More often than not, Clint Mason has his foot firmly wedged in his mouth, which tends to get him in plenty of hot water with the ladies. Although his laid back good ole’ Southern charm does not fly far with the female population of Cedar Tree, the big burly contractor hides his dark side well.
The only one Beth Franklin allows herself to rely on is Beth, and so far that has served her well. Just when her son disappears after dropping his little guy off on her doorstep, her life seems to spiral out of control. For the first time ever, fearing for his safety, the fiercely independent waitress is forced to be on the receiving end of a helping hand. That’s not easy for her, especially since the shovel-sized hand belongs to a man whose approach has run hot and cold the last year, leaving her feeling off balance. With a steady and commanding force, he exposes her softer side, while doing everything he can to keep her and those close to her safe.
**Due to some content of a sexually explicit nature, this book is recommended for a mature audience only.**
“A gentleman would’ve offered to do that for you, but when you bend over with that fine ass on display, I suddenly don’t feel so gentlemanly anymore.” His breath tickles my ear and my body freezes in the spot. Mortification and arousal do battle for supremacy while I struggle for a smart come back. All I manage is an illiterate grunt, before slipping around the trunk of the car, keeping my head down to hide the telltale blush. His low chuckle follows me all the way into the driver’s seat, and that’s where my indignant self comes alive. “What’s with you?” I blurt out the minute his fine ass hits the seat beside me. “For days, no, make that weeks since you’ve woken up, you’ve been mostly a grumpy ass. And now suddenly you’re going all sexy and shit. The hot and cold routine is giving me hot flashes,” I mumbled the last, but apparently he hears because the car fills with the best sound I’ve heard in months—Clint throwing his head back and laughing without restrictions. I can’t help but look over and take in the strong column of his throat and the strong white teeth showing between his lips. Fuck, those lips. “Sexy and shit?” I lift my eyes from his mouth and find him looking at me with one eyebrow raised in question. “Seriously? That’s what sticks from all I said?” “Well, no. The hot flashes made an impression too.” He winks. He bloody winks.
Video Excerpt 2:
EXCERPT 2 for reading:
I watch her puttering around the kitchen wondering whether I should call her on the strange mood she’s been in since she got home. It’s not even nine-thirty yet, by all accounts early for a Saturday night and what better way to spend it than try and make some headway with this stubborn woman. “You okay, Beth? You’ve been a bit off since you got home from the diner, is it that time of the month?” With a clatter the spoon she was holding to scoop coffee grinds drops to the counter and I realize in that moment I probably just fucked up again. “Say what?” Damn that woman can look angry. “I just meant that you seemed a bit off, like you weren’t feeling well or something.” I struggle to recover but once unleashed, there is no escaping the wrath of Beth. “I’m off and so being a woman it must be my time of the month? Un-fucking-believable! You are such a Neanderthal, Clint. What do you call it when a guy is ‘off’, huh? Oh wait, that’s right, men stronger than that, right? Not bothered by ‘little’ things that would affect only us ‘fragile’ women?” The sarcasm is dripping off and before I have a chance to throw up a defense, she’s back in action, the coffee spoon clutched in her hand, waving around like a weapon. “For your information, buster, I haven’t had a period since the doctor removed my chicken coop twelve years ago!” I swear I try to follow what she’s saying and I think I’m doing okay until she brings up a chicken coop. Confused I shake my head and repeat it back to her. “Chicken coop?” For a minute I think the dramatic eye roll is all I’ll get for an answer, when in reality she’s just gathering steam. Fucked up as it may be, it makes me harder than steel to see her all riled up. My cock is straining behind my zipper to the point of serious self-mutilation. “Oh. Em. Gee. Yes Clint. Chicken coop. The works. The baby factory. I had a hysterectomy, you baboon!” Okay, sue me, but all I can think right now is the promise of sliding into her without the barrier of a condom between us. Fuck yeah.
