Homecoming Hearts Series Collection

by HJ Welch

  “Trying not to,” he replied with a sigh. The clay felt cool as she smoothed it over his cheeks with a brush. “The Grand looked like an ideal place to come and forget everything,” he admitted.

  She snorted and clicked her tongue again, like she was popping bubble gum. “That’s because everybody else went and forgot this place, too,” she said. Ashby looked up to see her shake her head upside down at him. “Swish young fella like yourself would have loved it round here in its heyday. Why on earth you’d want to come here when you could go to Aspen, I don’t know.”

  “Peace and quiet,” Ashby said simply.

  Skye hummed. “There’s peace and quiet, then there’s tumbleweeds in a graveyard,” she said frankly.

  Ashby chewed his lip as she brushed the clay between his eyes. “Why is it so run down, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  Skye chuckled ruefully. “Well, you didn’t hear this from me,” she said, clearly eager to gossip. “But you come across Bob yet, the manager? He’s the sad-looking fella you’ll find propping up the bar most evenings. Balding, same old gray tie every day.”

  Ashby shook his head, but Skye waved the brush at him, dangerously close to flicking clay on his white bathrobe.

  “You’ll spot him soon enough,” she continued. “So, rumor has it his wife’s putting him through a nasty divorce even though their kid’s coming out the other side of chemo.” She tutted and dabbed more of the face mask onto Ashby’s chin. “Some people. Anyway, I don’t think his heart’s in it anymore. We can only work with what he gets the owner to give us, and lately, that ain’t been a whole lot.”

  Ashby hummed. That was a real shame. He listened to Skye chatter on for a while about how things used to be, thinking of what Maeve had told him as well. The more he saw of the Grand Resort, the more he was convinced it just needed a little love.

  Ashby’s fears that Skye was going to pounce on him were further allayed when she inspected his hands. “Urgh, you gay boys do keep your nails so nice,” she said. “Would you like me to tidy your cuticles and do a quick oil massage?”

  Although it was a little presumptuous that straight guys couldn’t have nice nails, Ashby knew she meant well and accepted the compliment. “That would be wonderful,” he said sincerely.

  While she busied herself moving her nail treatment station, Ashby chewed his lip. Surely, it couldn’t hurt to ask? Skye seemed to know so much about the resort.

  “I made a friend this morning,” he lied as she began filing. “But I didn’t catch his name. Tall, dark hair down to his shoulders, big muscles. He didn’t seem like a guest.” Or at least, Ashby assumed from the familiar greeting Kadie had given him.

  Skye’s perfectly penciled eyebrows slowly climbed up towards her hair. “Trenton Charles’s boy?” she asked. “No way. He’s back?”

  “Um,” said Ashby. “Maybe? He had luggage with him. And a puppy. He was wearing a black leather jacket despite it being arctic outside.” Even thinking about that jacket put Ashby in danger of popping out of his robe.

  “Dreamy eyes, muscles for days?” Skye sighed. “That’s him. Oh my god, I can’t believe he’s here. I’ll have to get an autograph.”

  Ashby frowned at her. “Autograph?”

  Her eyes went wide. “Uh, yeah,” she said. “You did recognize him, didn’t you?” At Ashby’s blank face, Skye gasped. “He’s TJ Charles! The movie star. It’s, like, this place’s only claim to fame.”

  Ashby blinked. “TJ Charles?”

  Oh no.

  Yes, he was aware TJ Charles was a film star, but Ashby had not caught on that he was who he’d dropped to the feet of a couple of hours ago. He really should have realized he’d been flirting with a former member of Below Zero, though. How had he not registered it was one of his teenage crushes he’d been babbling to?

  “Ah,” he said, shame washing over him. “Well, that’s embarrassing.”

  Skye snorted. “Come on. Tell me all about it, babe. Then I’ll tell you how I once fell into the lap of Zac Efron at a Bar Mitzvah.”

  “No?” Ashby said, scandalized and delighted all at once.

  She nodded. “He’s a friend of a friend. So, come on, what did you say to our little TJ?”

