The Place I Belong Read online

  The Place I Belong

  By Inez Kelley

  Book two of Country Roads

  Jonah Alcott found his true calling as the PR director of Hawkins Hardwood. He’s a master of mediation, but the Black Cherry Canyon project has pushed him to his limit—beautiful but obstinate park manager Zury Castellano crossed a line when she enlisted the help of known eco-terrorists to protect “her” land.

  For Zury, the unspoiled, scenic Black Cherry Falls State Park is more than a job—it’s the only place she’s ever considered home. And she’ll stop at nothing to ensure Hawkins Hardwood doesn’t touch a single twig in it, even if that means agreeing to spend the weekend with corporate drone Jonah. He might think they’re working toward a compromise, but Zury has no intention of backing down.

  Infuriating but irresistible, Zury teaches Jonah that the beauty of the mountains can’t be bought. But Jonah will need to prove he’s on her side—in life and in love—and show her who the real bad guys are, before it’s too late...

  63,000 words

  Dear Reader,

  My vow to you is to not mention the holiday that starts with a V in this letter for the February releases. If you’re like me, you’re probably on holiday overload after all of the winter festivities, and you wish you could just blank out all of those advertisements for diamonds and chocolates and fancy dinners. Of course, if someone wanted to buy us any of that, that would be okay...

  Instead, let me tell you about the sometimes-romantic and sometimes-not lineup of books we have for you this month! Fans of Alison Packard’s The Winning Season will be glad to know that JT and Angie’s story releases this month. Look for sparks to fly in Catching Heat. Author Christi Barth finishes up her Aisle Bound series with A Matchless Romance. You won’t want to miss this playful story about a sexy gamer who just needs a beautiful Chicago matchmaker to help him see how hot he really is.

  Also in the contemporary romance category is Party Girl by Tamara Morgan, following up her well-reviewed romance The Derby Girl. When a good-time party girl meets a backwoods hermit, the only thing bigger than their differences is their attraction. Fan favorite Inez Kelley joins the contemporary romance offerings this month with smoking-hot lumberman Jonah Alcott, who wants to do more than fight with gorgeous mountain activist Zury Castellano in The Place I Belong.

  Lynda Aicher brings her trademark sizzle to a new erotic romance story in her Wicked Play series. In her first male/male romance, Bonds of Denial, security nerd Rockford Fielding finally finds a man worth coming out of the closet for, but Carter Montgomery has to move past his own insecurities before they can claim a future they both thought was impossible.

  Opium addict and Victorian bounty hunter Cherry St. Croix is back again in Karina Cooper’s Tempered. Dragged to a neglected estate and forced to dry out, Cherry tries on the role of helpless Gothic heroine—and tumbles headlong into danger when she takes to meddling in her family’s alchemical history instead.

  Returning to Carina Press with a new series is Eleri Stone with the first book in her new paranormal romance series. In Reaper’s Touch, Jake and Abby work together to find a cure for the infection that turns men into flesh-eating monsters. We’re also welcoming back Jody Wallace with her newest paranormal romance, Witch Interrupted. Wolf shifters heal from tattoos as if they were never inked, so why is the same sexy wolf back in Katie’s tattoo parlor for more? And last but not least in the paranormal romance category, we’re also pleased to bring back Victoria Davies and her newest novella Demon by My Side. When a tempting demon prince crashes into her life, a demon hunter struggles to figure out who she can trust and one wrong move will cost her not only her heart but the safety of the human world as well.

  Concluding her wonderful epic fantasy series, Shawna Thomas wraps up with Journey of the Wanderer in which to save Anatar once and for all, Ilythra must risk everything she loves.

  But with every ending there’s a new beginning, and we’re happy to welcome male/male romance author A.M. Arthur to the Carina Press team. A reformed troublemaker meets his match in an inexperienced bookworm when what was supposed to be a casual relationship starts to look a lot like love in No Such Thing.

  And we’re happy to introduce debut author Holly West. Holly delivers a fascinating, well-plotted historical mystery, the first in a new series. In Mistress of Fortune, Isabel Wilde, a mistress to King Charles II who secretly makes her living as a fortune-teller, is threatened when one of her customers is murdered after revealing a conspiracy to kill the king and the diary of her illicit activities as a soothsayer goes missing, a page of which turns up in the dead man’s pocket.

  Coming in March: look for the newest installment in Marie Force’s Fatal series!

  Here’s wishing you a wonderful month of books you love, remember and recommend.

  Happy reading!

  ~Angela James

  Editorial Director, Carina Press

  Dedication

  As always, for Ryan, my personal lumberjack

  and for Carefulove, the real Zureyden, a big D.I.T.A.

  to you!

  Acknowledgments

  Due to my real life issues, I have put Deb Nemeth through the wringer with this book (and book 1, truth be told) but she has been nothing but professional and supportive. Without her, I think I would have thrown in the towel several times. Without her, there would be no Country Roads. So thank you, my editor, my lifeline and my sanity.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  About the Author

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  There are woods that are stronger and harder than hickory, but the combination of strength, toughness, hardness and denseness in hickory is not found in any other commercial wood. However, green (young) hickory is extremely flexible.

