Vowing Love Read online

  No clue.

  An existence without Brynne wasn’t a life. On any level.

  “Come on, Reid. Did you actually think I’d let her walk out of here?”

  “I don’t know. I’m trying to come up with something that’ll get us all out of here.”

  “Mac showing up will.”

  “He’s tried!” Brynne finally said.

  Rachael swung the gun up. “Shut up. I’m sick of you.”

  Whoa now. Reid set a hand on Brynne’s forearm and squeezed. Every time she spoke, Rachael pointed that weapon at her and he was about done with that.

  “Let’s all relax a second.” He checked the time on the wall clock. Nine fifty-seven.

  By now, the bridesmaids, including Maggie, should be at the house. And him without a visual. They needed windows in this damn room. If they got out of here, he was putting some in.

  For now, he reached for his phone. “I’ll try him again.”

  Rachael leaned over, watching to ensure he dialed Mac. The fucker.

  After the second ring, Reid knew it was useless. Still, he waited for Mac’s voicemail then hung up. Excellent.

  He pushed the phone away. “I guess we’ll wait.”

  “I guess we will.”

  Beep-beep.

  Front door alert. Shit.

  Beside him, Brynne flinched, her head whipping in his direction. Holy shit, someone had just walked in. Had to be Jonah or Gage, the only ones with keys and the code.

  Rachael’s face twisted, her cheeks hardening. And her eyes… Oh man, those suckers darkened. “That’s the door.” She pointed the gun at Brynne. “Get up.”

  Reid shot out of his chair. “Rachael—

  Voices sounded from the lobby.

  “The locker room,” Gage said, “is to the left. I’ll meet you on the course.”

  “Okay. Phin is toast. Telling you right now.”

  Cam’s voice. Gage had brought his Blackwell cousins to run the obstacle course. Goddamnit.

  Rachael’s energized panic charged the air, sending Reid’s nerves firing. She scrambled, cornering the table, and latching onto Brynne’s hair, yanking backward.

  “Ow!” Brynne yelped, swatting at Rachael’s arm.

  Rachael brought the gun up, pressing it right against Brynne’s temple.

  No, no, no.

  Reid put his hands up as visions of Brynne’s skull blowing apart fried him. “Stop.” His throat clogged as he fought the fear trapping his air. “Please. I’ll get rid of them. Just…calm down.”

  “Where’s Reid?” One of the guys asked from the hallway.

  “Probably sleeping it off somewhere. I hope he took that damned IV out.”

  The voices came closer. Reid hustled around his side of the table.

  “Do not,” Rachael said, “try anything, Reid. I swear to God, I’ll shoot her. I’ve got nothing to lose now. Stay where I can see you.”

  Lord, this woman had cracked.

  Reid stepped into the hallway. Ten yards in front of him Gage, Phin, Cam, Zeke, and Jed headed straight for him.

  Gage halted. Thank you, sweet Jesus. “Christ’s sakes, Reid, where’ve you been? I’ve been calling you.”

  Reid steadied himself, locking his knees to stay in place and in Rachael’s sightline. “Sorry. Brynne and I are…uh…talking. You gotta go.” He peered beyond Gage to his cousins. “Hey,” he said.

  Bad enough he had to invite that lot to his wedding, now they were involved in this mess?

  Cam, the FBI agent, shook his head. “No way. Not until we run the obstacle course. We’re tired of hearing about this record.”

  That damned record. Every member of his family was obsessed with it. He’d tear that fucking course down before he let one of them on it right now. “Not today. It’s closed.”

  Gage snorted. “Are you still wasted? It’s an obstacle course. You don’t close it.”

  “Unless,” Phin said, “he’s afraid we’ll break his record.”

  That’d be the day. Reid flashed a smile. “Good luck there, you fucker. Tomorrow, I’ll run it with you. Not today.” He pointed. “Get out.”

  Gage, being Gage, did the dead last thing he should have and started toward him, ready to push right around Reid. “What’s with you?”

  “Suds, please. Before someone gets hurt. Stop!”

  6

  This was it. The jig, as they say, was up.

