Raven & Ice, Chapter One
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We’re two weeks from the release of Raven & Ice. You know what that means? It’s time to share the first chapter. But first, here’s what some early readers have said…
“So many emotions, and what a rollercoaster!”
“My cheeks hurt from smiling so hard. This book is so perfect!”
“Bodhi & Mia just might be my favorite couple.”
A slow burn, forced proximity romance, this novel, the final in a four-part series,
returns you to Seaside Pointe and the characters and town you’ve fallen in love with.
Releasing: October 14, 2021
Preorder Amazon US or UK OR paperback available NOW: Buy HERE!
Add to your Goodreads TBR: HERE
Bodhi
Humans most often carry out their sins during the dead of night. As if the anonymity of shadows conceal the depravity of one’s soul. I’ve witnessed corruption too many times to count. The man with the lily-white reputation sheds his saintly skin and succumbs to his vice. The desperate who surrender all once they reach their breaking point. And the ignorant who turn their heads, falsely believing the absence of daylight absolves them.
Absolution.
I seek it daily. Not for the things I’ve done, but for the things I know, the things I haven’t done. The sins I have no chance of stopping.
Reaching for the radio, I crank a rock station in hope of expelling the somber bend of my thoughts as I exit I-20 approaching Bay View and Kip’s condo. Turning into his complex, I glance left as I travel the road running perpendicular to the bay. The same early fall gusts that pushed my SUV around on the interstate skate across the water, whipping up ripples that dance in the moonlight.
What I wouldn’t give to have a boat out there tonight.
Parking, I grab my bag and pull up the code for Kip’s entrance on my cell before making my way up the stairs and down the long hallway to his door. I tap a warning with my fingertips before slipping the key he gave me months ago into the lock.
“Hey, man.” Kip drags me in for a hug before I’m fully inside like he’s paced the foyer awaiting my arrival. I slap his back and squeeze his shoulder, sensing the anxiety wafting off my best friend.
“Hey,” I keep my voice low, glancing around the condo. “Chloe here?”
Scrubbing his hand over his mussed hair, Kip locks the door at my back, and I drop my duffle to the floor and walk further inside. “She’s in bed. We spent hours with the police at the farm, then went to the hospital. She still has to work in the morning, you know?”
As much as I’d like to pretend this is a social call, I know Kip won’t settle until we talk about what happened with Mia. I don’t have to ask how she’s doing. He shot me a message an hour ago, letting me know her scans were clear and they were keeping her overnight for observation. Instead, I step into the role he summoned me for as I move toward the couch. “What did the police say?”
“There’s no evidence.” Kip sinks to the edge of the armchair perpendicular to the seat I take on his couch. “Nothing useful, anyway. Lockwood’s is a busy flower farm. Too many employees and elements to make finding some DNA clue a possibility. I don’t know.” His fingers flex and unflex as he massages his thumb across the palm of his hand.
“Hey.” I lean forward, dipping my head to pull Kip’s frustrated gaze. “Why don’t you fill me in on what happened? You said Reid and Grace found her?”
With a wrinkled brow, Kip slumps low in his seat. “Yeah, about that. They’re together. I know you said you weren’t interested, but I wanted to give you the heads up. It’s new.”
If ever I considered second-guessing not pursuing a relationship with Grace Embry, my lack of negative emotions at hearing she’s involved with Reid validates me. “It’s all good. She’s a great girl, but there was nothing romantically inclined there.”
“Figured as much.” Kip grunts, his tired eyes studying me like a man adept at reading me—because he is. Kip and Hayden understand better than anyone where my head is regarding relationships. I’m not exactly in the I-don’t-deserve-happiness spot Hayden was before Brynn, nor am I in the make-my-childhood-crush-fall-for-me box Kip was when he returned to Seaside Pointe. Nah, I’m in a the-world-is-too-screwed-up-to-settle-into-everlasting-love place. And maybe I’m a bit screwed up, too.
I grunt as his attention lingers. “Dude, you’re looking at me like you can’t wait to prove me wrong.”
“Not about Gracie Lou, but in general? Yeah, I can’t wait to see you eat that vow we made those years ago at OU.”
“Just because you and Hayd caved doesn’t mean I will. I can’t imagine being me and trying to love a woman.” Kip’s lips twist and I lift my hand. “Don’t bother with the pep talk. I don’t mean me personally, I mean my job. This lifestyle. You guys will have to live with the fact that I’ll forever be the sexy playboy to your family man personas.”