  “I’m going to need bail money.” Jonah’s knuckles turned white from his grip on the phone. “And possibly an alibi.”

  “Just keep turning up that charm.” A feminine snort carried through the airwave. “You’ll have her eating out of your palm in no time.”

  “Dangerous. I don’t think she’s had a rabies shot lately.”

  He flipped the air conditioner to high and laid his head back against the car seat. Babette Garrison, nicknamed Bob, was silent for several heartbeats. Jonah could just see her pursing those lips she loved to paint fire-engine red. It wouldn’t be a pouty-kiss-me pursing either. It would be that my-brain-is-spinning-and-you’re-going-to-be-sorry pucker.

  He bit back a groan. He’d climbed fairly high on the Hawkins Hardwood roster but, as vice president, Bob was still his superior. She’d assigned the Black Cherry Canyon project to him exclusively, naming him as the park liaison. That meant park manager Zury Castellano was his problem. Joy of joys. He’d almost rather have a flesh-eating virus.

  “We have organized protesters at the Canyon logging site.”

  His spine snapped straight. “What?”

  There was the sound of an internet browser pinging and the shuffle of paper. “Just sent you pictures. Cutting was halted until the sheriff’s department forced the protesters to the landing zone for safety, which took several hours. This is more than online ranting or a
rticles for the Metro News. It’s starting to interfere with operations.”

  “On it.” He punched the End button and fired up his email program to find seven pictures, each one showing sign-carrying protesters marching in front of logging equipment, scowling loggers in the background. The hand-painted slogans were typical rhetoric. Protect the Forests, Stop the Tree-Killing, Green not Greed were intermingled with giant earth graphics, images of crying trees and one idiotic I <3 Ice Cream! sign. But it was the final picture that churned his blood.

  A group of teens in Black Cherry Falls State Park T-shirts held a banner saying Don’t Pop the Cherry! He’d heard that motto before, from one very lush and beautiful mouth he’d love to silence. Zury Castellano didn’t have to be present to make her presence known.

  A silent growl curled his lip. The bitch went too far now. Hawkins Hardwood had bought Black Cherry Canyon legally, every last stick of timber and inch of dirt. She could throw any temper tantrum she wanted but now she was interfering with production.

  Time for a come-to-Jesus meeting. Keying the engine, he hooked a K-turn, aiming his company SUV back toward Black Cherry Falls State Park.

  Jagged towering rocks framed Route 93 like a cage. The winding road sliced into the mountain, splitting the rock and exposing striations thousands of years old. Bituminous coal seams divided the mountain’s belly into bands of natural color. In the old days, pure muscle and driving steel had chopped through those rocks. Enough fury burned in his blood to blast another few tons of stone out of Jonah’s way. Zury Castellano didn’t stand a chance.

  Thirty-nine minutes of driving at breakneck speed gave him plenty of time to fume. He tried her cell twice but both times it bounced to voice mail. She was always available for her staff so she most likely was avoiding him. He tossed the cell on the seat with a growl.

  He shifted gears as the mountain road grew steeper. When Webb Hawkins had purchased the twenty-five hundred acres of timberland from the state, the Department of Tourism had kept control of Black Cherry Falls State Park. So smack dab in the middle of over a million dollars of prime timber was a scenic paradise state park, currently under the management of a beautiful pain in the ass.

  He’d fought many PR battles but he’d never had an opponent so drop-dead gorgeous or mule-headed stubborn. Her first dissenting letter to the editor he’d brushed off. The second was more emotional, more aggressive, and had garnered a couple interviews. He’d responded then, smoothing every feather she’d ruffled and calming the waters she’d stirred.

  Going over her head, he’d approached the Director of State Tourism. An ache formed in his cheek from gritting his teeth, and he deliberately loosened his jaw. The little prick had just laughed when Jonah asked him to call her to task. Zury’s open defiance had thrust West Virginia’s state parks into the public’s eye and attendance was up everywhere.

  Then the petitions came in, filled with thousands of signatures that weren’t worth the paper they were written on. He was countering those when she’d initiated her Anti-Hawkins in Black Cherry Canyon Facebook campaign. With every public entry, she dragged the Hawkins name further into the mud. He’d replied to many of the initial posts until she’d blocked him.

  At every step of the way, he went nose to nose with Zury Castellano. The Twitter hashtag #HawkinsKills had consumed him for days. He’d employed forestry students at three West Virginia colleges and they took over the battle with zeal. If she scheduled an interview, he countermanded, doing the same on that network and more. He’d taken the defensive position and established visible support from politicians, local celebrities and businesses. The name Hawkins had never been in the limelight as much, and he did his damnedest to make sure the majority of those mentions were positive.

  Forestry and tourism existed side by side in every county in West Virginia. Why did she have to be difficult?

  She just kept pushing, irritating him like a buzzing fly. If there was ever a woman who deserved to be swatted, it was her. Erotic images of her floated in his mind’s eye, ones where she was bent fanny up and carried his palm print on her tight ass.

