by Nomi Summers
Conquering the Heart of the Bad Boy
Knox Brother of Arbor Shores Book Three
Nomi Summers
Copyright © 2019 by Nomi Summers
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Write from the Heart Books
P.O. Box 66202
St. Pete Beach, FL 33736
Cover Design by Elizabeth Mackey Designs
ISBN-13: 978-1-7332773-4-1
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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
Epilogue
Also by Nomi Summers
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Chapter 1
Emma Woods rolled over in her bed, only to be greeted by a warm, wet tongue on the side of her face. She recognized this all too familiar morning routine well and knew that meant it was time to get up.
“No need for an alarm clock with you around, Zeke,” she told the large black Lab who was standing at her bedside, chin resting on her mattress, sad puppy dog eyes looking up at her, pleading for his breakfast.
She scratched the top of Zeke’s head and glanced at the clock on her nightstand: 6 a.m. Just like clockwork. She would swear this dog could tell time. She was convinced he was the smartest dog on earth, and she loved him for it. He was her protector, her confidante—her everything. She got Zeke nine years ago as a puppy, and it had been just the two of them in this great big house ever since.
Zeke made her feel safe, not that there was any cause for concern on Main Street in the heart of Arbor Shores. This small town was as safe as they came; the kind of town where you never lock your doors and you sleep with the windows open. Just as she had last night, and now the cool morning breeze was sweeping through the open window of her master suite. Sheer, white, floor-length curtains blew wildly as a gust of wind moved through the room. She sat up, closed her eyes, and took in a deep, invigorating breath. It was nearing the end of an Indian summer, and mornings were getting cooler again, just how she liked them.
Emma shuffled out of bed and straight to the shower. She got dressed and ready for the day ahead before making her way to the long staircase of her historic home. She ran her hand down the wood railing of the staircase as she descended and made a mental note that it needed to be sanded down before she ended up with a splinter. It sure could use a fresh coat of stain as well. Time was taking its toll on the old house, and it wasn’t quite the beauty it once had been when her parents owned it. Growing up here, it was a focal point of the town; the tallest white Victorian on Main Street. Up until their deaths, her parents had run a bed and breakfast out of it.
She remembered always having travelers in and out all summer long when the tourists flocked to Arbor Shores to take in all that the quaint, coastal Northern Michigan town had to offer. Each year, many of the same families returned, and she’d come to know them as her own extended family. But those times seemed so long ago; nobody had stayed in the guest rooms in years.
As she made her way into the kitchen—the same kitchen where her mother would prepare breakfast and fresh bread each day for their guests—a pang of guilt swept over her. Would her parents be ashamed of what had become of their beautiful home? It was their pride and joy, and she sure hadn’t done the place right. It had seemed far too much responsibility at the time for an eighteen-year-old girl. It just would’ve been too hard to keep the bed and breakfast up after they’d passed. Not knowing how to run the business, she’d closed the doors on the historic Hemlock House that fateful summer, and locked herself inside while she’d mourned her parents for a full year.
Entering the bright kitchen, she punched the brew button on the coffee pot she’d prepped the night before and made her way to the pantry to fill Zeke’s bowl. He followed behind her, tail wagging in anticipation. Just like every other morning, he ate while she brewed coffee, then they both went outside where she drank her coffee from the swinging bench on the front porch while Zeke wandered around the massive corner lot to greet passersby as they took their morning walks through town.
“Good morning, Mrs. Travis, Mr. Travis.” She waved to the elderly couple who lived down the block. They always took their morning stroll at the same time each day, hand in hand.
“Good morning, sweet Emma,” they both said in unison before reaching over the white picket fence to pet Zeke.
“Going to be a beautiful day,” she called out to them.
“Already is.” Mr. Travis smiled and waved before retrieving his wife’s hand and heading on their way. She watched them as they slowly disappeared down the block, and a jarring thought took over. Would she ever have a love like that? Or was she going to die alone in this big ole house? She dismissed the thought as soon as it came. That’s silly to worry about at only twenty-six years old. Surely, she’d find love someday. Right now, she was too busy with her growing business to date anyone seriously. Of course, she occasionally spent time with Aaron Reynolds, a local attorney, but something just seemed to be missing from their connection. So far, things had never gotten past the occasional dinner-and-a-movie phase.
She glanced at her watch and called out to Zeke, “I have to get to work, boy. Come on inside.” She put her coffee cup on the antique gossip bench that sat inside the foyer, and grabbed her purse. She gave Zeke one final pat before giving the front door a hard pull to try to latch it shut. She gave it three good shakes to the left and one more to the right before she finally heard it click. Just one more thing to add to her growing list of home improvements.
