Brady

by Kensie King

  And the idea of it made me uneasy. I didn’t want Fox anywhere near Noah if he was going to try to romance him like he did other men he brought to his cabin. Fox wasn’t exactly a player, but he also wasn’t one for commitment, and Noah deserved more than that.

  He deserved someone who would take care of him and be there for him—and provide the distraction he needed every once in a while. Fuck, I wanted to be that distraction. Even just once.

  I’d take off his glasses and grip his wavy hair so I could pull his head back and ravage his mouth with mine. But I’d take it slow with the rest, removing his clothes piece by piece and letting myself touch every single inch of skin. I could imagine the catch of his breath as I drove inside of him and the whisper of my name on his lips.

  I kind of like to imagine the shy writer had a wild side, one he was only too happy to indulge with me.

  “I think I’d like to test it out,” Fox said with a nod. “Which cabin is he staying in?”

  Derek pointed down by the water. “Two.”

  I glared at Fox. “Leave him alone and let him get some work done.”

  “Maybe you should leave that up to him, whether or not he wants to work or play.”

  “No.”

  Fox straightened and lifted his brows. “Come on. You know I’m just teasing you. You’ve had a thing for Noah since the first year he came here. I’m just trying to get you to admit it. Go for it—no time like the present.”

  I frowned, not realizing I’d been so obvious about my attraction. Then I gave Derek a sharp look. “Wait, did you say cabin two?”

  He nodded.

  I started to the door. “Dammit. I thought he always stays in cabin one, closer to the water.”

  “He does, and I’m surprised you didn’t notice that the stairs for cabin one are practically under water.”

  Fuck. I had noticed. But still. “Well, you could have told me. I was getting around to fixing the stairs on two today. Dammit—” I broke off and opened the door.

  I heard Fox chuckling behind me before I slammed the door and grabbed my toolbox again.

  I didn’t want Noah getting hurt. And actually, this gave me a good excuse to go down and see him.

  Maybe Fox being interested was another good excuse. I’d thought and dreamed about Noah Holden for years.

  It was about time I did something about it.

  Chapter 3

  Cabin two looked almost exactly like cabin one, but this one had a fireplace and a wide living room window that overlooked the lake.

  Even better, I thought to myself. Outside the door, I spotted a small pile of wood for the fireplace.

  Cozy. It’d be even cozier with one particular man sharing it with me, but…

  I rolled my eyes and hauled my last box inside. I was glad I’d brought food. Usually the restaurant was open all day, or at least for lunch and dinner, but since I’d come early, I was going to have to make do with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and granola bars.

  “Thanks a lot, Nellie,” I muttered under my breath.

  My sister was the reason I’d decided to come early. She’d taken after my mother and decided she’d measure her adult life in marriages instead of other successes like the rest of us.

  There was a time when, between my parents and my sister, their total marriages had been more than the amount of books I’d published.

  I’d written more since then, but damn, my family was definitely trying to catch up.

  And here I was thinking about Brady when I knew the best thing to do was stay safe in my own book world with characters who fell in love and stayed that way.

  Or children’s stories that still ended happily.

  It wasn’t hard to see that fantasy was better than reality ten times out of ten.

  Once I had everything inside, I put my suitcase in the small bedroom and took out a few boxes of food and the fruit I’d brought to put on the counter in the kitchen.

  Wood. I should bring a few logs in for later tonight so I didn’t have to get out if the rain picked up.

  I stepped back outside, the drizzle coating my glasses. I took them off and set them on the table inside the door. I didn’t need those to gather wood anyway.

  Two steps down, the wood wobbled and I stopped, holding onto the rail. That wasn’t good. The step was loose. I’d have to tell Brady so he could fix it.

  My cheeks heated. Okay, maybe not Brady. Maybe Derek because, even though he himself was sexy as hell and inspiration for his own romance novel, he was still less intimidating than Brady.

