Craving Heat
Page 1
Craving Heat
Steele Ridge: The Kingstons
Adrienne Giordano
Craving HEAT
Steele Ridge: The Kingstons Novel, Book 1
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Maggie Kingston is a woman working in a man’s world…and doing a damn good job. Being Steele Ridge’s first female sheriff isn’t easy. Especially when your cousins are magnets for trouble. The Steeles do everything the hard way, but Maggie’s tougher than she looks. Nothing shakes this sheriff until her cousin brings one of his superstar players—and the accompanying media circus—to town. The press can’t get enough of the sexy quarterback. And neither can Maggie…
Jayson Tucker devoted his whole career to the New York Knights. So when the team takes a rookie’s side over his after a locker room brawl, he takes refuge from the spotlight. Except reporters aren’t the only ones after him. Someone wants Jayson benched. Permanently. When the threat becomes deadly, hiding won’t be enough. And in Steele Ridge, security comes in the luscious form of its gorgeous, no-nonsense sheriff.
Jayson’s always fought his own battles. The closer he gets to Maggie, the less he’s willing to risk her being caught in the crossfire. Yet Maggie is no damsel in distress. She’s more than capable of keeping her town—and her man—safe. But can she say the same about her heart?
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Published by Steele Ridge, LLC
Steele Ridge Characters
The Steeles
Britt Steele - The oldest and most responsible Steele sibling. Manages the Steele-Shepherd Wildlife Research Center.
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Miranda “Randi” Shepherd - Love interest of Britt Steele. Owner of the Triple B restaurant, bar and coffee shop.
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Grif Steele - Steele sibling. Works as a sports agent and Steele Ridge’s city manager.
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Carlie Beth Parrish - Steele Ridge’s only blacksmith, and Grif Steele’s love interest.
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Reid Steele - Steele sibling. Former Green Beret and head of Steele Ridge Training Academy.
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Brynne Whitfield - Owner of La Belle Style boutique in Steele Ridge and love interest of Reid Steele.
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Mikayla “Micki” Steele - Steele sibling and Jonah’s twin. Master hacker.
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Gage Barber - Injured Green Beret and Reid Steele’s close friend who comes to Steele Ridge to help run the training center. Love interest of Micki Steele.
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Jonah Steele - Steele sibling and Micki’s twin. Video game mogul and former owner of the billion-dollar company, Steele Trap. Responsible for saving the town of Steele Ridge, formerly known as Canyon Ridge.
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Tessa Martin - Former in-house psychologist at Steele Trap. Jonah’s love interest.
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Evie Steele - Youngest Steele sibling. Travel nurse.
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Derek “Deke” Conrad - Commander of SONR (Special Operations for Natural Resources) group and love interest of Evie Steele.
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Joan Steele - Mother of the six Steele siblings.
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Eddy Steele - Father of the six Steele siblings.
Contents
Steele Ridge Characters
Steele Ridge: The Kingstons
Steele Ridge: The Steeles
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Tasting FIRE
Discover More Steele Ridge
Also by Adrienne Giordano
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Steele Ridge: The Kingstons
Craving HEAT, Book 1
Tasting FIRE, Book 2 (September 2018)
Searing NEED, Book 3 (October 2018)
Striking EDGE, Book 4 (Coming 2019)
Burning ACHE, Book 5 (Coming 2019)
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Steele Ridge: The Steeles
The BEGINNING, A Novella, Book 1
Going HARD, Book 2
Living FAST, Book 3
Loving DEEP, Book 4
Breaking FREE, Book 5
Roaming WILD, Book 6
Stripping BARE, Book 7
Enduring LOVE, A Novella, Book 8
1
“You cannot be serious.”
Jayson slid a sideways glance at his agent and his rare use of a condescending tone. During negotiations, Grif generally voiced his opinions in a direct, unquestioning manner. Something Jay admired in the man. Never a runaround. Only truth. Reality as seen by Grif Steele.
This reality sucked.
Big-time.
Sitting across from Jay at the oversized conference table, Drew Chandler wouldn’t—or couldn’t—meet his eye. The hand-painted Knights logo on the wall behind Jay monopolized his attention.
The guy always was a spineless weasel and this episode proved it. When wrecking a man’s life, the least he could do was look that man in the eye.
“I assure you,” Drew said, “we’re very serious.”
Not I. We. As in an entire organization. One that Jayson had spent the whole of his professional football career representing.
All those years and this is what he got?
Beside Drew, Eli Paskins, the team’s major shareholder, held up both hands.
