Stripping Bare (Steele Ridge Book 7)

by Kelsey Browning

  “Uh-uh.” She pushed him away from her breast, nipple gleaming and pointing. It needed his attention. Immediately.

  “Maybe the three stooges will go away.”

  Tessa’s supremely kissable lips twisted wryly. “You really think so?”

  “Fuck,” he sighed. “Not really.”

  “Then maybe you should go down and fill them in while I put myself together.” Tessa patted her wild hair. “I just need a few minutes to get in the shower and tame this.”

  He picked up her hand and pressed a kiss to it. “Tessa, I want you to remember something. Put together or not, you are perfect.”

  With every minute he spent with her, he was beginning to believe she was perfect for him.

  Tessa didn’t dawdle in the bathroom, did a quick splash and dry, then twisted her hair up into something she hoped looked respectable. She pulled on a pair of wool pants, a white shirt, a cashmere blazer, and loafers. But when she and Badger hurried down the staircase to the main level, she knew something was wrong. Four men together were never this quiet. Maybe they were in Jonah’s tech cave.

  She gave them the benefit of the doubt until she opened the door and found the room soundless except for the hum of the arsenal of computer equipment. Damn him. She’d made it perfectly clear that she wouldn’t play powerless princess to his rescuing prince.

  She checked the garage for his Tesla. Still there. Then she looked for a car out front. Nothing.

  Which meant Jonah and his brothers were gone.

  On the security panel near the front door, he’d left a hastily scrawled Post-It. Brothers demanding answers. Back soon. Sit tight. J-

  Sit tight? He was out of his mind. Without debating the wisdom of what she was about to do, she ran back upstairs to grab her phone. As she had last night, she PMed Brynne.

  Tessa: Would you happen to know where the Steele men are?

  Brynne: Last I heard, they were headed up to Jonah’s. Haven’t you seen them?

  Did she see them? Not exactly. But how could she tell Brynne that her husband had seen her head to toe?

  Tessa: They stopped by. I hopped in the shower and when I came out, they were gone.

  Brynne: Reid was pissy last night. I had to watch him pace and cuss for half an hour.

  Tessa: I’m really sorry about that.

  Brynne: LOL. It happens at least once a week. That’s just Reid. But when the guys get mad at one another, they tend to settle it with guns.

  Tessa’s throat twisted.

  Tessa: What?

  Brynne: Yeah, they’ve got a bunch of old toys they apparently started out playing with, but now they’ve moved on to big-boy paintball guns.

  The tight feeling in Tessa’s throat eased a little.

  Tessa: Do you know where I could find them?

  Brynne: Tell you what, drive to Miss Joan’s house and we’ll go find them together.

  Tessa: Which is where?

  Brynne: White farmhouse down the road. You passed it on the way to Jonah’s.

  Normally, she wouldn’t have minded what had to be a mile walk, but she hadn’t thought to bring tennis shoes on what was supposed to be a quick overnight stay.

  Tessa: I don’t have a car. Mine’s still in town.

  Brynne: Take one of Jonah’s. He won’t miss it. Keys are in the freezer. See you in ten.

  It went against Tessa’s grain to take someone’s possession without asking, but what choice did she have? She certainly wasn’t going to wait around for Jonah to mosey back home.

  She fed Badger, let him out to potty, and then kenneled him. Much to his annoyance. He gave her a doggy huff and turned so his little butt was pressed against the metal door, a sure sign he was pissed at her.

  Back in the kitchen, she shoved aside a package of steaks in the freezer and spotted a plastic baggie that held keys. Honest to goodness old-fashioned keys rather than modern key fobs.

  In Jonah’s garage, she studied his toys with a closer eye. They sure ran the gamut. A shiny blue truck with wooden sideboards that seemed like something a hip organic farmer would drive. A silver Mercedes with the gull-wing doors. A little white Fiat convertible that looked as if it still needed some TLC. The Tesla. And an orange car sporting a spoiler taller than the roof panel. It had the back-end of a roadrunner and the sleek, sloping front-end of a shark.

  Oh, yeah. She wanted that one.

