SLOW PLAY (7-Stud Club Book 4) Read online

  Contents

  Also Available

  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

  Excerpt – TAKE ME TENDER

  Excerpt – LIGHT MY FIRE

  Also by Christie Ridgway

  About the Author

  Also Available

  All In (7-Stud Club Book 1)

  No Limit (7-Stud Club Book 2)

  Ante Up (7-Stud Club Book 3)

  Slow Play (7-Stud Club Book 4)

  Wild Card Coming January 21, 2021!

  Almost Wonderful (Almost Book 1)

  Almost Always (Almost Book 2)

  Almost Everything (Almost Book 3)

  Almost Paradise (Almost Book 4)

  Take Me Tender (Billionaire’s Beach Book 1)

  Take Me Forever (Billionaire’s Beach Book 2)

  Take Me Home (Billionaire’s Beach Book 3)

  The Scandal (Billionaire’s Beach Book 4)

  The Seduction (Billionaire’s Beach Book 5)

  The Secret (Billionaire’s Beach Book 6)

  Light My Fire (Rock Royalty Book 1)

  Love Her Madly (Rock Royalty Book 2)

  Break on Through (Rock Royalty Book 3)

  Touch Me (Rock Royalty Book 4)

  Wishful Sinful (Rock Royalty Book 5)

  Wild Child (Rock Royalty Book 6)

  Who Do You Love (Rock Royalty Book 7)

  Love Me Two Times (Rock Royalty Book 8)

  Rock Royalty Boxed Set – Books 1-3

  One Look (One & Only Book 1)

  One Kiss (One & Only Book 2)

  One Night (One & Only Book 3)

  One Love (One & Only Book 4)

  Make Him Wild (Intoxicating Book 1)

  Make Him Want (Intoxicating Book 2)

  Make Him Stay (Intoxicating Book 3)

  SLOW PLAY

  7-Club Stud Book 4

  “A sizzling combination of heat and heart.” Barbara Freethy, #1 New York Times Bestselling Author

  Detective Maddox Kelly likes his shirts ironed, his puzzles solved, and his heart locked up tight, until the one-who-got-away returns to town and upends his well-ordered life.

  Maddox retains fond memories of Harper Mitchell—or so he tells himself when his dreams of her and how she walked away don’t keep him up all night. But now she’s back, hot and sweet as ever, but he’s not foolish enough to get attached when the free-spirit will surely just leave town again.

  A family emergency returns Harper to Sawyer Beach and she intends to keep her head down and her suitcases packed. The tempting lure of that sexy, impossible-to-forget man is hard to ignore, however. Surely one more taste of the fruit of first love won’t break her heart.

  Enjoy the 7-Stud Club! Seven poker night buddies who are very good with their hands…and are about to lose their hearts! Only great risk leads to great reward…

  The 7-Stud Club Series:

  All In (Boone & Gemma)

  No Limit (Eli & Sloane)

  Ante Up (Cooper & Willow)

  Slow Play (Maddox & Harper)

  Wild Card

  Smooth Call

  Dealer’s Choice

  SLOW PLAY

  7-Stud Club Book 4

  © Copyright 2020 Christie Ridgway

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED (v3)

  ISBN: 9781939286529

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Visit Christie’s website

  Meet up with her on Facebook

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  Sign up for Christie’s Newsletter

  Chapter One

  Usually wrapping up a case with a confession left Maddox Kelly feeling gratified. Today, though, job satisfaction didn’t seem to suppress a nagging sense of something missing in his life. Driving through his hometown of Sawyer Beach with one hand, unknotting his tie with the other, he squinted at the September afternoon sunshine streaming through his dusty windshield. Washing the SUV was a must before he garaged the vehicle during his upcoming surf vacation.

  Besides sleeping and packing, it was the third and only item on his to-do list.

  For the first time in a long while, his caseload didn’t loom over him. The lieutenant had practically shoved Mad out the door of the police department ten minutes ago. “You’re gonna burn out, Kelly,” he’d warned. “You won’t do your best detective work without rest.”

  Yeah. Well. Truth was, though he loved his job, he did need a break. For too long, he’d been putting one foot in front of the other, with nothing on the horizon worth looking at. Everything seemed as dull as the glass he was staring through.

  Upon reaching the town’s business district—a few blocks of small shops and businesses operating behind simple storefronts or within small homes built at the turn of the 20th century—Mad was forced to shift his foot to the brake, slowing for the inevitable Friday traffic. What with nearby colleges and a university, acclaimed wine growers and wineries, a few tech companies, oceanfront property, and a weekly farmers market featuring locally grown produce, Sawyer Beach attracted a wealth of tourists year-round.

  A Vespa pulled in front of his SUV, forcing him to brake completely. While they both waited for a gaggle of visitors to jaywalk from one side of the street to the other, he glanced over at Fun & Games, the brew pub owned by one of his oldest and closest friends, Cooper Daggett. The bar offered food, drink, and retro arcade games and pinball machines. Then, as if he’d conjured him up, the man himself strolled out of the entry, his gaze lighting on Mad’s vehicle.