Emma made her way down Main Street toward NovelTea Books and Tea House, her business that sat only a few blocks from home. She loved the short walk through town every morning to get there. Main street was shaded by mature trees that lined the road, with historical homes adorned with meticulously manicured yards. Colorful flowers hung from pots on each porch, and the smell of sweet honeysuckle filled the air. At the end of the road, Lake Michigan glistened in the distance.
Once she made her way into town, a sense of pride rushed through her as she rounded the corner to see her business awaiting her arrival. Of course, Rose, her best employee, was already inside getting started on the baking for the morning rush of regulars who’d come in for a latte or one of their delicious baked goods that NovelTea was known for. One thing Emma got from her mother was a love for baking, and growing up, that’s something they’d always enjoyed together. So, when she opened her bookstore, it was only natural that she would add a bakery inside of it.
“Good morning, Emma,” Rose greeted her.
“Quiet morning, huh?” Emma asked, observing that there was only one customer sitting alone at a table by the window.
“Oh, it’s just that time of year. Kids are back in school, and most of the summer tourists have gone back downstate.”
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Rose was only trying to make her feel better, but the sad reality was the business was taking a hit. It was true that Arbor Shores was a seasonal town, but this year her sales were down even more than last September. With a mound of bills piling up on her desk, she needed to find a way to bring in some extra income for the slower months ahead.
“Well, it’s only going to get worse when winter hits and the tourists stop coming up on the weekends altogether.” She grabbed an apron from the rack and slipped it over her head, tying it at the waist.
“Nah, we have plenty of local regulars who will still be here during winter. Try not to worry about it.” Rose put down the rag she was holding and placed a comforting hand on Emma’s arm. Rose was a widow in her sixties and had been with her since she opened NovelTea. She was the first person Emma had hired for her new business, and the closest thing she had to a mother figure. Rose loved NovelTea almost as much as Emma. So much so that she worked six days per week, and always arrived early each morning to start the baking; Emma couldn’t adequately express the depth of her gratitude for Rose.
Problem was, if business didn’t pick up, she wouldn’t be able to afford to keep Rose on staff, and letting her go was the last thing she wanted to imagine. Rose was a fixture at NovelTea, and the customers loved her witty banter and warm presence. She got to know each customer personally, and always went out of her way to make sure life was easy on Emma. Emma wouldn’t have known what to do without her, so the thought of not having her around was one she was unwilling to entertain.
“Hey, how about we run some advertising in the Beacon?” Rose suggested. “We could put a coupon in it.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll think of something.” Emma flashed Rose her most confident smile and attempted to swallow the ball of uncertainty that had formed in her throat.
Chase Knox punched the throttle on his motorcycle and took the winding back roads at top speed. The crisp northern air felt good on his face, and he was enjoying the ride into Arbor Shores. Sweet nostalgia came flooding back, and he tried not to allow the hint of dread he was feeling over returning home to mix in with it.
Bittersweet.
That’s the only word that could describe his arrival. On one hand, he loved it here and had almost forgotten how beautiful Northern Michigan was, especially this time of year when fall was fighting its way into summer. The tall evergreens that lined the country roads filled the air with a familiar aroma, and off in the distance he could see the cobalt-blue waters of Lake Michigan glistening as his bike climbed to the top of each rolling hill. Wouldn’t be long now and he’d be arriving in his hometown. So far, this place was even better than he remembered, or maybe it’s just that you don’t appreciate somewhere until you’ve had a chance to miss it.
On the other hand, he’d left at just eighteen and hadn’t been back since. Now, in the wake of his father’s heart attack, it was as good a time as any to come home. The uncertainty of not knowing if his family would accept him tugged at him. Would anyone be happy to see him? Or would they be upset that they hadn’t been able to get ahold of him when his father was in the hospital last month? He was probably still the family outcast he’d always been, and he was in no rush to find out the answer to that question.
Growing up, his relationship with his father had never been good. Chase was always the black sheep, the bad boy of the family. His father never approved of his lifestyle or his decisions. Carter Knox was tough on him; even tougher than he had been on the rest of Chase’s brothers, although it was all relative. Carter hadn’t been easy on any of them. Back then, Chase couldn’t wait to turn eighteen so he could get out of Arbor Shores and away from his father’s controlling rule and hair-trigger temper, and that’s exactly what he’d done as soon as he’d finished high school. Sure, the past eight years had been hard, but boy had he lived. As a drifter, he’d done his fair share of traveling, and had mastered just about every blue-collared vocation possible as a means to survive.