  Bypassing the entrance to the Black Cherry Falls picnic area, he aimed his vehicle for the main lodge, cursing at the posted speed of ten miles an hour and plethora of speed bumps. The parking lot was crowded, locals and tourists flocking to the sprawling vistas that earned West Virginia the nickname The Mountain State. He slowed to a crawl, looking for an open spot.

  A beat-up white jeep spit dust across the hood of his SUV. With the top off, the driver’s short blue-black hair danced like a flame in the wind. Jonah followed her out of the lot, then floored it.

  She barely had a fifteen-second lead so he caught up to her in a blink but the narrow country lanes made passing impossible. Palms itching, he snuggled the nose of his SUV right up to her bumper. He was close enough to see the reflection of her jaw shifting and the flash of irritation in her dark eyes through the rearview mirror. The line of her shoulders squared and her speed increased by eight miles.

  A grin tugged at his mouth as a predatory satisfaction flooded him. His foot fell harder on the accelerator. In a minuscule straight stretch, she turned and scowled at him, then took a fast right without signaling.

  Gravel spat into the air as he jerked the wheel, and the SUV swayed hard to the side. His attaché case, phone and digital tablet crashed to the floor but the tires held the asphalt. The jeep jumped like a jackrabbit, putting distance between them. Something thrilling surged in his veins, something close to excitement, as he punched the motor harder.

  In a vicious game of vehicular tag, they tore down the twisty road, stirring up leaves and scaring birds. When the faded yellow road paint turned to a broken line, he moved to the left, intent on pulling alongside her, but she blocked him, yanking the wheel until the jeep straddled the center line. The jeep had no chance against his more powerful motor but she kept him pinned by weaving back and forth, giving no chance to pass.

  Without warning, she headed down a private road, one that led to a housing development, and Jonah saw his move.

  “You want to play games?”

  He scanned the two-lane road curving around the upcoming bend, did a fast calculation, then sent up a one-word prayer and stomped on the gas. The sudden burst of speed hurtled his SUV past her on the right shoulder. He missed a row of mailboxes by a whisker, leaving them shuddering in his draft. The thinnest slice of air separated her white paint from his black, and she blistered that space with a fierce glare.

  Pulling ahead of the jeep, Jonah copied her and swayed back and forth between both lanes, keeping her caged behind him. In his rearview, her fist slammed into the steering wheel. After a quick burst of speed to get ahead of her, he slowed to a crawl and pulled sidewise, vehicle nose blocking the north lane, ass end blocking the south. Zury Castellano was going nowhere.

  Before he could climb from his seat, she stomped toward him, spitting Hispanic insults. Huge, dark Cuban eyes crackled with annoyance and the slender lines along her neck stood out. Jonah did a double take. He’d never seen her in anything but business attire, and his brain stuttered at the sight of long shapely legs pouring from beneath a casual pair of shorts. The faded tank top exposed a delicate collarbone and a shadowed valley of cleavage. Small firm breasts bounced as her hands gestured wildly.

  “¡Estúpido! You crazy bastard. ¿Tú estás loco? You could’ve killed anybody on this road.”

  Pulling himself together, he leaned lazily on the side panel. “You started it, darlin’. Should’ve answered your phone. I just want to talk.”

  “Don’t call me darling.” Zury propped one hand on her cocked hip. “Phone the office for an appointment on Monday.”

  “Two words.” He kicked away from the vehicle and pulled to his full six foot three, taking far too much pleasure in invading her personal space. “Protest rally.”

  “Peacef
ul assembly is every American’s constitutional right.” Her nails were unpainted but had bright white tips. One jammed into his sternum through his tie. “I’ll do whatever I have to do to keep your sorry-assed, money-grubbing, tree-cutting excuse for a company from destroying my canyon.”

  Jonah bit back the urge to snarl. “Give it up, Zury. It’s not your canyon. The land is bought and paid for. The logging has started. It’s a done deal. You squawking isn’t doing anything but giving people a headache.”

  “Take an aspirin because I’m not backing down. I won’t let you destroy the park’s views.” A sudden bright sheen filled her eyes as her lips thinned. Her gaze raked over him with disgust. “Why am I talking to you? You’re nothing more than Webb Hawkins’s lapdog.”

  He bared his teeth. “Better be careful. I bite.”

  Zury went to her tiptoes and brought her face close to his. “So do I.”

  Inexplicably, his dick hardened in his pants. Apparently not only were the professional gloves off, but the PC barriers had been stripped away as well, leaving him with a serious case of lust. There was no denying she was gorgeous. He’d realized that six months ago. But she’d always been cool, aloof and disdaining. In this stripped-down casual setting, with fury enlivening her face, her pixie-cut hair tumbled by the wind and passion flushing her cheeks, she was positively radiant.

  But he still had a job to do.

  “Let me show you that Hawkins isn’t out to destroy anything.”

  White flashed as she rolled her eyes before spinning on her heel. “I outgrew show-and-tell in kindergarten.”

  “Afraid I might prove you wrong?”

  Zury froze at his challenge, one hand on the back of her seat, one foot inside the jeep.

  Got her.

  Jonah cupped her elbow, ignoring the warm, soft skin that filled his hand. “We can spend the next few years sniping at each other or you can grow up, act like an adult and listen.”