Rough & Tumble (The Haven Brotherhood) Read online

  Rough & Tumble

  By Rhenna Morgan

  Live hard, f*ck harder and follow only their own rules. Those are the cornerstones the six men of the Haven Brotherhood live and bleed by, refusing to conform to society’s expectations, taking what they want and always watching each other’s backs.

  A self-made man with his fingers in a variety of successful businesses, Jace Kennedy lives for the challenge and he always gets what he wants. From the start, he sees Vivienne Moore’s hidden wild side and knows she’s his perfect match, if only he can break it free. He will have her. One way or another.

  Vivienne’s determined to ditch the rough lifestyle she grew up in, even if that means hiding her true self behind a bland socialite veneer. Dragging her party-hound sister out of a club was not how she wanted to ring in the New Year, but Viv knows the drill. Get in, get her sister and get back to the safe, stable life she’s built for herself as fast as humanly possible. But Viv’s plans are derailed when she finds herself crashing into the club’s clearly badass and dangerously sexy owner.

  Jace is everything Vivienne swore she never wanted, but the more time she spends with him, the more she starts to see that he loves just as fiercely as he fights. He can walk society’s walk and talk society’s talk, but when he wants something, he finds a way to get it. He’s proud of who he is and where he came from, and he’ll be damned if he lets Vivienne go before showing her the safest place of all is in the arms of a dangerous man.

  This book is approximately 105,000 words

  Edited by Angela James

  One-click with confidence. This title is part of the Carina Press Romance Promise: all the romance you’re looking for with an HEA/HFN. It’s a promise! Find out more at CarinaPress.com/RomancePromise

  Dear Reader,

  I’m practically cackling and rubbing my hands with glee at the amazing books we have in store for you this month. You’re going to fall in love with the newest additions to the Carina Press author lineup while enjoying the very best of our returning authors. Forgive me for saying it but...whee! Read on for the goodness...

  This month Lucy Parker brings us her much anticipated sequel to contemporary romance Act Like It. Pretty Face returns readers to the highly acclaimed world of the London stage with laugh-out-loud wit and plenty of drama. Iconic director Luc Savage is in for a surprise with his new show—not to mention a May-December romance with its feisty star!

  New-to-Carina-Press author Rhenna Morgan kicks off her new super-sexy contemporary romance series with Rough & Tumble. With his badass don’t-take-no-for-an-answer approach to life, Jace Kennedy is everything Vivienne Moore swore she never wanted in a man—especially after the rough lifestyle she grew up in. But Jace sees the hidden wild side in Vivienne, and he won’t give up until he shows her the safest place is in the arms of a dangerous man. By the way, Jace might be a badass, but he’s no alphahole. This is a guy every inch in love with his lady and willing to treat her like gold.

  We return to Lauren Dane’s Cascadia Wolves series with Wolf Unbound. We meet Tegan—a Pack Enforcer who, after the death of her mate, thought she’d be alone forever. Until she meets Ben, handsome, dominant...and human.

  Amber Bardan returns with a stunning new stand-alone sultry contemporary romance in King’s Captive. In Julius’s world, on his island, he is King. Money and power mean he rules all around him—including her.

  In fan-favorite A.M. Arthur’s newest male/male romance, As I Am, scarred shut-in Taz finally braves the outside world for intensely shy Will, but secrets from both of their pasts could destroy their fragile new love.

  Fans of Scott Hildreth’s The Gun Runner be prepared! Michael Tripp is back and as bad as ever in The Game Changer. Tripp and Terra are moving toward their happily-ever-after, but first they have to overcome the secrets they’re still keeping from each other—and her mafia family’s inexorable determination to pull Tripp into la famiglia.

  We’re introducing three debut authors this month. First, join Agents Irish & Whiskey in Single Malt, Layla Reyne’s debut male/male romantic suspense. Widowed FBI agent and Irish ex-pat Aidan Talley falls hard for his handsome younger partner, Jameson “Whiskey” Walker, as they investigate cybercrimes and the murder of Aidan’s late husband.

  In Mark of the Moon, a hookup with a vampire goes wrong when Dana Markovitz is scratched by a jealous were-cat. You won’t want to miss this sexy new urban fantasy series from debut author Beth Dranoff.

  From debut author Sarah Hawthorne comes Enforcer’s Price, book one in the Demon Horde series. In this romantic motorcycle club romance, Colt is just starting to trust again, but Krista is hiding something big. Can he still love her when she reveals sex and money go hand in hand for her?

  Don’t miss this amazing lineup of new and returning authors, and look for their next books in the upcoming months!

  Next month: Don’t miss Shannon Stacey’s return to the world of everyone’s favorite blue-collar family, the Kowalskis, with a heart-warming and funny all-new romance that also reunites you with all your favorite Kowalskis.

  As always, until next month, my fellow book lovers, here’s wishing you a wonderful month of books you love, remember and recommend.

  Happy reading!

  Angela James

  Editorial Director, Carina Press

  Dedication

  For my readers—the lovers of happily-ever-afters and knights in tarnished armor. This world needs more romantics like us.