  And I had another story waiting for him anyway. The man with haunted eyes who’d find the love of his life, the only other man in the world who’d take away the pain of the past and break through the barrier he’d put up against love.

  I nodded to myself. Good. Each of the men who worked here were going to be models for the heroes of my next series. I was pretty sure I was going to start with Fox, the sexy as hell chef who’d wanted a clean start after a rough past.

  A man in an apron always made a good story.

  I ducked under the edge of the deck to grab the pieces of wood in the back, the ones that were still completely dry.

  Once I was loaded up, I went back up the steps. I paused when I caught something out of the corner of my eye.

  I squinted but could only see a blurry red figure coming this direction.

  “Noah!”

  I narrowed my eyes even further. Was that Brady?

  I put my foot on the edge of the next step, then my breath caught when it gave way completely and my foot went through. The wood fell from my arms when I tried to catch myself as half my leg fell into the hole in the stairs.

  “Fuck,” I heard someone hiss behind me.

  I froze, holding myself precariously over the hole and feeling a distinct draft in the leg of my pants. They’d definitely ripped. I just didn’t know how far and what other damage had been done.

  My ankle throbbed slightly, but I barely noticed when Brady stepped into my sight.

  “Noah,” he said calmly. “Are you okay?”

  “I—I’m in a hole. In the stairs.”

  Wow. Eloquent.

  Brady straddled two of the stairs. “I’m so sorry.” He reached out for my arms. “I’m going to help you, okay? Just…be careful.”

  Before I could say anything, he gripped me firmly on the arms and started to pull. I heaved myself out with the help of my other foot and stumbled against him.

  “Sorry,” I started, but my breath rushed out when his arms only tightened around me, holding me against his chest.

  “Noah,” he murmured. I swore his eyes dropped to my lips. “Are you hurt?’

  I blinked. I couldn’t feel anything right now but the strength of his arms and chest. My cock twitched. Shit. I hoped he hadn’t felt that.

  “I’m…” I grimaced when I put my foot down, the one that had fallen through the stairs. “I’m fine.”

  He frowned. “I can tell that you aren’t. And…” He looked down and hissed in a breath. “You’re bleeding. Okay, hold on.”

  I thought he meant wait for a minute, but he literally meant for me to hold onto him. He lifted me into his arms and turned to the door of the cabin while every over the top sexy scenario or meet-cute in one of my romances hit me hard.

  Except that this wasn’t a story. It was real life.

  And I was in Brady’s arms.

  “I tried to catch you,” Brady said. I could feel the rumble in his chest as he spoke. He eased sideways through the door, careful not to hit my foot. “I was planning on fixing the stairs today, but I didn’t know Derek had switched cabins for you.”

  “It’s fine. It—” I grimaced when he moved to set me on the couch.

  “Shit. I hope you didn’t break anything.” He put me down as gently as possible, then instantly got on his knees next to me. “Can I check?”

  My mouth hung open. Check? Like…touch my ankle? Scan for breaks? I had no clue, but I nodded dumbly.
>
  It didn’t matter to me. Anything Brady did would probably feel like heaven. Unless I really did break my ankle. Then that was going to be a problem.

  “The scratches are superficial,” Brady said, scanning my leg. He gripped the fabric of my pants. “Sorry, I can’t see the rest. Is it okay if I…or do you want to take them off?”

  I gulped. Fuck no, I wasn’t taking my pants off in front of him. “No, it’s fine. The pants are probably ruined anyway.”

  He nodded and ripped the seam a little further so he could see the rest of my leg. “Good. We’ll get this cleaned up in a minute. I’m going to take off your shoe.”

  He was already undoing the laces. I watched his face, noted the rainwater running down his cheeks and the highlights in his dark brown hair. Tucked away every muscle and vein I saw in his arms and hands as he deftly removed my shoe and sock and set my foot gently on his knee.

  “Where does it hurt?” he asked.

  “Just—uh—just the ankle.”