  An enormous wave of calm slipped over Brynne and her mind went quiet. Thank you.

  Rachael angled back, craning her neck to see where Gage was. Rachael released her grip on Brynne’s hair and the gun left her head.

  Now.

  She could let this woman make a victim out of her, or she could risk everything and fight.

  It wasn’t just her and Reid anymore. There were others. All these men could be hurt. Even if Rachael shot her, she could save the rest.

  Brynne launched herself sideways. Boom. She hit Rachael with enough force to knock her off balance and send her tripping over her own feet. But…whoopsie. Momentum kept Brynne stumbling right along with Rachael. Step, step, step.

  “Gun!” Reid yelled.

  Too late now. The two of them were about to do a joint faceplant. If Brynne wound up with a black eye a butt-kicking would ensue. What kind of lunatic holds a woman hostage on her wedding day?

  Total annihilation of girl code.

  Rachael tumbled to the ground, cushioning Brynne when she followed. She landed hard, her ribs taking the brunt.

  “Ooofff,” she huffed.

  The gun skittered out of Rachael’s reach.

  “Reid! The gun!”

  “No,” Rachael cried.

  She bucked under Brynne, knocking her partway off. Thank God for Brynne’s juicy ass that helped keep the woman in place. But Rachael half-rolled, reaching for the gun. Brynne fired back, whipping her arm over Rachael’s and digging her newly applied acrylic nails into flesh.

  “Ow! Bitch.”

  What? “You take me hostage on my wedding day and I’m the bitch?”

  “What the hell?” One of the men asked.

  “Chick fight,” someone else added.

  Men. Idiots.

  Brynne dug her nails in again, this time harder, snapping two off. “Ow. And now my nails are broken.”

  Thump. Suddenly Reid was in front of her, scooping up the gun.

  Rachael wiggled around, swinging at Brynne, but the blow was off-target and grazed Brynne’s shoulder. Protecting her face, Brynne swung her head and wound up giving Rachael another good target.

  Namely, her hair.

  “Ow. Shit.” Brynne smacked at Rachael’s hand. “Let go. Ow!”

  Above her, Gage stood in the doorway with the cousins. Were they going to stand there and watch?

  “Brynne,” Reid said, “we’re good. Get away from her.”

  As if it was that easy. “She’s got my hair. Ow! Let go. Are you insane? I should beat the snot out of you.”

  “Oh, right,” the witch said. “Sweet little Brynne.”

  Another tug. Oh my God. So done with this woman.

  Cooked.

  Now she’d pay. For all of it. The mental torture, the hostage taking, the insults.

  The loss of two perfectly good nails.

  Rage exploded, shot through her like a freight train flying over a cliff. Pulse slamming, Brynne cocked her fist and—pow—blasted Rachael on the cheek. The blow landed with the crunch of bone against bone, but Brynne hardly felt it. Adrenaline, she supposed, did that for a girl.

  “Whoa,” Gage yelled. “Now that’s enough.”

  Cameron stepped forward and gripped Rachael’s wrist. Rachael cried out and—voila—she let go just as Gage latched on to the back of Brynne’s shirt, dragging her back.

  She fought against Gage’s iron grip, swinging her arms and slapping at him.

  “Honey,” he said, “relax. It’s over. Cam has her.”

  Reid handed the gun to Gage then dropped to his knees, pulling Brynne int
o a fierce hug.

  “Baby,” he whispered, his breath warm against her ear. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  It’s over.

  Rage eased into a quasi state of shock and relief. She squeezed her eyes closed and focused on breathing, on slowing her heart rate down. Lord, too much. She snuggled against Reid’s rock hard chest, taking in every ounce of safety she found there.

  It’s over.

  “Cam,” Gage said. “Hold Rachael while I grab some zip-ties.”

  “On it.”

  “Gotta say,” one of the cousins said, “it’s never dull when we visit the Steeles.”

  * * *

  Ninety minutes later, Reid had been summoned by Brynne, who’d, twelve hours ago, insisted on not seeing him before their wedding.

  A definite indication something had changed. Possibly not in his favor.