  Grinning, Coop jogged over and Mad brought down his window. “Hey!” his friend said. “Perfect timing. I need you to play tiebreaker.”

  “You do?” He saw the scooter in front of him accelerate, and instead of following, angled into an open parking space.

  His friend leaned into the window as he turned off the car. “Come in for a beer. I’ll buy.”

  Mad considered, then shook his head. “I want to get home, stretch out. I’m hoping for a straight eighteen hours of sleep. But I’ll break your tie for you first.”

  Still, since September temps made it possible he’d roast in his car, he climbed from the seat and came around to lean against the front bumper. “What’s your dilemma?”

  “I’m taking Willow to a B&B for the weekend in Monterey. She’s been working too hard.”

  “Good idea.” Cooper, previously a serial dater with barrels of charisma but little interest in permanence, had fallen for one Willow Ray, an interior designer and relative newcomer to town. Coop had initially doubted whether he could commit like she wanted and deserved, but he’d been quickly struck down by Cupid or whatever capricious god that seemed to be attacking their group of friends these days.

  But Mad liked Willow. Cooper should keep her.

  “I’m debating on the right, uh, nightwear I should pack for her—I’m going to swoop her up from her latest job and just head north without stopping at home.”

  “Oh.” Mad wasn’t sure packing for someone of the female persuasion was the best idea. “Uh…�
�

  “Long and black and slinky or short and red and see-through?”

  Mad eyed his friend. “Who are you discussing this with?”

  “Grace,” Cooper said, naming his manager, a woman in her late twenties.

  At least he wasn’t debating lingerie with the construction crew that showed up every afternoon for beers and Mario Bros.

  “So,” Cooper continued, “black or red?”

  “Willow’s been working too hard?”

  His friend nodded. “Night and day.”

  “Then nothing slinky or see-through,” he advised.

  “Huh?” Coop frowned, clearly disappointed. Then he brightened. “Are you recommending no nightwear at all? That might work—”

  “No, I’m saying go over to Gifts for Girlfriends.” He pointed toward the boutique run by the fiancée of another of their friends. “Have Gemma help you select some soft and comfortable pajamas. A matching robe.”

  Cooper took a moment to think that over, then a smile slowly dawned. “Yeah. Great idea. She deserves pampering, not some horny boyfriend hitting on her.” With a two-fingered salute, he headed off in the direction of the boutique. Then turned around. “How’d you get so smart?”

  “Older sister. And I actually listen to our women friends. No female wants a man to buy her the skimpy stuff. Let them choose that on their own.”

  “Right. Any other words of advice?”

  Mad must really love the guy, because he offered up his best tip. “At Gemma’s, find a shampoo with a scent you really like. When you’re at the B&B, make some time to wash Willow’s hair. Thoroughly. Bet she feels pampered and you get your horniness attended to. Win-win.”

  Coop’s smile grew to a grin. “You need a favor, Mad, I’ve got your back.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” He waved off his friend. “I won’t need favors. I’m going to be hitting the waves in Mexico.”

  Ten days of surf and sun should smooth his brittle edges, improve his outlook, brighten the world for him. Any of those things. All those things.

  He reached for his door handle when he was hailed once again. A second old friend.

  Such was life in a smallish town you’d lived in your entire life. The one that claimed your mother as its mayor. He shifted to face the lanky man with a shock of hair spilling over his forehead. “What’s up, Shane?” he asked. “Your bags packed for Zihuatanejo?”

  The expression on the other man’s face made Mad furrow his brow. “What’s wrong?”

  “We’re screwed,” Shane said. “Have you been following the weather in Mexico?”

  “Uh, no.” He’d been deep in wrapping up the case.

  “I just got word that our surf camp was decimated by the latest hurricane.”

  “Hell,” Mad said. Hurricane and tropical storm season in that part of the world was summer into fall, but he’d not been tuned in to the latest forecasts. “Decimated?”

  “As in, the place is gone. Literally gone.” Shane shoved back his hair. “And before you ask, there’s an advisory against traveling to the area. Other resorts, even the high-end ones, have suffered damage as well.”

  Meaning their Mexican trip was off. He hoped the family that ran the surf camp they’d visited a few times could rebuild, but obviously not in time for Mad to visit this year. So much for sand and surf with beer and tequila shooters on the side. “We could head north,” he mused aloud. “Strap the boards on top of my car and—”

  His buddy was already shaking his head. “I’m going to have to say no.” Shane shoved his hair away again. “We got a call to take over a roofing contract when a fellow businessman lost a couple of his workers to a hospital stay after a rollover on the highway.”

  Mad grimaced. “I heard about that.”

  “Yeah. Three guys hospitalized with various broken bones. They’ll be all right eventually, but now I want to help out the other contractor.”

  “I get it,” Mad said. A small business owner like Shane—he owned a business with his half-brother Rafael—had to make hay when the opportunities presented themselves.