  He kept his eyes on the task, which was good because I was dying from his touch. His fingers were so gentle even though I could see and feel the barely veiled strength in them. The calluses on the pads of his fingers brushed my skin and the friction alone was enough to make hard.

  I set my hands in my lap, trying to cover my arousal. Clearly I wasn’t hurt that bad if I was getting hard at something as simple as his hands touching my leg.

  “It looks a little swollen,” Brady said, voice gruff. His fingers moved softly over the bone. “But not bad. That’s good. Hopefully just a mild sprain. Can you move it?”

  I moved my foot up and down with only a slight grimace. Brady watched my face.

  “Sorry,” he murmured, then pointed. “What about the other way?”

  “It’s fine, really,” I told him. It was barely throbbing now.

  “Humor me.”

  I twisted my foot from side to side while he watched, and then ducked my chin when he studied my face. The man saw too much. It was like he could see straight to my soul. No one, not even my sister needed to know that much about me.

  Noah Holden was probably the most boring person on the planet. That was why I wrote stories. My life was so boring, I made up things so that I’d have at least a little something to talk about.

  Brady put his hand under my chin and lifted my face so I’d meet his eyes. Shivers raced down my body.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, eyes hypnotizing.

  “I really am. It—it barely hurts anymore.”

  “You sure? Derek is going to kill me, but at least if it’s not serious—”

  “It’s not serious,” I said.

  He released me. “Good. Last thing we need is to get sued.”

  “I wouldn’t do that,” I mumbled. “It—it was an accident.”

  Brady’s gaze whipped to mine. “I know you wouldn’t. I didn’t mean—dammit.” He leaned in and then shut his eyes briefly. “Fuck, you smell good.”

  I blinked, completely caught off guard. “Wh—what?”

  He opened his eyes again and they focused on mine. “I didn’t mean to insinuate…”

  I swallowed hard and pulled my foot from his leg. “It’s fine. I’m fine. It’s—” I waved off the words. What was I supposed to say anyway? I couldn’t help but feel a little hurt that he’d think I’d actually sue them or their business because of an accident.

  Besides, I needed to get to work. Brady needed to get to work.

  “I—I’m going to do some writing,” I told Brady when he didn’t move.

  I started to stand, trying to stay steady and not put too much pressure on my ankle. Brady reached out, holding my arms to help. God, I could die letting him touch me.

  But that, like everything else, was just a fantasy.

  It was all fake. Everything but the fact that I was a klutz, I hurt my ankle, and I had a deadline to meet.

  Which meant work.

  Work, I could handle.

  It was the real world that would hurt me if I didn’t stay focused.

  “Thanks for your help,” I told Brady, not meeting his eyes.

  “Noah, I…”

  I almost wanted him to finish. I almost wanted to know what sex-god Brady Belle actually had to say to me. Probably more apologies so I didn’t sue him.

  “It’s fine,” I said dismissively.

  He stood there another moment longer, then inclined his head. “Okay. Sure. I’ll make sure your step gets fixed.”

  I nodded and waited for him to leave, almost feeling like I’d hurt his feelings somehow, which was impossible.

  Brady and I weren’t the same type of guy. He was confident, certain about what he said, and probably had guys lining up to meeting him.

  I was shy and awkward and had no clue what to say to any of those kinds of guys—which normally didn’t matter because they weren’t interested in talking to someone like me anyway.

  Once Brady was out the door, I tested my weight on my foot. Good. Just a little sore.

  And since Brady was going to be working outside where I could see him from the living room, I’d just take my computer to the bedroom and get my writing done in there.

  Chapter 4

  I dropped my toolbox outside the door to the restaurant so it wouldn’t scratch up the floor inside. It sat under the porch overhang, safe from the rain that was falling in earnest now.

  I’d gotten the step at Noah’s cabin fixed, which should have made me feel better, but it didn’t.

  Mostly because it had felt like he’d kicked me out—like he was upset.

  “Fuck,” I muttered under my breath.

  I stepped inside, noting that one of the lightbulbs was out on a wall sconce.

