Off-Season Stud

by Abby Knox

  Off-Season Stud

  Abby Knox

  Copyright © 2018 by Abby Knox

  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 written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Edited by Aquila Editing

  Cover Designer: Mayhem Cover Creations

  Dedicated to Emily Sioma, badass and also Miss Michigan.

  Contents

  Off-Season Stud

  Prologue

  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

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Epilogue

  An excerpt from Abby’s next title!

  About the Author

  Also by Abby Knox

  Off-Season Stud

  Just who does this guy think he is, calling me last minute to book two cabins for an entire month — and after tourist season? It’s the end of summer, and River Rocks resort owner Gretchen Fletcher is closing up her business for the winter and thinking over some major life changes. She does not have time for a late-season renter, no matter how many hundreds he can peel off from his billfold. But everything has its price, and watching him peel off his shirt might be worth delaying her plans to settle down.

  Dr. Matthew Brendan is a secretive professor who wants to find a remote cabin to hole up for the season. He’ll pay any price, and the sexy resort owner is an added perk of the perfect Northwoods scenery. He soon finds that Gretchen makes it difficult for him to concentrate, especially when life isn’t giving her the happiness she deserves — and that he knows he could give her.

  Prologue

  The massive cargo ship lumbered by while Gretchen waited impatiently to dive into the cool waves of the wide St. Eustace River from her parents’ weathered fishing boat dock.

  The channel was busy today.

  “Don’t the freighters know it’s the end of summer? It’s my last swim!”

  The water might stay warm to swim in for a few more weeks, but this weekend was always the last hurrah of the summer tourism season.

  Gretchen’s mother laughed while the wooden dock swing creaked as she glided back and forth. “You say that like it’s the last swim of your life. As if we won’t be back to open up the resort next May.”

  “It’s a whole nine months away!” Gretchen exclaimed.

  Gretchen’s dad, James Fletcher, sipped at his coffee next to the love of his life on the dock swing. “Nine months will seem like a blink when you get to be our age,” he said.

  It was 6 a.m., which was way too early for her parents to be awake, she knew. But Gretchen loved the water like it was her best friend. Sometimes it felt like her only friend out here in this isolated corner of the Great Lakes.

  The freighter thrummed eastward down the river, toward the mouth that spilled into Lake Huron. Finally, the shipping channel was clear and she dove out, stretching her arms as far as she could, cutting through the water and kicking her feet fiercely, as if she might not ever get the chance to swim this river again.

  The water was choppy with whitecaps churned up by the passing freighter.

  Gretchen somehow had the feeling this was all going to pass away soon. She didn’t know why, but she had to swim to the island.

  Ferris Island, which sat at the opposite shore from their house, was the last stop before Canada, if one were to skirt Border Patrol in St. Eustace City and try to get there by boat.

  From the dock, Gretchen had thought it would take only about 20 minutes to swim across, where she would rest on the rocks for a minute before leisurely heading home.

  But she soon realized she was getting tired and she was a little over halfway to the island.

  Well, there’s no turning back now.

  “Gretchen,” her mother, Nancy, called. “Don’t go out too far!”

  But she was too busy seizing the day to mind her mother.

  Funny, she thought, how the clear day made it seem like the island was much closer.

  Gretchen stopped to tread water for a minute to catch her breath and she heard her father shout, “Time to turn back now, Gretchen!”

  And then she heard it. Another freighter was coming down the channel. The low hum followed by two long blasts of the horn.

  From the shore, the sound was pleasant. In the water, it was a different story. There were a host of other sounds that went along with this giant hunk of metal. Gretchen judged her distance to Ferris Island and the distance back to her parents’ dock. She would have to cross in front of the freighter to go back home at this point. So, she swam even closer to Ferris Island to try to get out of the way. She swam what felt like a mile, and she had to stop. She was so out of breath.

  She turned to look back and tread water calmly, but her eyes popped at the close-up view of the gargantuan wall of steel in the water, cutting a wake of white waves behind it. The ship was less than 10 yards away. As it passed, she heard the throb of the massive propellers under the surface of the water, and it sent shivers down her spine. It was the most awesome sight of her life.

  When the boat had passed, she bobbed up and down in the churning waves and waved to her parents, who were standing on the dock, binoculars pressed to their faces, both of them had their hands over their hearts.

  She heard her mother cry out when they caught sight of Gretchen safe and sound.

  Gretchen knew she was in trouble, but she waved again to them to let them know she was OK.

  The next moment was the biggest surprise of all, as she was suddenly scooped up by old George Travers, a retired tugboat captain and the lone resident of Ferris Island.