  He climbed the last few stairs to his mother’s second floor, his eyes on the door that led to Jonah’s old room. The command center, as they’d nicknamed it. Whatever this was, it couldn’t be good.

  And that was saying something after the day they’d had.

  Maybe she’d changed her mind. Decided, after looking down the barrel of a gun, she didn’t want to marry him. Even if it had turned out to be unloaded.

  Only a desperate woman pulled a stunt like that.

  Dang, this day had whupped him. And now, possibly losing Brynne? No. He couldn’t go there. He reached the top and his feet fused to the floor as a spearing panic tore its way straight to his chest. He closed his eyes, forced himself to breathe. Please, God. He couldn’t lose her.

  After everything he’d faced in his military career, the atrocities he’d witnessed, the blood and gore, the nightmares that occasionally still plagued him. The fear. She’d made it all so much easier. Gave him something to look forward to every day.

  The squeak of the door brought him back to focus. His baby sister, Evie, stepped into the hallway. “Hey,” she said.

  And seeing her, looking so pretty in her bridesmaid dress with her dark hair all done up, sent that spear tearing through him again. Damn.

  “Hey,” he croaked.

  And when did he turn into a pussy? Next he’d be crying, whining about Brynne being pissed at him.

  Evie, like the rest of the women in his life, wasn’t stupid. She tilted her head, then hustled to him, arms extended.

  His feet started moving, rushing toward her until the two of them crashed into each other. Wussie boy that he was, he wrapped her in a tight hug, taking more than his share of comfort from the exchange.

  He squeezed his eyes closed and fought whatever emotional onslaught this was, trying to breathe through it.

  “It’s okay,” she said. “Everyone is fine.”

  As sure as he was standing there, he knew it. Even Rachael was. Under arrest for taking them as hostages—no way around that, according to Maggie—but hopefully, with Reid and Brynne offering statements, she’d get the help she needed.

  Whatever happened, she and Mac, who’d walked back to the hotel, found no one in their room and passed out again, needed time to figure their shit out.

  Evie pulled back and wrapped her hands around his forearms. “Are you okay?”

  He nodded. “I’m good.” He nudged his chin down the hall. “Worried about Brynne.”

  “I know. We all are. She’s handling it amazingly well, though. She’s pretty darned strong.”

  “That she is. Is she…”

  No way. Brynne and Evie were friends. Good friends. He couldn’t put his baby sister in the middle.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Let me go see what’s up.”

  Evie rolled her eyes. “My badass brother is all scaredy-cat.”

  He could deny it. Put up a hell of an argument that would prove Evie was, without question, wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

  What was the point? It didn’t make him less of a man to admit his life possibly disintegrating terrified him.

  “Evie, if she dumps me, I’ll lose my effing mind.”

  Gathering all that Steele family sensitivity, Evie snorted.

  Which, yeah, kind of pissed him off. “Really? That’s what you give me?”

  “Yes. Because, I’d think, if Brynne wanted to, she wouldn’t have us in our bridesmaids’ dresses. But what do I know?”

  Huh. Point there.

  Even if she’d been a smartass about it. He reached up, tweaked her nose between two fingers like he used to when she was little. Got your nose.

  She swatted at his hand. “Don’t even start.”

  He let go and dropped a kiss on his baby sister’s cheek. “I love you, Squirt.”

  “I love you, too. Now, go see your bride. And, hello? Will the real Reid Steele please come home?”

  So much for women liking vulnerable men.

  They burst out laughing, a welcome distraction considering the hellacious day.

  “I’ll see you at the wedding,” Evie said. “I need one of mama’s mimosas.”

  With that, she pushed by him and headed downstairs.

  He walked the last few feet to Jonah’s room. The door stood wide open. Unsure of whether to enter or not, he rapped twice. “Brynne?”

  “Come in.”

  And there she was, dressed in her silky white robe, her face scrubbed clean and her hair in rollers. He couldn’t help but smile.

  “You sure?”

  When she gave him a WTF look, he rolled one hand. “I mean, you didn’t want to see me before the ceremony.”

  “Well, since you’re looking straight at me, not to mention the whole Rachael-losing-her-mind thing, I think we blew that out of the water.”