  She dug through the bag of keys and pulled out one for a Plymouth. A small pang of guilt shimmied through her when she slid into the black leather driver’s seat. But when she pushed the button on the visor to raise the garage door and cranked the car, that pang was drowned out by the sound of the engine rumbling.

  She shivered at the vibrations shimmying through the metal and into her seat, reawakening all the nerve endings Jonah had turned on last night. What would he say if she suggested a make-out session in his car?

  It would be fun to do something so carefree and youthful. Normal. Something she’d never done as a teenager.

  The road from Jonah’s house to his mom’s was too curvy for Tessa to push the car. It reminded her of making love with Jonah—a lot of restrained power in a sleek package. But all it took was the right touch to turn potential into reality.

  Last night, he’d been cautious, resistant at first. But when she’d finally convinced him to stop being careful… Whew. That had been brain-bending. She had light burn marks on her knees. Marks she wouldn’t show Jonah for fear he’d see them and feel guilty.

  He was so sure he would hurt her that he wasn’t willing to reveal himself and his true desires. His true wants.

  His true needs.

  And if he wasn’t willing to share those things with her, their relationship would come to a standstill. Because she wasn’t willing to settle for anything besides the truth.

  And Tessa’s truth was that she wanted Jonah like he’d been last night. But even more out of control. Completely out of control.

  And probably not what she should be thinking about when she was about to meet his mom for the first time. She pulled into the drive in front of the white farmhouse. Cheerful Adirondack chairs were scattered along the deep porch. Holiday greenery was looped around the porch rails, and two potted evergreens flanked a front door decorated with a wreath made of magnolia leaves and red ribbon.

  She’d barely knocked when the door was pulled open to reveal a small woman with short silver-shot hair and a welcoming smile that emphasized the laugh lines around her eyes. “You must be Tessa.”

  How had she known?

  “I know all kinds of things about my kids they don’t know I know.” She waved Tessa into the farmhouse and led her toward the kitchen. “Then I have insurance when I need it.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Steele.”

  “Call me Miss Joan. Everyone else does.”

  “I’m sorry to just barge in, but I’m looking for Jonah and—”

  “Brynne called to tell me to expect you. Give her a few minutes and she should be here. Would you like a cup of pecan coffee and some breakfast while you wait?”

  “I wouldn’t want to be any trouble.” What she wanted was to find Jonah and line up their next move against the hacker, but Tessa’s stomach folded into a hunger cramp at the mention of food. And thanks to the delicious, nutty scent coming from the welcoming kitchen, she’d break her I-don’t-drink-much-coffee rule.

  “You can’t be more trouble than one of my own kids,” Miss Joan said, her voice full of love and pride. “Stubborn and strong-minded, the lot of them.”

  “They’re lucky to have you.” Talking with her and smelling the scent of a real home made Tessa long to see her own parents. She’d lived on the other coast for so many years that it didn’t faze them if she only called once every couple of weeks. But since someone had breached her files and started playing head games with Jonah and her a few days ago, she hadn’t spoken with her mom and dad at all.

  Miss Joan pulled out a chair at the expansive wood and metal farm table an
d bustled over to the counter. “Sit and I’ll fix it for you.”

  Having Jonah’s mother treat her like a family friend unnerved Tessa. “You don’t know me from Adam.”

  She turned back to meet Tessa’s gaze. “Sweetheart”—both her eyes and tone held sympathy—“I probably know more about you than you wish I did, what with all that trouble Micki was in last year.”

  “If I’d known sooner about her boss’s threats, I would’ve—”

  “Of course you would have.” With a wave, Miss Joan turned back to the coffeepot. “I know who your people are, what kind of girl you are.”

  It seemed Tessa was at quite a disadvantage here. Would Jonah’s family ever stop catching her with her pants down… Don’t think about that.

  A mug of delicious-smelling coffee, cream, and sugar seemed to materialize in front of Tessa. She stirred in a little cream and had taken her first sip when Miss Joan said, “Reid told me you were something else.”

  Coffee backed up mid-swallow and tried to make a detour up Tessa’s nose. She coughed, covering her mouth and nose with a napkin. When she had herself more or less under control, she croaked out, “Reid?”