  Ashby sighed and recounted the whole cringe-worthy story from the lobby. But as he was describing it, he realized it wasn’t all that bad. It was TJ’s fault if he was too miserable to take delight in a puppy. Ashby promised himself he wasn’t going to let himself worry about it any longer.

  Even if TJ Charles was still just as hot as when Ashby had stuck his posters on his bedroom wall. Hotter, even, now he was a fully grown man.

  Ashby warred with himself as he bid farewell to Skye with the promise to come back soon. He needed to banish TJ from his mind. Yeah, he was hot. But he was also rude. Ashby had no time for that. Besides, he was probably just passing through the resort and Ashby wouldn’t have to see him ever again. At least, not in the flesh.

  With that bittersweet thought in mind, he made his plans for the evening. After a short nap – he blamed the massage as much as the lingering jetlag – he showered and took himself over to the restaurant for dinner with a book. He would rather have had his old, paperback copy of Pride and Prejudice to keep him company, but if he’d packed all the books he wanted to read this holiday, there would have been nothing else in his suitcase. He begrudgingly admitted that his eReader was actually pretty brilliant.

  He people-watched while he read about Lizzie Bennett for the umpteenth time and ate, enjoying a glass or two of a rather nice Malbec wine. As Skye had mentioned, there was a gentleman at the bar who appeared quite down-in-the-dumps. Bob, Ashby guessed, the manager of the resort. He would probably be quite handsome for an older man if he didn’t look like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. Wearing a frayed ski jacket and worn jeans, he picked at his beer bottle label and dispassionately watched baseball on one of the TV screens.

  For a brief, horribly selfish moment, Ashby worried if that was how he was going to end up. Then he mentally slapped himself. Yes, he’d been through a tough breakup, but it was of his choosing and undoubtedly for the best. He was half this guy’s age and wasn’t facing anything nearly as bad as seeing a child through a long illness. Skye had assured Ashby the boy was out of the woods now, but a divorce on top of that was bound to be exhausting. No wonder the resort looked in dire need of love. Bob was in dire need of some love, too.

  “Carpe diem,” Ashby reminded himself for the hundredth time since he’d left Gordon. He was only twenty-four, and he needed to start seizing the day more so he didn’t end up lonely and unfulfilled.

  Starting with a nighttime swim.

  He’d fancied the idea since he’d arrived, and after his third glass of wine, he decided now was the time. The hotel’s heated, outdoor pool was open late so guests could enjoy a warm paddle surrounded by snow. It sounded scandalous to Ashby. Something that surely should have been against the rules. Which is precisely why he wanted to do it.

  Feeling tipsy and naughty, he went back to his room and put on his favorite tight swimming trunks. As it was dark and the hotel was low on guests, he figured he’d get away with no one seeing how skimpy they were. They left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Then he wrapped up in his robe once more and stuck his feet in his fluffy boots to head outside.

  The shock of the cold cleared out the cobwebs and sobered up Ashby immediately. He giggled in shock at the sharp contrast of temperature between indoors and out, scampering over to the coat hooks to shuck off his robe and step out of his boots.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he hissed, hopping and dancing his way across the snow into the warm waters of the pool with another laugh. It was more like a large jacuzzi with pressurized jets creating bubbles and currents around the edges. Ashby sighed as he sank down until only his head remained in the frigid air. “Magic,” he said softly to himself as the steam rose from the water all around him.

  There was a sauna house to the left that had a fo
ot of snow on its roof. Ashby was looking forward to giving that a go soon. Trees rose up beyond the fence, encircling the back of the resort. Pointed pines that climbed up the start of the mountainside, hinting to the summit lost in the darkness. Ashby sighed, feeling blissfully peaceful.

  Until he realized he wasn’t alone.

  As he turned and glanced to the right, he realized there was someone else bobbing in the corner of the rectangular pool, hidden initially by the steam. Someone familiar.

  “Oh, hello?” Ashby spluttered. Obviously, he wasn’t going to be able to play it cool, no matter when or where he saw TJ Charles. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there. I didn’t splash you, did I? It’s damned cold getting from the clothes rack to the water.”