  She landed on the deck of his fishing boat with a thud.

  All around her was a tangle of nylon.

  “George!” she cried. “Did you seriously pull me out of the water with a damn fishing net!?”

  George glared at her then gunned the engine, aiming the bow at her dock across the river. “You’re lucky you didn’t tear it. I oughta tan your hide.”

  The wizened old man cussed her out all the way back to the dock until safely handing her off to her terrified parents. Gretchen let her father wrap her up in a towel and pick her up in his arms. She felt exhilarated but glad to be safe again.

  “Thank you, George,” her mother said shakily.

  “It was nothing, but see that you keep a better eye on this bullheaded girl. Next time I’ll be letting the northern pike chew on her ankles for a bit.”

  As her parents escorted her back to the cabin to change into dry clothes, Gretchen excitedly went over the events that had happened. She had nearly swum all the way to Ferris Isl
and by herself, was almost hit by a freighter, got fished out of the water by a tugboat captain and heard more curse words in five minutes than she had ever heard in her ten years.

  Best. Day. Ever.

  1

  Seventeen years later

  Gretchen

  Gretchen was proud of herself.

  She had just successfully winterized all of the cabins at the River Rocks Resort, completely on her own. She’d taken it bit by bit, hanging the storm windows, insulating water pipes, but she had done it.

  She never looked forward to the end of tourist season, but her satisfaction of being able to close up the resort by herself outweighed any end-of-summer melancholy.

  After all, Gretchen was a grown adult now, and she was taking over the family business.

  Sweaty and needing to sit for a moment, she went to her office—an A-frame cabin that doubled as her residence for the summer season—and punched in a familiar number on the old landline handset. Her father’s voice came to her like he was standing right next to her. “How’s my little girl?”

  “Daddy, I’m 27, not a little girl.”

  “Well, you’re still my little squirt no matter what. How’s things going up there? You need any help?”

  “No, I think I’ve got everything under control. The last renters packed up the day after Labor Day and now I’m just finishing up. All that’s left is to take in the dock.”

  “George and the rest of his fishing buddies should be there in the morning to help. That’s the one thing not even my girl can do by herself.”

  She smiled. Old George the tugboat captain was still kicking around Ferris Island.

  These “fishing buddies” encompassed all of the owners of the neighboring resorts or summer cabins that dotted the Sandy Lane side of the St. Eustace River, all of whom looked out for each other: Jamie And Sarah next door owned the Lazy Days fishing resort. Barb and Jo had the next property over and were retired Coast Guard. Ike and Regina owned the Northwoods Outfitters on the other side of River Rocks, where visitors launched Great Lakes kayaking tours all summer long.

  Everybody helped everybody else take down their docks in September, and likewise helped each other assemble everything again in May when the last of the ice was melted.

  It was a neighborhood where you could count on one or more fire-pit gatherings on any given night, kids and dogs wandering from one house to the next. Property lines were not important, but friendship was.

  “Roger that, Daddy,” Gretchen said with a smile. “I’m getting ready to go have my final dip in the water before heading to Detroit.”

  “Watch out for them freighters, girlie,” her dad said, imitating George’s salty, craggy voice.

  “I will,” she said. “I got a fella down in the city waiting on me, after all.”

  Her dad fell silent. She knew why. Neither her dad nor her mother liked Nicholas all that much. “It’s OK, Dad, he’s a good guy. Really.”

  “I just don’t understand what it is he does.”

  “He’s a buy-and-hold real estate investor,” she told him for the tenth time.

  “Is this a long-term thing? Because I just don’t understand a man who would let his girl be alone at the cabin all summer.”

  Gretchen sighed, but the truth of what her father was saying stung a little bit. “Well, he works. A lot. And he’s not really all that…outdoorsy.”

  Her dad paused uncomfortably. “Well, as long as he’s good to you, then I’m happy. Are you happy?”

  She bit her lip and caught herself pausing a second too long. “Sure, Daddy.”

  “OK. Let me know how it goes with the dock tomorrow, won’t you?”

  Moments later, Gretchen was donning her swimsuit and padding out to the of the dock for the last time that summer.

  She looked up and down the river and, seeing no freighters, bent her knees to prepare for the dive. Just as she was about to spring off, she heard the clanging of the office telephone.

  Startled, Gretchen stood up straight, annoyed.

  She could ignore it and just go for her swim. Whoever it was would leave a message. But then again, maybe it was Mom, and maybe it was important.

  She grabbed her towel and ran back to the office.

  “River Rocks Resort,” she said breathlessly.