  “Dammit,” I said, speaking in the general direction of the kitchen where I could hear Fox moving around. “How hard is it to change a lightbulb?”

  He emerged from a door and looked at me with a vague smile. “I don’t know. How hard?”

  “This isn’t a joke. It was an actual question.”

  “Oh.” He flicked a gaze at the sconce and then back at me. “So I guess the good mood is gone. What happened—Noah turn you down?”

  I frowned at him. Actually, it sort of felt like that was exactly what had happened. Which was my fault since I’d basically insinuated he might try to sue us.

  Damn. The words had just slipped out. It had nothing to do with Noah and everything to do with my frustration that he’d gotten hurt. Because of me.

  Fox lost his smile. “Sorry.”

  I sighed. Fox might tease and joke but he was the one person I could always talk to. Always had been. Which was probably why I’d come in here to bitch about the lightbulb instead of walking back to the office to unload on Derek.

  “He fell through a damn hole in the stairs,” I told Fox as I sat on a stool at the counter.

  “What?”

  I shrugged. “The stair was loose and Noah slipped. He’s fine and I fixed it but…” I grunted. “I think he’s mad at me.”

  Fox lifted an eyebrow. He glanced behind him and gestured to a glass on the shelf. “You need something to drink?”

  I laughed. “It’s barely after noon.”

  “Never too early for a drink around here.”

  Some days that was true. But no, I still had work to do. And I wasn’t the kind who drowned my sorrows.

  In fact, I typically worked them off. I’d thought fixing the stairs would help but this time it just made me feel worse because I knew Noah was inside his cabin working, wearing his sexy glasses that I’d seen on the table in there, and probably pissed as hell at me because I’d accused him of something he’d never do.

  I shook my head. “No, thanks. What are you doing?”

  Fox looked around. “Preparing. Derek figured having the interviews in here made sense and…well, it doesn’t look like a place I’d want to work.”

  “I’ll fix the light,” I told him.

  He shook his head. “It’s not just that. It needs…spr
ucing up. New paint. Comfortable chairs.” He gestured to the dining room. “We should move the tables so people can see the lake or sit around the fire instead of staring at the wall.”

  I followed his gaze around the room. He was right. And it was about time. We were growing—getting more business. The only reason we hadn’t done it sooner was because…well, we’d gotten busy. Derek had gotten the place for a good deal, but he’d had to move quick. After our other “brother” had backed out at the last minute and he’d managed to get me and Fox on board, we were already behind schedule and needed to get the place open.

  It was charming and cozy, but Fox was right. It needed sprucing up.

  “Makes sense,” I said, turning back.

  Fox nodded. “So, tell me. I know you didn’t come in here to hear about how I want to rearrange the tables.”

  I gave a reluctant smile. “No. It’s…” I sighed again. “I’m an asshole.”

  “Can’t argue with that.”

  I flipped him off. “Seriously. Noah fell through the fucking stairs and he was standing there looking all helpless and I…” I couldn’t get the expression on his face out of my mind. Eyes wide, cheeks pale. And I’d been walking down that hill calling his name to tell him to get off the stairs—I’d probably distracted him and made him fall.

  “Is he okay?” Fox asked.

  I shrugged. “Yeah, sprained his ankle, I think. Nothing serious. But I made some idiot comment about him suing us or Derek and I’m pretty sure I offended him.”

  Fox whistled. “Damn. You sure know how to charm people.”

  “That’s why Derek works with the customers,” I growled.

  “I hear you.”

  But Fox didn’t get it. He was a charmer, too. A people person. I didn’t have a way with words. I was a hard worker and kept busy. That was my MO.

  “Maybe I should bring him some ice,” Fox said with a smile. “For his ankle.”

  “Why the hell would you do that?”

  “To take care of him. And I’m curious, aren’t you? How his writer brain works. What he looks like without his glasses on—though I’m not going to lie, I think they make him look scholarly. But if they were off and his hair was all ruffled like—”