by Kensie King
“What are you doing?” I hissed.
“Talking. He’s cute. And did you see how he blushed? Damn, I—”
“Fox.”
Fox ducked his chin to hide his grin. “Well, he is cute. I can see why you’re interested.”
“That’s right, I am interested. But he’s spending more time talking to you than he is to me.”
Fox met my eyes. “That’s because he’s nervous as hell. Can’t you tell?”
I ventured a quick glance over my shoulder and saw Noah twisting the stem of his wine glass round and round.
“Try to get him to open up,” Fox suggested. “He’s interested—it’s obvious.”
“How is it obvious?”
“Because he was talking more to me than you. That makes sense. He’s too nervous to talk to you. I’m a good distraction.”
I frowned. I didn’t like that either. Fox was a good-looking guy. I didn’t want him to be that good of a distraction. But maybe he was right.
Fox made a shooing motion. “Come on. Relax. Talk to him like you talk to me. I’ll bring over a bottle of wine and an appetizer to get you started.”
My shoulders relaxed. “Okay.”
I walked back to the table with the new and hopefully improved plan. I hadn’t realized how nervous I was as well. I’d waited nearly five years to show Noah how I felt.
Now, I was worried he didn’t feel the same way.
But I had to try or I’d never know. So I sat across from Noah again and put on a smile that I hoped would set him at ease.
Chapter 7
Fox brought us a bottle of wine, which fortunately gave me something to do with my hands. It also started to relax me.
Brady was smiling his sexy smile and all the sudden this was starting to look like a real date. And I was starting to believe that was exactly what he’d intended.
Get a grip, I told myself. Brady Belle was not interested in me that way.
“I’m curious,” Brady said, “what else you write besides children’s books. Anything I would know?”
My cheeks heated. No way. “It’s—I write under a pen name.”
“Oh.” He leaned in. “That sounds intriguing. Can you tell me your pen name?”
I shook my head and used the line I always used when people asked. “It’s a secret. Only my agent and my editor know.”
His lips curved. “Now I’m really curious.”
I laughed. Of course he was. He’d probably die of shock if I told him what else I wrote. My children’s books were chapter books for middle schoolers. Adventure. Completely tame and fun. And innocent.
But my other books, my secret ones, were full of love and sex and forbidden romances. Steamy as hell.
But mostly, I was embarrassed to tell Brady because he was the inspiration for many of those romances.
“Damn.” Brady took a sip of his wine. “Maybe after another glass you’ll tell me.”
I shook my head. “No way. I’m good at keeping secrets.”
“Seems like. Maybe if I tell you one of my secrets, you’ll tell me yours.”
I lifted my eyebrows. “That sounds promising, but…”
“Noah,” he said, voice low. Just the sound of my name on his tongue gave me shivers. “It’s a fair trade.”
If he kept saying my name and talking to me like that, I’d probably tell him anything he wanted to know. But this one was my ultimate secrets and I wasn’t going to budge that easily.
“How about you tell me yours and then I’ll decide?”
He grinned and poured more wine into my glass. I hadn’t even realized it was empty. “That doesn’t seem fair.”
“Life isn’t fair,” I reminded him.
He released a sigh. “That much is true. Then tell me other things.”
“Wh—what other things?”
To my surprise, he reached out, fingers touching the back of my hand that rested on the table. “Like…if you’re just nervous to be around me or it’s that you’re not interested.”
My lips parted. Hell, that had come out of nowhere.
“I’m not trying to pressure you,” Brady said quickly. “I understand if you’re not—you know… or, maybe you’re already with someone?”
I choked on a laugh, then swallowed more wine to make the tickle in my throat go away. My mind was whirling with amazement. “I’m not with someone else.”
And I hadn’t been for years. Long, long years that had been spent writing romances instead of living them. But I’d convinced myself that was for the best.
It was hard to keep convincing myself of that when Brady was sitting across from me, his lips curved and eyes locked on mine. Fuck. This wasn’t just an apology dinner.
What had I gotten myself into?
“Are you interested in being with someone?” Brady asked, fingers still on the back of my hand. “Because, like I said, I don’t want to pressure you.”
A thousand thoughts traveled through my mind, like how I was only here for the week, and how I barely knew him. But none of that seemed to matter right now.
“I am,” I told him.
“Me?” he asked.
My cheeks heated, but I nodded. His hand closed over mine. I intertwined my fingers with his. “But…”
“Uh oh,” Brady said with a small smile. “There’s more.”
“No, it’s not—I mean. I don’t really do relationships…”
“Why not?” he asked, looking genuinely curious.
I studied his face, memorizing each detail for my stories later. His strong jaw, covered by a beard—one that I wanted to reach out and touch. Kind eyes. Muscular shoulders and arms. It just didn’t seem real.
“I guess,” I told him honestly, “relationships just don’t seem worth it. They always end badly and someone ends up hurt.”
His lips turned down in a frown. “I can see that. But that’s not always true.”