  With a grimace, Miss Joan propped a hand on one hip. “Sorry, but we’re a nosy family. He looked into you quite a bit last year.”

  Thank. The. Lord. Jonah’s older brother hadn’t spilled the beans to his mom that he’d caught her naked in Jonah’s bed this morning.

  “Gave me the background on your family and what you’ve made of your life since…since…”

  “The rapes.”

  This time, Miss Joan was the one to swallow, and her eyes filled. “Tessa, I know you may not feel totally comfortable with this, but would you let me give you a hug?”

  Although she was unbalanced by the request, Tessa stood and Miss Joan hurried over to wrap her in her arms. It wasn’t a quick squeeze. She gave Tessa a loving mom’s I-can-hold-you-together hug, one that made you feel as if the chipped and jagged pieces were being glued back together. Tessa knew them well because her mom had given them so many times, especially in the first few years after the rapes.

  Tessa returned the hug and they were still standing there, rocking right and left, when Brynne walked in. “I see you two are already fast friends,” she said with a sweet smile. Today, she was dressed in black skinny pants tucked into brown wedge boots and a sweater that sparkled gold, silver, and bronze in the kitchen light.

  Miss Joan finally released Tessa, but gave her a soft pat on the cheek. “Sweetheart, you will do. You will do very well.”

  Tessa wasn’t completely sure what she meant, but Miss Joan’s oblique approval warmed her inside.

  “Are the guys already at it?” Brynne asked Miss Joan.

  “Oh, mercy yes. They stormed in here like a bunch of hooligans, grabbed go-cups of coffee, and loaded up the back of Reid’s truck with paintball paraphernalia from the barn.”

  “So they play war games on a regular basis?” Tessa asked. That wasn’t particularly convenient this morning, when she and Jonah needed to talk through everything that had happened the past few days.

  Brynne and Miss Joan exchanged a look that was half affection and half exasperation. “Apparently,” Brynne said, “you can take the man out of the mountains, but you can’t take the mountain out of the man.”

  “They tend to go off and shoot at each other when one of them has a problem to work out,” Miss Joan added. “Women are civilized. We have a cup of coffee and talk. Men need to burn off some of that intense emotion before they’re able to have a sensible conversation about anything.”

  Didn’t anyone besides Tessa realize Jonah beat himself up for his own intense feelings and desires?

  She turned at the sound of a door opening and closing, and a few seconds later, a woman walked in who could only be one person. Jonah’s twin. Micki was tall and lean like Jonah and her eyes were that same shrewd hazel that missed nothing around her. The Micki avatar the hacker had added to Jonah’s game was right on the money.

  “I heard there’s a paintball game,” Micki said.

  “They’re already out in the woods.”

  “Those jackasses went without me,” Micki fumed. Then, with a sheepish look, she said to her mom, “Sorry about the language.”

  “If I worked myself up into a tizzy every time one of you said a bad word, I’d be spun up like the Tasmanian Devil all the time.”

  That’s when Micki seemed to realize Tessa was standing there. “Oh, hey. You’re—”

  “—Tessa. It’s nice to finally meet you.” And it was a true first meeting, since Tessa didn’t remember much about the last and only time they’d seen one another.

  She held out her hand, but Micki completely bypassed it and grabbed her in a fierce hug. Wow, apparently the Steeles were huggers. And for such a thin woman, Micki sure was strong. Her tone was just as fierce when she said, “Thank you. I wanted to call you myself, but Jonah told me it might stir up things better left alone. But I want you to know not a day goes by that I’m not grateful for what you did for us last year.”

  “And I’m just as grateful for both of you.”

  “Enough said, then.” Micki blew out a breath and released her. She looked Tessa up and down, then nodded—a slow, thoughtful motion. “You know how to shoot a rifle?”

  Ah…what? Tessa blinked. “It’s been awhile, but—”

  “Good, because not only does Brynne here dress for the runway instead of the battlefield, but she’s also a pacifist. However, she is good for carrying ammo.” Micki sauntered over to the coffeepot and poured some into a thermal cup. “Ladies, let’s adjourn to the barn.”

