Falling In Hard
BRIDGEPORT LAKE SUMMER SERIES BOOK FOUR
Danielle Arie
FALLING IN HARD
BRIDGEPORT LAKE SUMMER SERIES-BOOK FOUR
Two Broken Hearts. One Daring Rescue. One Forbidden Romance.
Cover by Parker Book Design
Edited by Joanne Liu of JL Editing Services
Copyright Information
Falling In Fast © 2020 Danielle Arie. All Rights Reserved.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
SENSITIVITY CAUTION
The content in this book includes the topic of domestic violence.
If you are struggling with this issue yourself, or know someone who is, help is just a phone call away:
National Domestic Violence Hotline
800.799.SAFE (7233)
DISCLAIMER
The events, characters, firms, and settings depicted in this novel are fictitious. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The views held inside this novel are a reflection of the author and not those of any collaborative party.
To my quiet brother, Jake, your amazing bride, Marissa, your two sweet boys, and your beautiful singing voices.
“The Lord your God is in your midst,
a mighty one who will save;
he will rejoice over you with gladness;
he will quiet you by his love;
he will exult over you with loud singing.”
-Zephaniah 3:17
STAY IN TOUCH
Keep up with the author and stay informed about New Releases by visiting Danielle Arie’s Website or joining
Danielle Arie’s Newsletter!
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
Epilogue
ONE
Acknowledgments
About the Author
One
-Late June-
CORY
Aside from a couple mockingbirds, and a few staffers making their way around campus, the morning at Bridgeport was quiet. Mondays before campers came were always like this. A standard calm before the storm. The storm coming my way was borderline perfect, but she had the potential to decimate me if I let her.
I had no idea how I was supposed to face Lea.
I headed across campus, past the Snack Shop and the boathouse, and toward the supply sheds behind them, rechecking my schedule hanging on the clipboard inside. Two private fishing tours today. Wouldn’t be the busiest day of my life, but it would mean extra time to get my own fishing in. If that wasn’t perfect, I couldn’t say what was. Pulling the rods from their slots, I checked the lines and made sure I had the right tackle for the trip.
I’d done a pretty good job avoiding Lea completely back home. As hard as it had been to beat my interest in her down, it was the right thing to do. Twenty-one and seventeen weren’t exactly even odds. Even if her seventeen years bested my twenty-one by a long shot. She could fool every guy out here into thinking she was a second-year staffer.
My stomach tightened at that thought.
She was eighteen now. But after the conversation I’d had with her brother, Nolan, about her a few weeks ago, things were perfectly clear. I wasn’t good enough.
Not like I needed him to tell me that, but he told me anyway. Without mincing words. Nolan always minced words. For being the calmest guy I knew, he was definitely fierce when it came to protecting his sister.
Guess I’d be, too, if I had a sister like her . . .
Every box checked, I headed for the main office to wait for the first group.
Man, I had to get Lea off my mind. Even if Nolan didn’t care so much, I wouldn’t go within a hundred yards of her anyway. Not with the threats I’d had hurled at me before I’d left for Bridgeport at the start of summer. I was too dangerous. As much as I’d tried to fight it, that fact would never change.
“Hey, Cory,” June said from behind her counter, wearing a familiar bright smile, her fire-red hair in pigtails today. “Happy Monday.”
“Thanks.” I stuffed my hands in my pockets as I leaned back against her counter. “How’s Philly?” I didn’t really care how her boyfriend was, but the last time I was in here, she accused me of having a case of the “grumps”, and asked me a million questions, trying to figure out how to put me in a better mood. The girl didn’t understand that some people just aren’t wired to talk.
“He’s . . . amazing,” she said, releasing a contented sigh.
“What about you?” she asked, turning to face her computer screen. “Anyone you’re interested in this year?”
I tensed and shook my head instead. “Nope.”
She faced me again, narrowing her eyes.
My cue to check out the flyers by the door.
“Everyone has someone they’re interested in.”
“Hmm.” I turned to check out the brochure display and pulled out a flyer featuring the 4X4 off-roading excursion that ran every day from four to eight. Envisioning myself out on the back roads, right around dusk, was something I could get excited about.
The door opened, a couple of guys my dad’s age walking in, their fishing vests and bucket hats marking the sign of my ticket out of here. I stepped toward them with an outstretched hand. “Here for the fishing tour?”
“You guessed it,” the first said, shaking my hand. “I’m Hank. This is my buddy, John.”
“I’m Cory Griffin.”
His buddy stepped forward to give me a good handshake, and we headed for the door.
“I’m going to find you someone, Cory,” June said as soon as my clients were out the door.