  TJ was staring at him. His dark eyes were wide enough that Ashby could see a fair bit of the whites despite the gloom. “Uh…” he said.

  Fuck. Ashby had forgotten he was wearing the skimpiest damn swimwear ever invented. It was practically a thong. He blushed, wondering how much of his junk TJ had seen bouncing around when he’d run over the snow.

  “Sorry, I’m bothering you again,” Ashby mumbled.

  His knee-jerk reaction was to get out of the pool as fast as possible and take himself far away from TJ’s judgmental stare. But his pride refused to bow down to that. His body was also extremely against the idea of getting back out into the snow any time soon.

  So instead, he swam over to the opposite end of the pool, by the pine trees, and rested his hands on the stone edge. He stared up at the side of the magnificent mountain, trying to ignore TJ’s presence and enjoy himself.

  Only when he heard the splashing of water and the door to the main lodge swinging shut did Ashby finally relax again.

  Well, it seemed his unfortunate crush hadn’t left the resort just yet, after all.

  7

  Trent

  It was like the image of a certain almost-naked-British guy was seared into the back of Trent’s eyeballs. Every time he closed his eyes, his lithe body dashing across the snow appeared. Normally, Trent noticed other guys’ bodies in an abstract sort of way. Like, he thought about how much they did or didn’t work out to get their physique. But the Brit was like an otter or mythical elf. Lithe, slender, but with enough muscular definition so his body didn’t look skinny. Trent’s mind kept drifting back to him simply because he was incredibly attractive to look at.

  Which was weird, right? Trent could understand it if it had been a gorgeous girl in a bikini, her breasts bouncing as she jumped into the water, squealing in delight. But something about this guy’s ridiculous dash across the snow along with his willowy body clad only in the tightest, tiniest Speedos had taken up space in Trent’s brain and refused to leave.

  Maybe it was just unusual? He had an ethereal, androgynous sort of look about him, further tempting Trent to think he might have been a model. But his dorky nature didn’t really add up with that.

  It had annoyed Trent that he’d taken forever to get himself to sleep the first night in his cabin as he’d been so preoccupied with random thoughts about a strange dude. What was that about?

  By the time morning came, he felt like he hadn’t slept at all. It didn’t help that when he wasn’t thinking about the stranger he’d now crossed paths with twice, he was thinking about his dad. Yesterday’s reception had been far from ideal. But Trent would be willing to try as many times to smooth things out between them so long as his dad was looking after Merlin well enough.

  That was stupid, he told himself as he made coffee downstairs in the open kitchen part of the lodge. His dad would never mistreat any animal, let alone a dog. But Trent still wondered if he was feeling brave enough to visit his dad again so soon to check up on them both and allay his fears.

  He leaned against the kitchen counter in his sweatpants and hoodie, taking in what was going to be his home for the next couple of months. The cabin was starting to warm up now with a fire going in the fireplace. Trent was hoping he wouldn’t have to swaddle himself every night just to avoid freezing to death. He was used to sleeping in the nude.

  It would also mean he wouldn’t have to resort to evening swims to warm up in future. It would probably be best to avoid the pool for a while if that was where the British dude was going to be hanging out. Trent had embarrassed himself twice in front of the guy now, and he didn’t look forward to doing it a third time. He probably thought Trent was a total monosyllabic asshole.

  Aside from being freezing when he’d first entered yesterday, Trent had to admit he liked the staff cabin he’d been allocated. It was becoming cozier as the temperature crawled up, and Trent had to admit he’d always been a sucker for a log fire having grown up around snow. It happily crackled now as he padded around the main room of the cabin.

  The open plan of a kitchen, den and dining room all rolled into one made it feel even more intimate. The floors, walls and furnishings were all made of the same dark wood, but the sofa coverings, throw pillows and big fluffy rug by the fireplace were a pleasant cream. The lampshades and dining chair covers were a deep forest green. Artifacts from the local Arapaho tribe decorated the walls in a tasteful way. Trent was part Arapaho on his mom’s side, so he appreciated seeing her culture being treated respectfully. He suspected whoever lived here last had taken it upon themselves to spruce the place up, rather than relying on the resort to do it for them.