EXCERPT 3 for reading:
Her hands on her rounded hips in challenge, she stirs the darker side of me. A challenge like that is not wasted on me and before she can blink I am on her. My arms pull her tight into my body, one hand sliding down to clasp that luscious ass and the other one tugging at the damn elastic band in her hair so I can weave my finger through. Eyes wide and mouth opening in what I assume to be protest, I take away that option forcing her to swallow her words when I slam my mouth down on hers. Hands that were braced against my chest in rejection, slowly curl to find purchase in my shirt as my mouth eats at hers in a dance for the upper hand. I win. Her whimper along with the moulding of her body to mine shows me that underneath that bristly fierce creature lives a woman who craves giving up control. Who despite the tight reigns she keeps on her life and everyone in it, secretly wants to let go. The knowledge that I’m able to bring that out in her makes my chest swell with emotion. Fuck yeah. With Beth wedged between my body and the counter I hold her head in place with my hand tangled in her hair, while the other hand goes exploring. Over her soft hips to the dip of her waist, skimming the slight swell of her stomach I can feel her suck in, to the weight of her breast overflowing my palm. I pull back slightly, leaving my lips barely touching hers and will her eyes to open to mine. I need to see her reaction as I use thumb and forefinger to sharply pinch and tug on her nipple poking through the lace of her bra. The sharp hiss and instant darkening of her chocolate brown eyes tells me enough. “Bed,” I mumble against her mouth. “I need my mouth on you in the worst possible way and I’ll end up on my face if we don’t get horizontal right fucking now.”
BLP REVIEW – Tracy
You’ve heard how “things get better with age” like a good wine or a single malt (my favourite!!) well, personally I think this wee phrase so applies to the Cedar Tree series – in both the books and the characters!!!
Upper Hand is Clint and Beth’s story and what a wee corker it is!!! (back to booze again!!)
When we were first introduced to Clint I thought he was just gonna be a nice guy with a hellish case of constant foot in mouth but I was fairly off base with that assumption… Sure, he did have a habit of saying what sprang to mind without considering how it sounded or was likely to be construed but it was usually with good intentions and no malice. He’s really a sweetheart (in is own ‘foot in gob’ fashion) who supports Beth through everything thrown at her – his relationship with her grandson was fab and brought out another side of him. Freya had me laughing often with his comments and thoughts, his character is really quite funny!
….and so to Beth. Now here’s the thing…. Beth isn’t up there as one of my favourite Cedar Tree gals – I wasn’t totally enamored with her but she did grow on me as the book progressed and I got to understand why she often acted the way she did at times … I just felt she was too hard on Clint, she blew a tad too hot and cold at points for me – don’t get me wrong yeah, she had a helluva lot going on and had had a hard time in her past but occasionally I found myself thinking “hell woman, the guy cares for you and is doing his best, cut him some slack why don’t you” and I hate to admit that I did think Clint should have cut his losses and given up on her when it looked like he’d finally had enough of her pissiness and attitude… but in the end I was glad he hadn’t throw the towel in!
As ever with the series, the story was gripping, packed with mystery, action and intrigue and the heat level was once again turned up to full blast – damn, Clint & Beth were hot in the bedroom! One of my favourite things about Freya’s books is that the characters aren’t all successful, wealthy, smokin’ hot, perfect young things – I like that they’ve got issues, hangups, history and life experience. In Upper Hand we got caught up with the Cedar Tree gang and got to see them in action, doing what they do best – I love how they are there for each other and nothing is ever too much trouble, they are a real family (even though it is one of choice and not blood). We met Jed, Clint’s brother and found out why their relationship was as bad as it was – that was something I wasn’t entirely expecting, thought I had kinda guessed part of the reason…
All in all, even though our main lady didn’t completely win me over, I loved Upper Hand and it was a great addition to the series. I can’t wait to read Malachi’s book and find out just who his love interest is going to be!!
Upper Hand gets a solid 4.5* from me. xx
What Others Are Saying:
I just took a wonderful trip back to Cedar Tree. Freya Barker is a brilliant, creative, and freaking amazing writer. I love her stories. I love her characters. She delivers another great addition to the series. ~ Goodreads Review
This is my second Freya Barker book and I loved it! Her writing style is so down to earth and it’s a refreshing change from all the fluffy stories I come across. Her characters are just people, not glamour dolls. ~ Goodreads Review
The suspense plot line is well thought out and paced. Love this series and am anxious to read more from this author. ~ Goodreads Review
I love the excellent mix of romance, humor, and mystery that is woven through the book. A page turner from beginning to end. Definitely recommend! ~ Goodreads Review
About The Author
Freya Barker craved reading about ‘real’ people, those who are perhaps less than perfect, but just as deserving of romance, hot monkey sex and some thrills and chills in their lives – So she decided to write about them. Always creative, from an early age on she danced and sang, doodled, created, cooked, baked, quilted and crafted. Her latest creative outlets were influenced by an ever-present love for reading. First through blogging, then cover art and design, and finally writing. Born and raised in the Netherlands, she packed her two toddlers, and eight suitcases filled with toys to move to Canada. No stranger to new beginnings, she thrives on them. With the kids grown and out in the world, Freya is at the ‘prime’ of her life. The body might be a bit ramshackle, but the spirit is high and as adventurous as ever. Something you may see reflected here and there in some of her heroines…. none of who will likely be wilting flowers.