  True. He stepped into the room and walked straight for her, holding his arms wide and dragging her in close. The warmth of her skin seeped right into him. He inhaled, drawing in the scent—citrus, just like her shampoo—of her bath gel that made him think about the mundane trappings of life. The simplicity of watching her dry her hair or brush her teeth. All of it could have been lost.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said.

  “It’s okay.” She snuggled into his neck and set her hand on his belly, gripping his shirt. “You didn’t know. I’m the one who should apologize.”

  He backed away, peering down at her. “Uh, for what?”

  “For being mad at you over a silly tradition. When I think about…” She shook her head, let out a sharp breath. “When I think about what could have happened. Losing what we have. Nothing else matters. It’s all so…minor.”

  “I know. I’ve been thinking about it since they loaded Rachael into that squad car.”

  “Have you heard anything?”

  “Mac called a while ago. His mind is blown. Totally beside himself.”

  “He needs to find her a good lawyer.”

  How lucky was Reid Steele? His buddy’s wife had terrorized them and Brynne was worried about them finding a lawyer. Unbelievable depth, this woman.

  “Mac is on it,” Reid said. “He’s talking to that guy in Asheville Jonah and Micki know.”

  “Did you tell Mac we’d speak on her behalf? She needs help, not a jail cell.”

  “I did.”

  “Good. And where are the kids? Are they okay?”

  “Yeah. They're with the wives and other children. Clueless.”

  Brynne snuggled into him again. “I hope they come through this okay. No matter what happens with Mac and Rachael, the kids have to come first.”

  “Let’s hope.”

  From the dresser, Brynne’s phone chirped and then a second later did it again. “Ooh.” She backed away and clapped her hands. “That’s my cue. Hair and makeup.” She paddled her hands at Reid. “Shoo. You need to leave. I don’t want to see you until the ceremony.”

  Here we go again. Reid dragged both hands over his face then laughed. “It’s like Groundhog Day.”

  “Hopefully, this time it’ll be uneventful.”

  She went up on tiptoes and wrapped her hand around th
e back of his head, hitting him with a lip-lock. She deepened the kiss, sliding that fantastic tongue of hers along his lower lip because she knew it destroyed him.

  “Dirty pool, my Brynnie.”

  “I know. I love it.” She pushed him away just as his erection started to fire. “Leave now.”

  Not one to be bested, he grinned down at her, then bent low, going for that spot behind her ear that gave her near-instant orgasms. “Two can play that game.”

  Her throaty laugh filled him, sent his blood pumping. Maybe he’d sneak her into the bathroom for a quickie. Put a smile on both their faces.

  “Don’t even think it,” she said.

  She knew him too well. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

  “Yes, actually, I can.”

  Finally, she shoved him away, putting enough force in it to back him up a step. “You’re no fun.”

  “Not on my wedding day, I’m not. Now beat it.”

  “Fine. Remember, you’re the one who called me up here.” He turned to go then spun back. “What did you want anyway?”

  She cocked her head and looked at him with big brown eyes that slayed him. “You. To tell you that I love you and can’t imagine life without you.”

  That tore it. Every frickin’ emotion he’d locked inside, broke free. And, God help him, he didn’t know what to do with it all. So he didn’t do anything. Just let it come. Let wussy-boy tears fill his eyes. For the first time, big, bad Reid Steele cried in front of a woman.

  Brynne walked to him and cupped her hands over his cheeks. “I really do adore you, Reid Sullivan Steele. Now leave so I can get ready to become your wife.”

  7

  At two o’clock on the nose, Brynne stepped off Miss Joan’s front porch with her Dad’s arm hooked through hers. Her skin-tight dress didn’t make the descent all that easy, but she took it slow, one step at a time while Dad refrained from sarcasm.

  At the base of the porch, Dad stopped—uh-oh—and turned toward her. She peered up at his concerned-father gaze. Here it comes. Either the sarcasm or his distaste over the events of the day when, really, she had no interest in a rehash. All she wanted was to move forward. Away from crazy, gun-wielding, disgruntled wives.

  “Honey—”