  “Yes, hello, my name is Dr. Matthew Brendan, I’d like to book two of your cabins.”

  Gretchen bit back a sigh. He had an upper-crust New York accent and talked double fast.

  She opened the day planner to the following May. “For which week of next season? We book only a week at a time.”

  “Actually, I need the cabins for two months.”

  She laughed. “Two cabins for two months? That’s a lot of weeks and I’m going to need a big deposit.”

  “I’m prepared to pay in cash immediately, over the phone.”

  Whoa.

  She swallowed. He had an assertive manner, which she respected.

  “This far out in advance, there’s no telling if you may change your plans, and then I’m left with a bunch of empty cabins for two months that I could have booked. You won’t get your money back if I’m left with empty cabins for two whole months of the warm season next year.”

  Dr. Matthew Brendan cleared his throat. “I think we misunderstand each other, Mrs.…”

  “Just Gretchen.”

  “Well, ‘Just Gretchen,’ I want to book for two months starting tomorrow.”

  Gretchen gaped into the phone. Was this guy serious? This had to be a prank.

  “Sir, we are a seasonal resort. It is now past Labor Day. We close up for the winter.…tomorrow, as a matter of fact.”

  “I can pay it all up front, over the phone, right now. Here’s my card information…”

  She could not help but laugh. “I’m afraid I can’t help you. This is a small family resort in the middle of the woods. We tear down our docks tomorrow. I’ve just finished winterizing everything.”

  “You rent for five hundred dollars per week, yes?”

  “Yes. But as I said, we’re…”

  “Then that would be about four thousand to five thousand dollars for two months. Would you stay open for ten thousand dollars?”

  She nearly fell out of her squeaky chair.

  “Are you for real? With that kind of money, why aren’t you staying on Mackinac Island at the Grand Hotel?”

  “I like quiet. I like woods. I like water. I like the climate there. I don’t like people. I just want some peace and quiet.”

  She was tempted, but ultimately had to say no. “I just can’t do two whole months.”

  “You sound like you’d be willing to do one month, then. Am I right about that?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Very well. Ten thousand dollars for one month and that’s my final offer.

  “My boyfriend is expecting me in Detroit the day after tomorrow.”

  He sighed. “That’s fine. I’ll move on to the next resort on the map I have in front of me and keep going until I find someone who will take my offer.”

  Suddenly, something in her caused her to speak up.

  “Ten thousand? For one month?” The nerve of this guy, she thought. But, that kind of money would definitely be useful around the place. At least one of the cabins was going to need a new roof sooner rather than later, and Gretchen kind of wanted to do some new plantings around the grounds. She might even be able to upgrade the dock for that kind of money.

  She tapped her pen on the desk. This was all very strange. And yet, there was something deeply serious in his voice. He was terse, obviously liked to throw his money around to get his way, but she had a feeling he wasn’t going to leave her high and dry.

  If her father had been there, he would have asked her what makes her so sure about a man by the sound of his voice over the phone.

  But then, James Fletcher never did trust her judgment in men.

  And speaking of men, her boyfriend was going to be pissed as hell that she was g
oing to be delayed for another month.

  He was already stressed due to being up for a big promotion at his investment firm.

  Then again, if this guy on the phone ended up being a no-show, what did she have to lose? The cabins would be sitting empty either way.

  Gretchen seized the moment.

  “OK, but your people should understand that this will be bare bones. My summer help has already gone back to college. You’ll not be catered to, but I’ll do my best.”

  He seemed to hesitate, but finally said, “I don’t expect anything. And truth be told, I’d rather not be disturbed, for the most part. Here’s my card number, please run it immediately.”

  This guy obviously did not understand she did not have a second phone line to run the card while he was on the phone, nor did she run credit cards on an unreliable internet connection out here in the sticks.

  “I’ll take a check when you get here,” she assured him. “If it bounces, you’ll know because you’ll wake up on a canoe in the middle of the shipping channel.”

  “I’ll be there first thing in the morning.”

  Gretchen hung up and made another call. She tapped out the number with a Detroit area code.

  “Babe! What’s up?” She smiled as she pictured Nicholas’s bad boy grin and imagined he was loosening his tie. It was about time for him to be arriving home to his condo from work.

  “Hey, listen, I have some bad news, but actually it’s kind of good news. I think. I’m going to be delayed here a bit with a last-minute booking. Normally I wouldn’t take it because I’ve already winterized most of the cabins and George is coming to help take down the pier tomorrow. But he’s offering a lot of money; I don’t know what he needs it for, maybe a family reunion. They must be rich, they’re offering me $10K for two cabins.”