“Sexy family man personas,” Kip corrects, a weak smile finally appearing. “Speaking of your job, you wanna tell me what’s up? How long are you on leave?”
I wave off the question. “You know damn well Hayd’s going to want to know the details. Let’s talk about why you called me here, and I’ll tell you about this last mission when he’s around.”
Even though it’s close to one in the morning, we sit back and he fills me in on the past year’s events. Events he’s, for the most part, kept from Chloe.
“The issue with Joseph Sullivan is he was cut off by his father. By all accounts, the man is successful. He should draw a pretty hefty commission on his own, but I guess he was siphoning funds for a more extravagant lifestyle from the family estate.”
Sullivan is lucky his father didn’t turn him in. Kip mentioned the ordeal last year, but the guy was nothing more than a blip in his relationship woes with Sunshine at the time. To think there could be more. I’m skeptical. “The types of retaliation you suspect are extreme, though. Especially for a middle-aged man with a successful company of his own.”
“Are they extreme measures for someone who was disinherited?” Kip counters. I can’t say he doesn’t have a point.
“Bodh, I don’t know who else would do the things that have been done. Sure, the vandalism at my centers could be punks, but messing with the delivery van or hurting Mia?” Kip rubs his eyes. “Joseph had no reason to hate Chlo for getting a hold of the land, but because I went to his dad, he was caught. He threatened Chlo and me a few weeks ago. Two days before Reid’s accident, actually.”
Okay, so the timing is certainly suspect. “And the police got nothing when they spoke with him?” Kip’s frown confirms that’s a negative. “But why Mia?”
“The only answer we’ve come up with is he wanted to send a message. I doubt he even knew who he was attacking. Mia never heard him coming.”
Send a message for what? The sale to Chloe was a year ago. What does the man hope to gain? Covering a yawn, I shift toward standing. “I thought you said Mia went back to Georgia after the wedding.”
“She did.” Taking my cue, Kips slides to the edge of his seat. “She’d just flown back home Monday night. It was a surprise to us all considering she’s supposed to be in school.”
“What was she doing at Lockwood’s?”
“She was there to visit Reid.”
The gears in my mind commence spinning. Mia returns home unannounced and gets knocked out by an unknown assailant the following day?
“Did anyone know she’d be there?”
“Not that I know of. She told Cee.” He shakes his head. “Sorry, Carrie-Ann, and that was it.”
Why would a man with a grudge against Kip attack Mia? Were they coming after Reid again since the Lockwood Blooms van accident didn’t do the trick? Or James, maybe? Go after the heart of Lockwood Blooms? Did Mia happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time? And more importantly—my brain prods despite my desire to remain impartial—why did that gorgeous little Thumbelina head out to see Reid Pruitt within her first twenty-four hours of returning to Seaside Pointe?
Mia
Irony. Might as well be the definition of my life. Finding answers three months too late. Then returning home, to my safe haven, just to be bashed upside the head with a gardening tool—or whatever the hell I was hit with—next to the hollyhock patch. Who assaults someone in a place of such serenity?
I wish I could remember details, anything really. But since I was hit from behind, I doubt I even saw my attacker coming. And my not knowing if I saw them really freaks me out.
Mom remains silent beside me as we drive home from the hospital, but I know she’s not silent for lack of things to say. With how sensitive I am to any sound at the moment, she’s choosing to keep her thoughts to herself, though her eyes tell all. She’s brimming with concern and outrage and confusion. Why me? I’d like to know, too. Why was I targeted? Did I piss someone off on the farm for bailing in June? Everyone I worked with seemed decent enough, but you never know with some people.
I close my eyes behind Mom’s sunglasses, having left mine in my car, the mid-morning sun blares through the windshield. Where’s my beloved cloud cover when I need the shade? With this headache from hell, I can’t focus on anything but enduring. I just want to go to bed. Last night, I got very little sleep with the nurses and doctors coming in what felt like every five minutes to monitor me and my concussion. And judging by the shadows beneath her eyes, Mom didn’t get much either.
Pulling into our driveway, she presses the garage door opener, easing the car inside. Blessed, blessed darkness.
“Wait here.” She touches my arm. “I’m going to help you into the house.”
I unbuckle my seatbelt. “Mom, I’m not an invalid.”