“In my experience, it has been.” And it was all around me. Everyone out there was either getting divorced, eating a pint of ice cream because they’d been hurt by their lover, or sitting alone in their apartment because they couldn’t find a lover.
“Maybe, at least for this week, you’ll try to let me convince you otherwise?” Brady asked.
“This week?” I asked, surprise in my voice.
Brady’s smile returned. “Yes. I’ll need more than just tonight. I know you have to work, but maybe you can make some time here and there.”
I could definitely make time. But did that make sense?
“I see your hesitation,” Brady said. He ran his thumb over my knuckles, giving me the chills. “But I promise it will be worth it.”
My throat dried. I imagined it would be. But was I up for that? Even if we had this amazing week, what then? Then we went back to our real lives and my point was proven.
There was no such thing as real love. Not in this world.
“All right,” Brady released me, taking the warmth from his hand. “I see this is going to be a challenge. No problem. We have the rest of tonight.”
He spared me from making an answer, and it was a good thing. I was on the verge of saying yes. After all, how many times in your life did you get swept away by a man who wanted to distract you the entire week to prove to you that relationships—or love—could work out?
My heart warred with my mind. But Brady didn’t seem deterred. He leaned back when the food arrived.
At least I wasn’t as nervous now. And if I was here, I might as well enjoy myself. And do more research for my novel.
“I think it’s your turn to tell me about you,” I told Brady.
He speared his fork in a piece of salmon, looking more comfortable now that we’d gotten through the awkward stage of the first part of the date. God, I couldn’t even believe I was using the word date in regards to Brady Belle.
“Anything specific?” he asked, eyes flicking up to mine.
My body heated under that gaze. “Uh…how about how you ended up working here?”<
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“That’s a long story.”
I smiled at him. “I like stories.”
His eyes warmed like melted chocolate. “Can’t really say no when you’re looking at me like that.”
My heart fluttered. Totally cliché, like the things I wrote about in my stories. But it blew my mind that he actually thought about me that way.
Brady smiled when he saw I was at a loss for words. “Okay, well. Maybe I’ll give you the short version.”
“Any version is good.”
“Derek and Fox are sort of my brothers,” he said.
“Sort of?”
“We had the same foster mom—and dad, but I wasn’t around him for very long.” He sighed. “He died about six months after I went to stay with the Belles.” He swallowed, and I could see that it was a hard topic for him. “Anyway, I was in foster homes for most of my childhood and it was…hard.” He flashed a smile that looked pained. “Mostly because of who I am. A lot of my foster families didn’t want a gay son with an attitude problem.”
I winced. That had to have been hard. My parents were separated when I came out and both took it roughly but my sister was supportive and that had been enough.
“But Clary Belle had a gay brother and she said that we were all God’s creatures and she loved us all the same. That was why she took in kids who were, shall we say, less desirable.”
“Brady,” I whispered, hating that that was how he saw himself. Or that he even had to think that people felt that way about him in the past. “I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. “Don’t be. Once I went to live with Clary, everything changed. I met Derek and Fox—there were others, too. And now this story has gotten longer than I meant it to be.”
“I like it,” I told him simply.
He reached out and took my hand again. “Good. Clary passed away about seven years ago and Derek wanted to build this place—a resort like one she’d always talked about making. Fox and I wanted to be a part of it, so here I am.”
My heart went out to him. It was a good thing they were doing here, and it made it that much more special that it was in the name of someone they loved and respected.
We finished dinner shortly after that and Brady collected his umbrella to walk me back to my cabin. He offered his arm again, and I held on, more because I wanted to touch him than that I needed to.
“I had a good time at dinner,” Brady told me once we reached the cabin.
I could hear the water from the lake lapping up the shore. And once we stopped, so did the mist.
We hiked up the steps, Brady holding tight, and then stopped at the top. He tilted his face to the sky. “Well, look at that.”
I followed his gaze and saw a patch of clear sky overhead, black and sprinkled with a few stars.
“They say we might even have some sunshine tomorrow,” Brady said.
When I looked back, his eyes were on me, fathomless and full of heat.
“I had a good time at dinner, too,” I told him belatedly, my voice quiet.
His hand came up to cup my cheek. “Please say you’ll make some time for me tomorrow.”
“I—uh, I think I can find some time.”
His lips curved. “Good.”
“If you share that secret with me.”
His laugh rumbled in his chest. “Okay.”
“Really?”
His eyes dipped to my lips. “Really.”
We were suspended in a long moment of silence before he leaned in. And then it was like my world exploded. His lips touched mine, soft at first, seeking. I opened my mouth and his tongue brushed mine.
A groan slipped from his lips, then sweet went to steamy. Just like one of my books. In a flash, Brady had backed me up against the cabin, and my jacket caught on the rough wood.
One of his hands tangled in the back of my hair while the other still held my jaw, keeping me in place while his tongue plundered my mouth.
God, it was so sexy, and so not real. It couldn’t be.
But when he pressed his body against mine, his cock hard against my belly, I knew this wasn’t a scene in a story.