Wasn’t really sure how I was supposed to take that, but closing the door behind me meant I didn’t have to worry about it yet.
LEA
Winding through the NorCal mountains in Tay’s beat-up, old gray Mazda was perfection. It had been on my list of the top-ten most anticipated moments of summer from the second we walked across the high school graduation stage. The fact that we were on the way to one of the most tranquil places in existence made it that much better.
Bridgeport.
We blasted the music—windows down—and sang from our guts, a song about the boys of summer being gone.
An oldie, but still beyond addicting.
Warm summer air whipped around my face, tugging on a random stray blonde curl. I tucked it behind my ear and adjusted my sunglasses, trying to forget the boy from last summer. There was nothing solid to base any of my feelings over, anyway. He’d never promised anything. Just a couple close talks and one almost-kiss. I think.
I obviously read way too much into that whole situation.
“What happened?” Taylor asked, turning down the volume. “You totally missed your guitar solo.”
&n
bsp; “Oh. Sorry.” I cleared my throat and readjusted in my seat, scrolling backward on the song. The chorus ended, and the music faded, and the first guitar started in, a rapid-fire electric lead. I counted in on my air guitar, hitting every distorted note on cue, Taylor coming in on the next verse like we were pros.
The song ended, and she paused the playlist, slowing as we took a tight turn, sunlight flickering through the sequoia canopy overhead, the earthen scents and warm summer air rolling thick through the windows.
“So. What’s the plan for this week?” Taylor asked.
“I thought we’re relaxing in the mountains and calling it our last time at youth camp.”
“And you’re winning the Sing-Off.”
“And that.”
“Aside from previously stated awesomeness, though, you’re beyond single, and I’m fresh on the market.” Taylor shrugged. “Do we go for the whole summer thing, or steer clear of the male species in general?”
I barked a laugh. “I don’t know. You really ready to jump back on the dating wagon? Won’t it be weird with Ryan there?”
“Who cares what Ryan does?” She shook her head, her bright pink hair giving her the perfect edge to her forget-Ryan summer. It collided with her deep bronze complexion in the most amazing way. “What about Cory? Did you talk to Nolan about him?”
“Cory’s a no-go,” I mumbled, ignoring the intense burn in my chest at the mention of his name.
“What? Why? I thought you guys have a vibe going––”
“I’m missing something, Tay. I can’t read him at all.”
“So, what happened?”
“Nothing. And nothing’s going to. Nolan made that super clear.” I studied my nails. “He used the whole off-limits term again.”
“Hmm.” She went quiet, taking a descending turn.
“Hmm, what?”
“I just thought, I mean, I guess I could see it, you know. You were kind of gaga for a minute. And the way he looks at you . . .”
“I wasn’t gaga. And he doesn’t see me as anything besides Nolan’s little sister––”
“Is that what he said?”
“That’s what he told Nolan.” Narrowing my eyes, I chewed on that fact for a few more seconds. I told myself to let it go, but Nolan was the worst when it came to being overprotective, and even if Cory and I did have a vibe, I wouldn’t put it past Nolan to scare him off. But then . . . “I think he’s interested in someone at Bridgeport, anyway. At least, that’s what Nolan made it seem like.”
“Aw. That stinks. I’m sorry. But, hey. This is our summer, right? We’ll go have a girls’ week and forget stupid guys.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“A little too good, right?”
I didn’t miss the fear in her voice. Which was beyond weird, because Taylor wasn’t afraid of anything. She restarted the music and went to drumming the steering wheel on the straight stretches.
It would be amazing to just go to camp and forget the rest of life for a minute. Without Nolan there keeping tabs on me, I could actually have a little fun this year. Maybe. Well, nothing crazy.
But never say never, right?
“First stop when we get there?” Taylor asked, a thick, dark brow rising above the rim of her neon teal sunglasses.
The Snack Shop was our typical first stop, but a part of me wondered where Cory would be. “Shakes and fries, baby. Can’t change it up on our last year.”
Twelve-thirty rolled around, and we pulled into the parking lot, the crystal lake shining with the sun’s reflection to our right. I would kill to just get out there already and forget everything else, but the rest of our youth group was meeting us here in half an hour. Taylor parked, and we hopped out into the middle of a gorgeous day.
We crossed the paved parking lot and traveled the manicured lawn, stepping onto the cobblestone patio on the other side. Music blared from the sky-blue Snack Shop ahead. The whole time, I told myself not to look for Cory. It didn’t matter where he was, or what he was doing. I didn’t come to Bridgeport for him. I was here for my last summer as a camper, and I wasn’t in the mood to let a silent killer ruin my time.