Chase didn’t have the same talents his brothers possessed. Shane, his oldest brother, was a famous rock star, and music had always been his passion. His youngest brother, Hunter—filled with business sense and ambition—was the one who’d gone into the family business, Knox Enterprises, which suited him. And his twin brother, Ethan, was a pro football player. Now, that surely had to make their father proud. But Chase had never done anything to make Carter Knox proud. In fact, if his father found out where Chase had been for the past six months, he’d probably disown him altogether, if he hadn’t already. But that’s a secret Chase planned to keep hidden—a secret nobody needed to know about. One he planned to take to the grave.
Would his father or brothers even be happy to see him after all these years? That, he would find out in time. After his twelve-hour trek from New York, right now all he wanted was a cold beer.
He knew just the place.
Chapter 2
“What’ll you have?” the heavy-set, bald bartender asked, leaning forward against the bar top to get a better look.
“Just gimme a Bud draft,” Chase told him, looking around to take in the place. Ripples Bar and Grille had always been the town attraction, and from the looks of it, it was still busy as ever. Although he’d never been old enough to drink there before he left, he’d sure had his fair share of fun out back on the beach behind it.
The man poured a pint from the taps behind him, and set it down in front of Chase, taking his cash off the bar. Chase took a long guzzle, and set down the half-empty glass about the time the bartender brought his change.
“Thirsty, eh?” the man asked, studying him. “You aren’t from around here, are ya?”
“What makes you think that?” Chase didn’t feel like answering any questions.
“You just have that passing through look about ya. Plus, I ain’t ever seen ya before.”
“Yeah, just passing through, but might be here a few days.”
“Name’s John. They call me Big John around here.” The bartender held out his hand to shake, and Chase stared at it for a moment.
“Chase,” he finally said, and returned the shake.
“You staying at the resort?” he asked. Man, this guy was nosy. There had to be someone else who needed something; the bar was half full already, and it was barely noon.
“Nah, I’m hoping to get a room at the Hemlock House. If they have one open.”
“The Hemlock House?” Big John chuckled, and the old man two barstools down joined him. “That place has been closed for years.”
“Eight years at least,” the old man chimed in.
It made sense, considering Mr. and Mrs. Woods had passed long ago. “So, Emma closed it?” he said to himself, perhaps not as quietly as he’d thought.
“You know Emma Woods?” Big John asked.
“Old friend.” Chase downed his final gulp of beer and slid his empty glass toward John, tossing a couple of dollar bills beside it. “Do you know where I can find her?”
Big John folded his arms across his chest but didn’t answer. He had a protective look about him, and Chase suspected he wasn’t going to tell some stranger passing through where Emma was. Chase had to appreciate that about him. The old man down the bar, on the other hand, was more than forthcoming.
“Oh, you’ll find Emma at her bookstore, NovelTea Books and Tea House, right in town. She’s there every day.”
A smile tugged at the corners of Chase’s lips. So, Emma owned a bookstore. That suited her. She’d always been a bookworm, the brains out of the two of them. That’s how they’d become such close friends in the first place. In seventh grade, they were paired together for a science project. She was not happy about it at first, thinking Chase was just going to make her do all the work so he could get his easy A. But after class one day, as he walked her to her locker to carry their display, some boys started making fun of her, calling her four eyes for the clunky glasses she always wore. Chase turned around and punched the biggest of the three boys square in the nose, and th
e other two ran off. Nobody messed with her after that. From that point on, they stuck together and were quite the odd pair, but it worked for them because they were both loners who tended to keep to themselves. She was the quiet, book-smart type, and he was the rebellious bad boy, always in and out of trouble.
By the time they got to high school, they were best friends, and he’d watched her blossom the summer she turned sixteen. He continued to watch out for her as the boys began to take notice of her, and he kept them in line like a protective brotherly-type. The summer they turned eighteen, her parents were killed in a boating accident. He stayed in Arbor Shores long enough to attend the funeral with her, but he left right after and hadn’t seen her since. But man, he sure couldn’t wait to see her now. He could use a familiar face, and hers was the only one he was ready to see.
“You want another?” Big John asked.
“Nope.” Chase got up and gathered his leather jacket and helmet from the stool beside him. “Thanks,” he nodded to the old man before heading for the door.
He was on a mission, and there was only one person in this town he wanted to see.
“A little more to the left,” Emma heard a voice behind her instruct, but if she swung around on the ladder, she’d surely lose her balance.
“I’ll be with you in a moment,” she called out over her shoulder, still struggling to get the specials board hung straight behind the counter. She leaned forward, a full three feet of counter between her ladder and the wall, making it a far reach, one that she was growing used to, yet that didn’t make it any easier to hang the board each day.