The Knights held the distinction of being the United States Football Federation’s only publicly owned team and being the major shareholder, Eli participated in potentially high-impact decisions.
Like releasing a franchise player.
One Paskins himself had recruited. His word was rule, but he also took the unenviable heat from shareholders when profits were down.
Over the years, Jay had assisted Eli in any number of team-related activities. Everything from player issues to press briefings to charity events, Jayson Tucker, superstar quarterback, had been right there, stumping for his team, letting everyone know the Knights were the team to watch.
“Gentlemen, please,” Eli said.
Grif huffed out a breath, his frustration with the proceedings evident.
“Grif,” Drew said, “you’ve put the screws to me for years. Don’t play like you’re horrified.”
“I may have put the screws to you, but I’m not playing. I am horrified.”
At certain times, Jay didn’t mind his agent speaking for him. Right now? No way. He’d spent years leading this team, on and off the field, getting his head beat in and maintaining a cool under fire image under a brutal spotlight, and the front office wanted him gone. Fast.
A knife slice ripped at him. His career.
Over.
Everything. Gone, gone, gone.
Before he’d experienced a championship.
And that pissed Jay off.
Grif leaned in, ready to launch into an argument, but Jay gave him a backhanded flick on the arm. “Don’t bother.” He faced Drew and Paskins again, his direct glare leveled on Drew. He’d deal with Paskins,
his friend, in a minute. “You’re releasing me after everything I’ve done for this team—all the dog and pony shows, keeping your locker room in check, which hell, that’s no picnic, and oh, right, grooming that pain in the ass rookie quarterback for my job. And you’re not asking for my side of this thing. What the fuck does that say?”
“Tuck,” Paskins said, “take it easy.”
Tuck, my ass.
From the second Jay had walked in here, it had been all formal use of his name. Now, with him getting, as Paskins liked to say, a little hot, his boss wanted to knock the edge off things by using Jay’s nickname.
Jay wasn’t having it. Not for a second. Not for the tiniest fucking tenth of a second.
“You’re destroying my career and reputation. We’re not talking just football. There are endorsements, too. This is my goddamned livelihood. Why the hell would I take it easy?”
Paskins’s dark eyebrows hitched up and his mouth hung open, expressing the fake revulsion he wanted Jay to buy.
Finally, he forced a choppy breath. “I’m destroying your career. I gave you your first big-league contract. And when that contract was up, I made you the highest-paid quarterback in the league. When have I not supported you?”
Uh, how about now? “Check your calendar. It’s Tuesday. The press has been dogging me since Sunday night and management has shown zero support. Aside from long-standing teammates, there’s been radio silence from an organization I’ve spent fifteen years pimping myself out for. Am I the highest-paid quarterback? You bet. I earn every cent.”
“He’s right,” Grif said, “you know this is crap. If you release him, I’ll find a way to sue you. Count on it.”
Drew ignored Grif’s threat, and for the first time, looked at Jayson. Dead on. “You attacked a player. In a locker room full of reporters. He’s a first-round draft pick. How do I defend that?”
Fighting to keep his temper in check—and avoid saying something stupid—Jay drove his heel into the carpet. After two days of his superiors failing him, he was smart enough to not take a chance on them leaking the events of this meeting to the press. Lifting one hip, he reached into his pocket for his phone and retrieved the video he’d watched at least a hundred times. “You tell the truth,” he said. “Say you benched Eric Webb, your golden boy rookie quarterback, and he retaliated by nearly having my head knocked off.” He tossed the phone on the table. “Take a look. Real close. That’s Rajae Evans and his illegal hit that could have paralyzed me, and all the guy gets is a one-game suspension. And Golden Boy, a guy I’ve put more man-hours into than I can count, set me up.”
“You don’t know that,” Drew said.
“The hell I don’t. Evans was Golden Boy’s college roommate. You think that’s a coincidence?”
Jay pulled air through his nose, forced himself to breathe and settle his thumping heart. Retreating to the logo behind Jay, Drew broke eye contact. Of course he did.
Time to deal with his friend. Jay shifted to Paskins. “We’ve shared meals. You’ve asked me for favors. Did you even look into it? Maybe do an investigation to see if the Golden Boy and Rajae had a phone conversation on Saturday? Before they tried to end my career. Or don’t you care?”
Never one to shy away from an argument, Paskins leaned in. “Making an accusation like that won’t help your career.”
After this fuck-fest, did he even want to be in this league? “What I did was wrong. I’ll own that. But I wasn’t alone in it.”