Inside the Snack Shop, we stepped up to the counter and placed our orders, moving off to the side as the bell on the door jingled.
Taylor grabbed her water off the counter, and I reached for a couple napkins.
She drew a sharp breath, her brown eyes bulging before they flicked back to mine. “Whatever you do, do not turn around,” she whispered. “But seriously!” she shouted, faking a laugh. “The movie was so good, right?”
Oh my gosh. She was the worst at cover-ups.
I moved with her to the soda machine, ice clinking around the waxed cup as I filled it, Taylor right at my side.
“Your man totally knows you’re here,” she whispered, before shaking her head and forcing another laugh. “I loved the part where he got caught texting her.”
Rolling my eyes, I forced my lid onto my soda and stole a glance over my shoulder.
Shoot.
Cory’s dark brown eyes were like steel-cut blades, trained on mine and piercing my soul, sliding deeper every second. Okay, so not that dramatic. But I got it now. The whole quivering, trembling, fluttering thing. Whenever Cory looked at me the way he was looking at me now, that’s exactly what happened to my legs, and you might as well rip my lungs out, too, because they were completely useless. He turned and said something to the girl at the register, barely audible, because that was Cory. Everything he did was barely audible, but it didn’t matter. There was no way not to hear him.
I had no idea why I started having feelings for him last year. But we got close last summer after my dad passed away, and every time he’d come to our house to hang with Nolan, he’d make a point to check in on me. Something sparked between us for a few weeks. I don’t know what happened, but by Thanksgiving, he went cold.
Cory took his receipt and the bag of chips the cashier handed him, and headed for the door. No “hi, how are you.” No subtle nod, or acknowledging my existence at all. Just the jingle of the bell and a closed-door rejection.
I so wasn’t over it.
“Wow.” Taylor huffed a breath, jaw almost hitting the floor. “Did he just . . . did he just cold-shoulder you?”
“Yep.” I swallowed, everything in sight a shade redder than before. I had no idea what changed his mind about me, and I honestly shouldn’t let it bother me. I mean, what was one more person adding their rejection to the worst-ever start of my post high school summer? But Cory had always been different. What was so bad about me that he couldn’t even say “hi” anymore? He seriously just ignored my existence and thought he could get away with it?
“I’ll be right back,” I told Taylor.
Two
CORY
Forcing my feet out the Snack Shop door was the hardest thing I’d done all summer. And I’d done some hard things this summer. I saw Lea walk into the Snack Shop as I came out of the storage shed. I told myself to pass it up and eat lunch at the cafeteria, to go anywhere else. My rebel legs wouldn’t listen. Man, I was such an idiot. As if being near her wasn’t bad enough, then she had to look at me, and those hazel eyes turned me into a deer in the headlights in an instant. Whenever I was near her, it was like she was the sun and I was just a measly little planet whirling around her system.
Run.
It was the only word that would register. Then Nolan’s shutdown on repeat. And I remembered my promise to him. Keep an eye out, but keep away. The definition of an oxymoron, but I promised him I would. It was the last thing he’d said to me before he ditched out last week and left the rest of us behind to pick up his slack for the summer. He couldn’t understand how impossible it was going to be.
One of the staffers waved to me from the dock. I lifted a hand and kept going, heading back toward the supply shed. I didn’t have another fishing tour scheduled for a couple of hours, but prepping early wasn’t a crime. I grabbed the checklist for my next tour, a set
of fast-paced footsteps swishing through the grass behind me. I turned around as Lea chucked a wadded up napkin at my face.
“Really?” she asked, face flushed, and hazel eyes flashing.
Every emotion looked good on her, but rage had to place somewhere at the top of the list.
Not that I was allowed to think that.
Off-limits.
I swallowed, turning back to my checklist. “What do you want, Lea?”
“What do I want? I want to know why you totally ignored me back there . . . why you’ve been ignoring me since Thanksgiving. Look. I know you’re interested in someone else up here, but that doesn’t mean you have to just write me off––”
“What?” I scowled, ticking all the boxes on my supply list, because I had them all memorized, and I’d just checked the list a few hours ago.
Someone else? Where’d she get that?
“Seriously. I’m not about to sit here and let you act like we’re not friends anymore.”
I didn’t remember saying we weren’t. “I’m busy.”
I wanted to turn around and face her so bad. To pick up where we’d left off last summer, when I was actually considering doing something about us—but at seventeen and twenty then, it was out of the question. And that was before things got lethal at home.
Falling In Hard: Book Four in The Bridgeport Lake Summer Series Page 1