  Contents

  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

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Epilogue

  Excerpt from Wild & Sweet by Rhenna Morgan

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Rhenna Morgan

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Nothing like a New Year’s Eve drunk-sister-search-and-rescue to top off a chaos-laden twelve-hour workday. Vivienne dialed Shinedown’s newest release from full blast to almost nothing and whipped her Honda hybrid into a pay-by-the-hour lot in the heart of Dallas’s Deep Ellum. Five freaking weekends in a row Callie had pulled this crap, with way too many random SOS calls before her current streak.

  At least this place was in a decent part of town. Across the street, men and women milled outside a new bar styled like an old-fashioned pub called The Den, with patrons dressed in everything from T-shirts and faded jeans, to leather riding gear and motorcycle boots. Not one of them looked like they were calling the party quits anytime
soon.

  Viv tucked her purse beneath the seat, stashed her key fob in her pocket, and strode into the humid January night. Her knockoff Jimmy Choos clicked against the aged blacktop, and cool fog misted her cheeks.

  Off to one side, an appreciative whistle sounded between low, masculine voices.

  She kept her head down, hustled through the dark double doors and into a cramped, black-walled foyer. A crazy-big bouncer with mocha skin and dreads leaned against the doorjamb between her and the main bar, his attention centered on a stunning brunette in a soft pink wifebeater, jeans, and stilettos.

  The doors behind her clanged shut.

  Pushing to full height, the bouncer warily scanned Viv head to toe. Hard to blame the guy. Outside of health inspectors and liquor licensing agents, they probably didn’t get many suits in here, and she’d bet none of them showed in silk shirts.

  “ID,” he said.

  “I’m not here to stay. I just need to find someone.”

  He smirked and crossed his arms. “Can’t break the rules, momma. No ID, no party.”

  “I don’t want a party, I want to pick up my sister and then I’m out. She said she’d be up front. About my height, light brown, curly hair and three sheets to the wind?”

  “You must mean Callie,” the brunette said. “She was up here about an hour ago mumbling something about sissy, so I’m guessing you’re her.” She leaned into Scary Bouncer Dude’s formidable chest, grinned up at him, and stroked his biceps with an almost absentminded reverence. “May as well let her in. If you don’t, Trev will spend closing time hearing his waitresses bitch about cleaning up puke.”

  Too bad Viv didn’t have someone to bitch to about getting puke detail. Callie sure as heck never listened.

  Bouncer dude stared Viv down and slid his mammoth hand far enough south he palmed the brunette’s ass. He jerked his head toward the room beyond the opening. “Make it quick. You might be old enough, but the cops have been in three times tonight chomping to bust our balls on any write-up they can find.”

  Finally, something in her night that didn’t require extra time and trouble. Though if she’d been smart, she’d have grabbed her ID before she came in.

  “Smart move, chief.” The woman tagged him with a fast but none-too-innocent kiss, winked, and motioned for Viv to follow. “Come on. I’ll show you where she is.”

  An even better break. The last search and rescue had taken over thirty minutes in a techno dance bar. She’d finally found Callie passed out under a set of stairs not far from the main speakers, but the ringing in Viv’s ears had lasted for days. At least this time she’d have a tour guide and an extra pair of hands.

  The place was as eclectic on the inside as it was out. Rock and movie collectibles hung on exposed brick walls and made the place look like it’d been around for years even though it reeked of new. Every table was packed. Waitresses navigated overflowing trays between the bustling crowd, and Five Finger Death Punch vibrated loud enough to make conversation a challenge.

  The brunette smiled and semi-yelled over one shoulder, never breaking her hip-slinging stride. “Nice turnout for an opening week, yeah?”

  Well, that explained the new smell. “I don’t do crowds.” At least not this kind. Signing her dad’s Do Not Resuscitate after a barroom brawl had pretty much cured her of smoky, dark and wild. “It looks like a great place though.”

  The woman paused where the bar opened to a whole different area and scanned Viv’s outfit. “From the looks of things, you could use a crowd to loosen up.” She shrugged and motioned toward the rear of the room. “Corner booth. Last I saw your girl she was propped up between two airheads almost as hammered as she was. And don’t mind Ivan. The cops are only hounding the owner, not the customers. My name’s Lily if you need anything.” And then she was gone, sauntering off to a pack of women whooping it up at the opposite end of the club.

  So much for an extra set of hands. At least this part of the bar was less crowded, scattered sitting areas with every kind of mismatched chair and sofa you could think of making it a whole lot easier to case the place.

  She wove her way across the stained black concrete floors toward the randomly decorated booths along the back. Overhead, high-end mini sparkle lights cast the room in a muted, sexy glow. Great for ambience, but horrid for picking drunk sisters out of a crowd. Still, Viv loved the look. She’d try the same thing in her own place if it wouldn’t ruin the tasteful uptown vibe in her new townhouse. Funky might be fun, but it wouldn’t help with resale.