I whimpered slightly at the feel, something I forgot how badly I missed until I had it again.
“Noah,” Brady breathed, “did I hurt you?”
“No.”
“Your ankle?” he asked.
“What ankle?”
He chuckled, and I felt the vibration of it against my lips. His body still pinned me against the house, but now his eyes were locked on mine. He moved his thumb to brush my cheek, catching slightly on the short stubble.
“Tomorrow,” he said. “You’ll have time?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“Good.”
And then he released me so abruptly, I almost fell down the side of the cabin. My legs were like jelly. I’d never been kissed so abruptly and with such heat before.
“I’ll wait until you get inside,” Brady said.
And a gentleman, too. This was definitely going in my story.
“Goodnight,” I told him just inside the door.
“’Night.”
Once the door was shut, I heard his boots walking down the stairs—the stairs he’d fixed for me—and sat heavily on the couch. My phone buzzed from my pocket.
Shit. It was probably Nellie.
Probably calling with another divorce crisis.
I sighed and leaned back on the couch. Not now. I wasn’t going to deal with that yet, not until the haze of what had happened tonight faded.
Right now, I was going to live in the fantasy and dream about what Brady and I were going to do tomorrow.
Chapter 8
I raced to get my work done in the morning, hoping to have most of the afternoon free to spend with Noah. Last night had gone better than expected after he’d started opening up.
And after I’d gotten over my nerves.
And that kiss…damn, I couldn’t wait to get my hands back on Noah.
I’d been waiting so long, long enough to picture every single way I’d kiss him, touch him, make him mine.
Today we’d have some privacy and I was going to take advantage of that. Maybe try to get him to tell me his secret while we were at it.
I walked around from my cabin where I’d stopped to grab the lunch I was bringing for us and stopped by the office.
Derek looked up from a stack of sheets placed before him. “Hey.”
I nodded. “You still trying to figure out who to hire?”
“Yeah. Fox wasn’t much help. He’d rather flirt than take this seriously,” Derek grumbled.
I closed my mouth. I’d been about to tell him I was taking time off to spend with Noah—so basically flirt with one of our guests.
“What?” Derek asked when he saw the look on my face.
“Nothing. Just thought I’d run up to the site for a bit. Check things out.”
“There a problem? I thought things were going well.”
“They are. I was just going to stop in and…” I shrugged.
Derek stared at the papers again, not seeming to care either way. “You might as well just come out with it. I’ll find out sooner or later.”
“I’m taking Noah there. To look around—maybe have some lunch.”
Derek’s head came back up. I swore I saw the flicker of a smile before he nodded. “All right. Thanks for letting me know.”
“I’ll have my phone in case something comes up.”
Derek nodded again and went back to his papers. “Yeah, I’ll make sure to call you if we have a handyman emergency.”
I chuckled and walked back outside. It had been known to happen. Water leak or broken door—something that couldn’t wait to be fixed. But on today of all days, I hoped that didn’t happen.
Looking up at the sky, I smiled to myself. No rain yet and most of the clouds were staying far away. I couldn’t have asked for a better day to spend with Noah.
Instead of walking, I pulled my truck down to his cabin. We could get
to the site on foot but I didn’t want Noah hurting his ankle again.
He was waiting outside on the porch, eyes crinkled in a smile behind his glasses. It was a blow to the chest. That smile was for me.
In the beginning, way back when I first saw Noah, it had stirred something in me. I thought it was just lust. And definitely plain old-fashioned attraction. The next time it had grown slightly. Noah was geeky and cute and shy—all things that made me want to get to know him better.
It had progressed from there. But now, after spending a whole evening with him, I felt more. I felt like there could be something bigger here.
“Morning,” I said, getting out of the truck. “I thought you’d still be writing.”
“I took a break to come out here and look at the water, and then you showed up.”
I grinned. Okay, so he hadn’t been waiting for me, but he was still being open. He didn’t seem as scared to talk to me. It was a start.
“Ready to go?” I asked, stopping at the bottom of the steps. I held a hand out, waiting for him to reach for it. “Be careful.”
Noah smiled again. “My ankle feels better.”
When he reached the last step, I stepped in front of him. His gaze was almost level with mine, and I locked eyes with him. “You sure?”
He nodded, lips parting. I kept it safe and kissed him on the cheek instead of the lips, even though I was dying to feel his mouth on mine again.
“I had a good time last night,” I told him.
“Me too.”
I took his hand. “Good. Let’s go.”
“Where are we going?” Noah asked once we were both seated in the car.
“I have something I want to show you.”
He glanced over and pushed his glasses up on his nose—a completely endearing gesture. “Your secret?”
I smiled at him, happy that we had something to share, and that he was taking time away from work to spend with me. “Yes. Would you like to take a guess?”
He looked around as I drove away from the resort and further north, on a wet paved road surrounded by trees that stretched to the sky and nearly blocked out the sun that was shining down.
“It’s where you buried a dead body,” he said, throwing me a laughing smile. I joined in his laughter. “Your secret fishing spot.”