  Before Micki could make for the back door, Miss Joan pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Don’t hurt them too badly, okay?”

  Micki’s grin was pure wicked intent. “They’ll all come back alive. That’s all I can promise you.”

  Miss Joan heaved a dramatic sigh, but it was clear by the sparkle in her eyes that she enjoyed her grown kids’ shenanigans. What an intriguing family they were. If Tessa had known that when she was doing her graduate work, she might’ve used them for a case study. The dynamics were multifaceted and downright fascinating.

  And whether or not she realized it, by inviting her to play paintball with them, Micki had thrown out a challenge Tessa couldn’t resist. Time to unleash a little kick-ass girl power. She would track down Jonah and shoot a paintball right between his eyes so they could get back to their search.

  She glanced down at her loafers. “Don’t guess you’d happen to have an extra pair of sneakers, would you?”

  Miss Joan kicked off the Chuck Taylors she was wearing. “Size six work okay?”

  “They’ll be a little tight, but—”

  “Mom,” Micki said, “don’t expect them to come back clean.”

  Miss Joan’s response was a careless wave. “Tessa, how about you bring them back for a victory lap?”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Before Micki could drag them outside, her mother fixed go-cups for Brynne and Tessa, putting the perfect amount of cream in Tessa’s.

  Sharp, sharp lady.

  Tessa, Brynne, and Micki trooped out to the barn, and Brynne never missed a step in her tall boots.

  Micki hooked a thumb toward her. “She’s a marvel, isn’t she?”

  “Brynne or Miss Joan?”

  The laughter that came from Micki was low and genuinely amused. “Both, but for different reasons. I’ve never known a woman who could get as much done in a four-inch pair of heels as our Brynne can. And Mom, well, she’s the best. No other way to describe her.”

  After Micki had been estranged from her family for so many years, it appeared she was now happy and whole.

  Then why was Jonah still fighting to do the same?

  Inside the barn, Micki rummaged through a rack of paint-splattered coveralls. She pulled out a pair and held them next to Tessa, looking her up and down again. “The guys, Evie, and I all have our own custom gea
r, but we keep a few extra on hand for guests. This one’ll be a little long on you and with your bodacious rack, it might be a little tight across the chest.”

  Tessa eyed the heavyweight khaki canvas. She was going to strain that thing in the bust and butt. “Do I just put this on over my clothes?”

  “They’re thick,” Micki said, “but sometimes the paint still bleeds through.” She fingered the sleeve of Tessa’s jacket. “This doesn’t look like something you want ruined.”

  Lovely. She was about to get almost naked in front of Jonah’s sister and sister-in-law. No better way to get to know the family. She toed off her favorite pair of Stuart Weitzmans and dropped Miss Joan’s sneakers to the ground.

  Micki stripped down efficiently, revealing a sports bra and a pair of boy shorts emblazoned with the Captain America logo on the rear. She shrugged into her coveralls and zipped them up.

  Much as she might want to, Tessa refused to turn her back to change. She slipped off her blazer and slacks to hang them over a hook on the wall, then unbuttoned her shirt.

  Micki’s whistle echoed in the cavernous barn. “Holy shit, that is some underwear.”

  For once, Tessa wished she wore cotton bras and panties.

  With an avaricious gaze, Brynne sidled close to Tessa and held out her hand as if planning to check the tags. “Are those La Perla?”

  “No, they’re made by a small company in Atlanta. I…ah…they’re probably overkill, but…”

  “But they make you feel like a bazillion bucks,” Brynne said. “Don’t feel guilty for spoiling yourself. Those are decadent.”

  “Good going, Martin,” Micki said. “You’ve just given Brynne a panty-gasm.”

  “I won’t rest until I track down the manufacturer and convince them to let La Belle Style sell their merchandise.”

  Tessa tried to step into her coveralls but her foot became caught. She would’ve face-planted if Micki hadn’t grabbed her arm.

  “Bet our boy Jonah is a big fan of their wares, too.” Micki wore a half smile as if waiting for Tessa to confirm or deny.

  Nope. Not today.