Paskins shook his head. “Webb is threatening to press charges. You should be thanking me for keeping you out of jail. He may sue you yet.”
“Let him. I’ll call every reporter I know—and that’s a busload—and tell them what he tried to do to me. Maybe you should have thought of that before you decided I was the dispensable one.” Jay stood. “But you didn’t. You let the press think I’d lost my mind and randomly attacked my teammate. Thanks for the loyalty, boys.”
Unfuckingbelievable. He had to get out. Remove himself from the toxicity before he gave them more ammunition to use in the destruction of his marketability.
“Wait,” Grif said, obviously intending to try and save Jay’s job.
“No.” Jay stood. “I’m done. After what I’ve done for this organization, this is how they treat me? Bullshit. I won’t play for people who refuse to protect their players. The right players, anyway.”
Jaw locked, Jay strode from the conference room. He’d attended endless mind-numbing meetings here with team executives and now they were throwing him out.
Betrayal. A vicious bitch.
He kept moving, past Veronica and Sally who, unlike Drew, met his eye. They both shook their heads. Two admins understood the insanity, but the team’s president couldn’t. Or wouldn’t. Either way, it stunk.
“Tuck,” Grif said, hustling to keep up as Jayson pushed through the doors leading out of the executive suite. “Let me talk to Paskins privately.”
Paskins. A guy Jay had hoped would find him a front office job once he retired. “Don’t bother,” he said. “Drew doesn’t take a shit without asking Paskins. If he wasn’t on board with this decision, that meeting wouldn’t have happened.”
Jay got to the elevator and tapped the button. “Even if you talked them into letting me stay, how’s that gonna work? We’ll have chaos in the locker room and I’ll feel like the charity case they kept on. After this shit show, nothing good will come of me staying.”
The elevator doors slid open and they stepped on. Grif already had his phone out. “We’ll need spin control. Let’s get your PR people to put out a press release. Keep it short and sweet. Due to recent incidents, you’re leaving the team, yada, yada. We’ll beat them to the media, then give it a week. By the time I get you a new team, everyone will know you got screwed. For now, lie low. We’ll make a statement and tuck you away somewhere.”
His agent. Always working the angles. “Are you handling me, Grif?”
Grif met his eye. “If it keeps your head on straight, you know it. It’s the middle of the season and there are three teams needing leadership to get them to the playoffs. You focus on football, I’ll do the rest.”
Lying low. Not a bad idea if he intended on salvaging his career. He’d hunker down, hit the gym, and get his mind right about his future. The elevator came to a stop, the doors sliding open, and Jay held the door for Grif. “I’ll find a private place to work out. It’ll be fine.”
Grif stepped into the cavernous lobby of the New York Knights headquarters and Jay followed, the heels of his dress shoes clapping against the marble. He’d heard that sound thousands of times, each a mundane occurrence. One of the comforting sounds of a secure existence.
Not this time.
He fought the punch to his chest, reeled in the spurting anger and sadness. He’d had a plan for ending his career. The generous leader going out on top while helping his team stay competitive. Now he had…nothing.
Before stepping outside, Grif turned to him, one hand on the door. “Come to Steele Ridge. It’ll be quiet there and we have the facilities to keep you out of the public eye. You can work out with my brother. Reid is an animal. If you can put up with his arrogance and constant mouthing off, he’d love to beat the crap out of you for a few weeks.”
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Vacation: T minus five days, ten hours, and forty-two minutes.
Maggie brought her cruiser to a stop on Main Street right behind Mrs. Royce’s parked and extremely ancient Lincoln. The land yacht. How the woman navigated the streets of Steele Ridge in that thing was still a mystery. On the sidewalk, Mrs. Royce and Mr. Greene, quite possibly the town’s oldest resident, squared off.
Right in front of the Triple B where folks streamed in for a quick breakfast and the best damned coffee in three counties.
To think the day had started off so well, with Maggie gaining a whole second on Reid’s obstacle course record. If she shaved two measly seconds off her time, she’d beat her much bigger and stronger cousin.
And never let him forget it.
That damned high wall. Of all the obstacles, that one slowed her down the most. She had to figure out how to get over that thing faster.
Later.
Right now, she had a geriatric smackdown to break up and joined the Old Folk’s Brigade on the sidewalk.
Ignoring Maggie, Mr. Greene banged his cane on the sidewalk as he jabbed his free hand’s gnarly index finger at Mrs. Royce. “Now listen, you old bat, you know I’ve been parking in that dang spot for…for…Well, hell, since Randi opened her doors.”