  “Maybe I’ll postpone my vacation.” Though Mad could practically guarantee his lieutenant wouldn’t let him back through the department doors. “No, I’ll probably paint my house.”

  “That doesn’t sound like any fun.” He sighed. “Sorry, Mad.”

  He waved the apology away. “I’ll think of something to fill my time.” That sleep he needed. Maybe his head would hit the pillow and he’d wake up on the morning he was scheduled to return to his desk.

  That could work.

  Back in his car, he continued through town, the traffic lightening as he reached the outer edge of the business district.

  Cars peeled off onto side streets, others veered into parking spaces, and then the wide-open road stretched ahead of him—except it wasn’t wide open at all. A beater of a vehicle blocked his lane, the body scuffed and dirty, its Nevada license plate dinged and dingy. Sluggish hazard lights blinked at the same rate as a sloth’s eyes.

  The hood, paint oxidized, was propped up and from here he could see a side view of a woman leaning over the engine. Just part of her, dressed in ancient cut-off overalls and lightweight hiking boots that looked as if they’d walked a million miles.

  On a sigh, Mad stopped his vehicle and turned off the ignition.

  Without even taking a look at him, the woman raised her slender hand and waved him along, indicating he should steer around the blockage.

  Maybe he would have considered it, but Mrs. Dowd came to stand in the doorway of her paper goods shop. If he left a damsel in distress, the old gossip would spread the news all over town. This was when mom-as-mayor was a distinct liability.

  He stepped out of the car, then approached the disabled vehicle, his leather soles clapping against the asphalt. “Can I help?”

  The woman jerked straight, then glanced briefly his way, a black ball cap shadowing her face. “No need,” she called out, her second dismissive hand gesture now more like a swat. Her head turned back and she bent again.

  He was a man, so he noticed her nice ass, then moved off the thought before he had to feel guilty about it. Sister. Women friends.

  Further loosening the knot of his tie, he ventured closer. “Really,” he said. “I might be able to help. I took auto shop in high school.”

  “Yeah? Me, too.”

  That made him pause. Not the fact that she’d taken the elective, but the quality of her voice stirred something in him. It was low, a bit throaty, and someone he’d known a lifetime ago had lamented her “frogginess” until he’d managed to convince her that guys found it sexy.

  That he found it sexy.

  “Aren’t you going to help the young lady?” Mrs. Dowd called out. She wore her hair in a helmet of tight curls and colored it an impossible shade of red, just this side of rust.

  “Sure,” Mad said easily, looking over at the elderly woman. Other cars backed up behind his, so he backtracked to activate his own hazard lights, his bigger vehicle protecting the broken-down clunker the damsel continued to fiddle with. He directed the vehicles to go around. “You doing well, Mrs. Dowd?”

  “At the moment, the parking spaces in front of my store aren’t accessible,” she said testily. “Who should I complain to?”

  “I’ll handle it,” he promised the older woman, striding forward.

  “I’ll handle it,” the driver said, and she sounded almost as irritated as Mrs. Dowd.

  Not that he assumed she couldn’t, but the old shopkeeper was giving him the evil eye, making Mad feel ten years old again. “Give me a chance,” he said.

  He thought she muttered, “I gave you a chance,” but before he could interpret the meaning of that, she exclaimed, “Done,” and then straightened again, brushing the palms of her hands together.

  She darted past him and inserted herself into the driver’s seat. Then he heard the car engine start up, followed by her triumphant little crow.

  “Way to go,” he said. “I�
�ll get the hood.” He moved around to the front of the car and released the strut that propped it open. As the big metal piece clicked into place, he looked through her bug-splattered windshield.

  Her hat was gone. Even through the scattered guts and gore—and he didn’t refer to what her leaving six years ago had done to him, though he could—Mad recognized the woman who’d come back to his town.

  It felt like a sharp punch to the solar plexus, and for a moment he couldn’t breathe. What. The. Hell.

  Harper Hill?

  So much for that sleep he craved. Because with Harper anywhere in his vicinity, he’d never get a wink of it.

  Harper Hill. She saw Mad Kelly mouth her name, then approach the driver’s side of her car. Her hand automatically shot toward the passenger seat, found her ball cap, then jammed it on her head. She snagged the sunglasses that hung on her rearview mirror and slipped them on as well.

  Camouflage. Protection.

  Too late, because obviously he’d already recognized her, but the accessories would send the message she wasn’t feeling warm and friendly. That she was in a here-and-gone frame of mind.

  Because she couldn’t ignore him completely, she cranked down the window.

  Halfway.

  “Thanks for the thought, but I really didn’t need help.” Suppressing a wince, she hoped her tone didn’t sound as cranky to him as it sounded to her.

  “You didn’t need it, as you said.”

  “Right. Coil wire. It shakes loose on occasion.” Many occasions. But the car continued to get her from place to place, so she wasn’t complaining. “Well, good seeing you.”