It takes me way too long to form my response. This freaking concussion. She shuts the driver’s side door before I can dislodge the last word. If the CT scans hadn’t shown my brain is fine, I’d question if I’m going brain dead.
As Mom helps me out of the passenger seat, she loops her arm around my waist. I don’t resist considering it’s futile. I don’t have the energy to fight a losing battle.
“I’m going to get you set up on the couch so I can keep an eye on you.” She walks me to the living room.
“I can’t even lay in my bed?” Come on.
“Not. Yet. I want you out here with me.”
“What about work?”
“My baby girl was attacked last night. Denton wouldn’t let me go in even if I wanted to.”
Unsurprising. “Mom, I’m okay. You mentioned how busy you were on the phone the other day. I don’t want you stressing more than you already are and getting behind on all your paperwork. I’ve worked there before. I know how things pile up.”
“And who would be around to take care of you?”
I groan as I lower onto the couch, rubbing the back of my neck. It’s killing me even with the pain relievers. I didn’t want to take anything too strong, but I’m regretting that decision.
“Myself.”
“Sorry. No can do, dolly. You heard Dr. Brighton. At least for the next couple of days, I’m not letting you out of my sight. We have to make sure your symptoms don’t worsen.”
Whatever. I’m not going to argue anymore. If she lets me lay down, I’ll let her wait on me hand and foot for the next eternity.
And I hear what she’s not saying. She’s sticking around in case whoever did this to me comes to finish the job. A shudder runs through me. Did we lock the door?
“Are you cold?” Mom walks toward the hallway closet. “Let me go get a sheet and blanket. I’ll get the couch all made up.”
Resting my head against the back, I remove the sunglasses and set them on the side table. Our house isn’t blindingly bright, but I could do with less light. I get up and cross the room to close the curtains, but Mom returns tsking. “As much as I’m sure you want to bask in the dark, it’s not happening. Dr. Brighton said relative rest, not lull yourself into a light coma. You can get some sleep, but I’m still supposed to wake you often, so don’t get too comfortable.”
“You’re killing me, woman.”
And there’s the Mom Look. Unimpressed, irked. Mouth pursed, eyes slanted. “I could have lost you last night, Mia. You’re all I have. If my hovering is bothering you, tough.”
I offer a surrendering nod. I’m not sure she knows how true that statement is.
Getting to my feet, I help her drape the sheet over the couch and tuck the thin material around the suede cushions before settling in for what I hope is a nap. As she fans a blanket over me, a knock echoes throughout our rambler.
“Oh, that must be Kip. He texted me earlier and mentioned he was going to stop by to check in on you.”
I might not have a crush on Kip anymore, but that doesn’t mean I want to look like death warmed over when he sees me. The nurses washed the blood from the gash in my head, but they didn’t wash my hair. The long strands are snarled and greasy and trapped under this bandage. My makeup is probably worn off and smudged. She could’ve at least warned me, so I could’ve showered as soon as we got home.
Pulling the blanket back, I shift my feet to the carpet.
Mom points at me as she walks out of the living room. “You stay put.”
“Mom, let me at least wash my face. I have no idea what I look like.”
Over her shoulder she says, “You look the way a person would after being attacked less than fifteen hours ago. He’s not going to care. Stay.”
The front door is out of my view, located around the corner and down a short hallway, but it’s not so far away that when Mom answers the door, I can’t hear anything. Their voices are quiet, but Kip’s unmistakable timber asks Mom how she’s doing. Her response must be whispered into his chest from a hug because it’s muffled. I twist my ring around my middle finger, anxiety pressing in. I hate how upset she is.
As they draw closer another deeper voice tells her it’s good to see her again. Two male voices. Two? One I recognize, but the other…
Three people round the corner into the living room, my eyes bouncing from one to the next before landing on the unfamiliar voice.
Bodhi Lawson.
He was in a gray suit the last time I saw him, but jeans and a black henley in no way lessen his magnetic appeal. His icy gray eyes against his olive skin and sinewy frame overtake the room. While he’s a few inches shorter than Kip, his muscle mass is twice the size. And Kip isn’t a scrawny man.
And I realize how vain and trivial it is to think, but why must this be how he sees me for the first time after Brynn and Hayden’s wedding? Can’t a girl catch a break?
When our eyes meet, his enticingly lush lips tug into a calming smile, and a sense of tranquility settles over the room, banishing my frivolous concerns.