  Off from the main room was a bathroom and a single storage closet filled with spare bedding and cleaning products. Creaky wooden stairs led up to a half floor above where his double bed sat. There was a balcony that looked down on the rest of the cabin making the whole place feel connected. Trent kept finding himself idly walking over to it whenever he was getting dressed or undressed.

  Yes, he could see himself being happy enough here during his stay. At least there was internet and the TV had Netflix. If his dad refused to talk to him, he’d veg out and eat junk for a change. If Barry didn’t like what that did to his body, he’d just have to shove it.

  Not that Trent was planning on staying put for three months. In fact, he was already gearing up for his first snowboarding session. He felt electric with anticipation. Having spent a good chunk of his youth on the slopes when he wasn’t on a stage, he’d missed the simple joy of throwing himself down the side of a mountain over and over again.

  Being near the end of the season on what was already a quiet resort, the slopes were sparsely populated when Trent headed out midmorning. He’d bought his own snowboard and gear, ordering it to be delivered to the cabin along with his weights. If he was going to be at the resort for three months, he wasn’t going to mess around borrowing kit. He knew what the best brands to buy were thanks to his previous experience. As he took the lift up the side of the mountain to one of the medium slopes to ease himself back in, he felt comfortable blending in with the other skiers. Just an ordinary guy for once.

  The same could not be said for all the guests out on the snow.

  As the ski lift slowly brought him upward, Trent glanced down at the beginners’ slope. His eyes were immediately assaulted by a riotous jacket of a hot pink camouflage pattern, hot pink trousers, goggles and gloves, contrasted with a black snowboard and toque, complete with fluffy pom-pom. Trent would have assumed it was a woman, but the lift was close enough to the ground that when the person took off their hat and glasses, looking up as they took a breath, he could recognize them.

  It was the British dude.

  Trent sighed and looked away. Was he cursed to keep running into this guy everywhere he went? For some unfathomable reason, as soon as Trent realized it was the same guy, his mind went straight back to the image from the night before of his svelte body disappearing into the outdoor pool, tight black Speedos barely concealing his junk.

  “For fuck’s sake,” Trent muttered to himself.

  He’d seen countless guys in various stages of undress on numerous tours and sets. Hell, he himself hardly bothered to cover up if it was inconvenient and he was among fri
ends. His Below Zero buddies had seen it all, he had no doubt, and more to the point, no shame. He wasn’t judging this guy for practically skinny dipping, especially when he obviously had thought he was alone. So why was the image burned into Trent’s retinas?

  He shook his head and tried to push the issue aside. So what? He was a creative person, he found appeal in all kinds of different things. There was evidently something about this guy that had captured his imagination and that was it.

  Hurtling down the mountain on his first run in years helped to push all unessential thoughts from Trent’s mind. It was just him and the snow and it was blissful. His heart was pounding by the time he had ridden his way to the base again, despite it not being a tricky route. There was nothing quite like snowboarding.

  The distraction didn’t last though. When Trent rode the lift up a second time, the Brit was still struggling on the same patch of snow, falling over himself. And the third. By Trent’s fourth ride up, the guy had his phone out. From the way he was looking at it, Trent would have to guess he was watching online tutorials on how to ride a goddamned snowboard.

  He didn’t know why, but the sight irritated him. The guy was evidently clueless, but every time Trent rode past, he was doggedly trying again. It was obvious he hadn’t even attempted a dry slope before he’d brought himself out onto actual fucking snow.

  However, as much as Trent wanted to be annoyed by this guy, he couldn’t stop himself being impressed at his single-minded determination. He wasn’t letting that damn board beat him. It was endearing.

  Which is probably why Trent couldn’t stop himself on the next journey upward catching the lift to the beginners’ slope instead of the advanced one he’d been intending to try out.

  He felt bad for being a complete jerk to this guy, twice. He hadn’t deserved it either time. Trent wasn’t an asshole, he wasn’t. He was sick of the press and Hollywood and even his own dad making him out to be that way. Barry was right. He needed to start behaving more like himself before he ruined his reputation completely.