More often than not, Clint Mason has his foot firmly wedged in his mouth, which tends to get him in plenty of hot water with the ladies. Although his laid back good ole’ Southern charm does not fly far with the female population of Cedar Tree, the big burly contractor hides his dark side well.
The only one Beth Franklin allows herself to rely on is Beth, and so far that has served her well. Just when her son disappears after dropping his little guy off on her doorstep, her life seems to spiral out of control. For the first time ever, fearing for his safety, the fiercely independent waitress is forced to be on the receiving end of a helping hand.
That’s not easy for her, especially since the shovel-sized hand belongs to a man whose approach has run hot and cold the last year, leaving her feeling off balance. With a steady and commanding force, he exposes her softer side, while doing everything he can to keep her and those close to her safe.
EXCERPT
“What the fuck, Ma? You’re shacking up now? What are you getting out of this? You know he’s just using you, haven’t you learned anything?”
“Dylan! You’re waking the neighborhood, would you simmer down?” Beth tries to keep the little boy in her arms calm while facing off with her son.
“Who is using her?” I turn to Dylan with my eyebrow raised. “From what I can see, you’re the one who calls her at the butt crack of dawn, expecting her to drop everything and come running. And then you have the gall to brow beat her and question her or me about motives?” I’m seething and clenching the handles on the walker tight enough to turn my knuckles white. It’s that or lay that snot nosed, self-righteous punk out on his ass.
“Clint…” Beth puts a moderating hand on my arm, which only pisses me off more.
“You know you shouldn’t let anyone talk to you like that. As if no one can see you for more than a means to an end. I don’t care if he’s your son, he has no right to berate you like that. Come on, let’s take that baby home. Little thing’s about to fall asleep on you.” I point out, watching the little boy fighting to keep his eyes open on his grandma’s shoulder.
“And you,” I turn back to Dylan. “You should grow the hell up. Sounds like you’ve had a rough night and I get that you’re overwhelmed, but you have no fucking right to take it out on the woman who is saving your ass. And from what I can tell, it isn’t the first time either. Am I right?” From the way the kid lowers his eyes and the slump of his shoulders I can tell he’s run out of steam. That boy’s got troubles and I get a sneaky suspicion it’s more than his wife leaving. Watching him wrap his arms around his mom and son, that suspicion is only fueled when I hear him talking in a low voice.
“Sorry Ma. I’m sorry, it’s just all a fucking mess. I’ll sort it—I promise—just look after Max for me will ya? I’ll be in touch.” And with a kiss on his son’s head and only a brief glance in my way, he walks to straight his truck ignoring his mother’s plea, looking like he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Yup, he’s got trouble. I make up my mind to put a bug in Gus’s ear, see what he can find out.
I turn to find Beth standing a little forlorn on her front step with a now sleeping baby in her arms, watching her son drive off, and the worry is etched on her face. She knows it too.
“Let’s get the baby home,” I say again and her eyes snap to mine.
“But—“
“Let’s get off the lawn, go back to my place, put the little one down and figure it out over coffee. Okay?”
She simply nods and looks around her at the carseat and bag that were left behind on her steps. She tries to balance Max on her shoulder while making a grab for the car seat.
“Here, give that to me,” I reach for the seat and plop it on top of the walker. Beth follows behind with Max and the bag.
“I’ve got to install his carseat,” Beth points out.
“That’s just gonna wake him up. Give him to me.” I slide in the back seat and hold out my arms. After a brief hesitation Beth leans in to deposit Max in my arms and his little baby body curls up against me easily. For a moment when Beth backs up our eyes meet and a wan smile slips on her lips.
“That baby looks good on you, big guy,” she teases and I growl in response which only makes the smile brighter. Good.
About the Author:
Freya Barker craved reading about ‘real’ people, those who are perhaps less than perfect, but just as deserving of romance, hot monkey sex and some thrills and chills in their lives – So she decided to write about them.
Always creative, from an early age on she danced and sang, doodled, created, cooked, baked, quilted and crafted. Her latest creative outlets were influenced by an ever-present love for reading. First through blogging, then cover art and design, and finally writing.
Born and raised in the Netherlands, she packed her two toddlers, and eight suitcases filled with toys to move to Canada. No stranger to new beginnings, she thrives on them.
With the kids grown and out in the world, Freya is at the ‘prime’ of her life. The body might be a bit ramshackle, but the spirit is high and as adventurous as ever. Something you may see reflected here and there in some of her heroines…. none of who will likely be wilting flowers.
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