reservation lands. The chief mentioned that both had sold within a month of the other through Martin Vedica, the little mouse’s boss, and they had moved out within days. A third farm, owned by an older couple was being targeted as well. The couple, Ezhno and Tiva Walker, had moved off the reservation some thirty years earlier to raise their family. They didn’t go far, since their property backs right onto McElmo Creek near Finley Canyon, which is on reservation lands. In fact, it is wedged between reservation boundaries and the southern border of Canyons of the Ancients National Park.

  Gus asked me to keep an eye out and I have, but with Vedica out of town since yesterday, I’d been using the time to do some online digging, but so far have come up with little or nothing.

  Keeping my eye on the stainless steel backsplash behind the counter, I can see in the reflection that her face is turned my way. It isn’t busy in the diner right now, being lunch time, but there are still a few booths occupied. Still I know they are her eyes burning in my back, and I wonder if she could possibly have spotted me before.

  Kimeo Lowe. A rather exotic name for a plain little mouse like that. Soft voice, soft brown eyes and from what I’ve been able to distinguish, a soft rounded body. Hardly the description for anyone associated with some kind of nefarious real estate deal, but you never know. Looks can be deceiving.

  “Your burger,” Arlene says, plopping a plate loaded with sweet potato fries and Seb’s juicy signature burger on the counter in front of me. Seb is married to Arlene and the cook and part owner of the diner. They’re also my landlords.

  “Thanks.” I lift my eyes to smile at her.

  I don’t hesitate to dig in, starving, which pretty much is a constant state for me. Wicked fast metabolism or something, because I’ve always been able to eat whatever I want and none of it seems to stick. A healthy appetite. Maybe that’s why seeing the woman listlessly pick at a bowl of salad just seems wrong to me. My eyes are back on her reflection where I can see her playing with her food, but not putting much of it in her mouth. She seems a little skittish, and when the door to the diner opens, her head whips around to see who’s entered. I resist the urge to turn my head to see and keep focus trained on her.

  “Hey stranger, how’s it going?” The familiar voice has me turn my head. Kendra, the pretty physical therapist who joined Doc Waters the end of last year in the new clinic, is smiling at me. I smile back easily. She’s a nice woman and since coming to town has fitted into our circle of friends easily. At some point I thought there might be something there, and we’d actually gone out a couple of times. After a movie in Cortez on our third date, I took our earlier, almost friendly kisses a step further when I dropped her off. The kiss fell flat. Where I thought there might have been sparks before, they fizzled out the moment my mouth hit hers. No heat, and fucking awkward as hell. Almost felt like kissing your sister. The kiss ended very quickly and Kendra could barely keep a straight face. We both burst out laughing, and the memory puts a smile on my face.

  “Hey yourself. You in for lunch?”

  “Just picking something up for Naomi and me. We’ve got solid appointments well into the evening. Ugh.”

  Naomi is Doc Waters, the new town doctor and also married to former sheriff, now colleague, Joe Morris. He and I are the latest additions to GFI, an investigations and security company owned and run by Gus Flemming.

  “You guys have really hit the ground running with the clinic, haven’t you?” Arlene pipes up, having heard Kendra’s comment.

  “Sure have. Makes you wonder where the population of Cedar Tree went before Naomi decided to open up shop here,” Kendra responds.

  “Most of us would go to Cortez, but it’s mighty convenient having you around the corner.” Arlene smiles. “What can I get you?”

  While Kendra places her order, I suddenly remember the focus of my earlier attention and lift my eyes to the backsplash. Nothing, the table little mouse was sitting at is empty. I turn on my stool to look to the parking lot where the little blue Honda I’ve seen her drive was parked. My eyes hit two soft brown ones staring at me through the diner window, before they turn away and I see her head duck down as she slips into her car. I’m up and off my stool by the time she backs out of the parking spot and have my eyes peeled when I see her turning west.

  “Be back. Add it to my tab,” I tell Arlene as I pass by her followed by a, “Later, Kendra,” and with a chin lift to Seb I’m through the kitchen and out the back door where my truck is parked.