  Laughter and a choking cloud of smoke mushroomed out from the corner booth.

  The instant Viv reached the table, the chatter died. Three guys, two girls and the stench of Acapulco Red—but no sister. “You guys see Callie?”

  A lanky man with messy curly blond hair eyed her beneath thirty-pound eyelids and grinned, not even bothering to hide the still smoldering joint. “‘Sup.”

  The redhead cozied next to him smacked him on the shoulder and glowered. “She’s after Callie, Mac. Not stopping in for a late-night chat.” She reached across the table and handed Viv an unpaid bar tab. “She headed to the bathroom about ten minutes ago, but be sure you take this with you. She stuck me with the bill last night.”

  Seventy-eight bucks. A light night for New Year’s Eve, which was a damn good thing considering Viv’s bank balance. She tucked the tab in her pocket. “Which way to the bathroom?”

  The girl pointed toward a dark corridor. “Down that hall and on your left.”

  Viv strode that direction, not bothering with any follow-up niceties. Odds were good they wouldn’t remember her in the morning, let alone five minutes from now.

  Inside the hallway, the steady drone of music and laughter plunged to background noise. Two scowling women pranced past her headed back into the bar. One glanced over her shoulder and shook her head at Viv. “May as well head to the one up front. Someone’s in that one and isn’t coming out anytime soon from the sound of things.”

  Well, shit. This was going to be fun. She wiggled the knob. “Callie?”

  God, she hoped it was her sister in there. Knowing her luck, she was interrupting a New Year’s booty call. Although, if that were the case, they were doing it wrong because it was way too quiet. She tried the knob again and knocked on the door. “Callie, it’s Viv. Open up.”

  Still no answer.

  Oh, to hell with it. She banged on the door and gave it the good old pissed-off-sister yell. “Callie, for the love of God, open the damned door! I want to go home.”

  A not so promising groan sounded from inside a second before the door marked Office at her right swung wide. A tall Adonis in jeans and a club T-shirt emblazoned with The Den’s edgy logo blocked the doorway, his sky blue eyes alert in a way that shouldn’t be possible past 1:00 a.m.

  Two men filled the space behind him, one shirtless with arms braced on the top of a desk, and another leaning close, studying the shirtless guy’s shoulder. No wait, he wasn’t studying it, he was stitching it, which explained the seriously bloody shirt on the floor.

  “Got more bathrooms up front. No need to break down the damned door.” Adonis Man ambled toward her, zigzagging his attention between her and the bathroom. “There a problem?”

  Dear God in heaven, now that the Adonis had moved out of the way, the shirtless guy was on full, mouthwatering display, and he was every book boyfriend and indecent fantasy rolled up into one. A wrestler’s body, not too big and not too lean, but one hundred percent solid. A huge tattoo covered his back, a gnarled and aged tree with a compass worked into the gothic design. And his ass. Oh hell, that ass was worth every torturous hour in front of her tonight. The only thing better than seeing it in seriously faded Levi’s would be seeing it naked.

  “Hey,” Adonis said. “You gonna ogle my brother all night, or tell me why you’re banging down one of my doors?”

  They w
ere brothers? No way. Adonis was all...well, Adonis. The other guy was tall, dark and dirty.

  Fantasy Man peered over his injured shoulder. Shrewd, almost angry eyes lasered on her, just as dark as his near-black hair. A chunk of the inky locks had escaped his ponytail and fell over his forehead. His closely cropped beard gave him a sinister and deadly edge that probably kept most people at a distance, but his lips could lull half the women in Texas through hell if it meant they’d get a taste.

  Viv shook her head and coughed while her mind clambered its way up from Smuttville. “Um...” Her heart thrummed to the point she thought her head would float off her shoulders, and her tongue was so dry it wouldn’t work right. “I think my sister’s passed out in there. I just want to get her home.”

  Adonis knocked on the door and gave the knob a much firmer twist than Viv had. “Zeke, toss me the keys off the desk.”

  Before either of the men could move, the lock on the door popped and the door creaked open a few inches. “Vivie?” Callie’s mascara-streaked face flashed a second before the door slipped shut again.

  Months of training kicked in and Viv lurched forward, easing open the door and slipping inside. “I’ve got it now. Give me a minute to get her cleaned up and gather her stuff.”

  Adonis blocked the door with his foot. The black, fancy cowboy boots probably cost more than a month’s mortgage payment, which seemed a shame considering it didn’t look like she’d be able to pay her next one. “You sure you don’t need help?”

  “Nope.” She snatched a few towels out of the dispenser and wetted them, keeping one eye on Callie where she semi-dozed against the wall. “We’ve done this before. I just need a few minutes and a clear path.”

  “All right. My name’s Trevor if you need me. You know where we are if you change your mind.” He eased his foot away, grinned and shook his head.

  “Oh!” Viv caught the door before it could close all the way and pulled the bar tab out of her pocket. “My sister ran up a tab. Could you hold this at the bar for me and let me pay it after I get her out to the car? I need to grab my purse first.”