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Contents
BRADY
Summary
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
BRADY
(Belle Resort Book 1)
Kensie King
BRADY
Copyright © 2020 by Kensie King
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
Summary
NOAH
Belle Resort has always been one of my favorite places to get away from the hustle and bustle of the city and get some writing done. It doesn’t hurt that the men who own the cute cluster of cabins by the lake are easy on the eyes—especially Brady Belle. I’ve used him as inspiration for more than one story I’ve written and I’m looking forward to seeing him again. I might not believe love exists in real life, but that doesn’t mean I’m not up for some series eye candy.
BRADY
Noah’s been this mystery to me ever since I saw him the first time he came to Belle Resort in his scholarly glasses and toting his laptop. It wasn’t only his body that intrigued me, but also his mind. I should have acted on it before, but it wasn’t until now that I realized how much I wanted to get to know him. So I make my move. And I discover just enough to know I want more. Everything about Noah makes me want him. The only problem: he doesn’t believe me. He doesn’t believe true love in real life is possible and keeps trying to run from me. Now it’s my mission to show Noah that love exists beyond the pages of his novels and he’s going to find it with me at Belle Resort.
Chapter 1
Coming around the curve of the wet, western Washington road and getting my first glimpse of Belle Resort felt a lot like coming home.
I’d been coming here every year for the past five years, usually to meet other writers for a conference.
But this year, I was on my own. Just me, my laptop, and a brain full of ideas that were going to make my literary agent very happy. She’d been representing me for those entire five years plus one and helped make my writing career what it was today.
The lake appeared, then the cute cabin-like lodges that surrounded the body of water on one side. I slowed slightly to see through the soft mist that fell from the sky.
I was so distracted by the view I barely noticed the figure in the road before it was too late. I slammed my foot on the brake pedal, eyes wide when I saw who it was.
Over six feet of solid man and the muse for more than one of the steamy romances I wrote under a pen name. The ones only my agent, my editor, and a small handful of people knew about.
To the rest of the world, I was simply Noah Holden, children’s author.
Brady’s eyes locked on mine through the windshield. I could tell the moment he recognized me because he straightened and moved aside, lugging a toolbox that probably weighed nearly as much as me.
He wore a bright red flannel over a plain while T-shirt that hugged every single muscle—and that man owned more than a few. Damn, he could have been a model for one of those sexy old romance covers. The ones where he rode on the back of a horse with a woman swooning in his arms—one kind of like the stories I wrote.
But in my version, it would be me in Brady’s arms if I had anything to say about it.
I pushed my glasses up on my nose, the fantasy bubble of him holding me tight vanishing when I realized this was the real world. I had glasses, drove a Volvo, and couldn’t figure out how to speak half the time.
I could write oceans of words and do it with my eyes closed. But talking out loud to any one of the sexy men who worked at Belle Resort—and trust me, there was more than one—had my tongue in knots.
Brady leaned one strong hand on my windowsill when I rolled the window down. “Hey, Noah. I thought that was you.”
My stomach fluttered. I knew it was him, too. But I could only give a goofy smile.
“Derek said you were coming this week,” he continued.
Another smile. And a nod.
“Got that group with you this time?”
Shit. An open-ended question, which meant I had to respond. “I—it’s just me this time. We couldn’t get the conference together and—I needed a break. Or something.”
Brady’s mouth moved into a slow smile, one that did dangerous things to my body. “Gotcha. I saw you had a new book out.”
I blinked. He did? Brady didn’t strike me as the type who read. He was a hands-on kind of man. And most of the time I was thinking about those hands on me. But sure, he probably had hobbies. In fact, now that I took a moment, I could picture him sitting in one of the employee lodges, fresh air streaming through the window, while his large hands held a book. That would be just my luck—devastatingly sexy and smart. He was way out of my league.
“It’s—yeah,” I said, stumbling over my words again. “It’s one of my favorites. I even helped with the illustrations and…”
Either I was babbling or not talking at all. Wonderful.
Brady smiled again and straightened. “Well, I should let you get to it then. I’m sure you didn’t come here to chat with me.”
I kind of did, actually. I wasn’t sure why, but out of all the places I’d gone for writing retreats, this one gave me the most inspiration. I was certain watching Brady walk around like a lumberjack god wasn’t hurting that inspiration in the slightest.
He stepped back from the car and gave a wave when I pressed on the gas again. I returned the wave and then drove to the main office, where I knew I’d find Derek checking in guests or running the main store I always found so charming. It was a tourist trap, sure, but it was one of the more unique ones. It had local art, designs straight off the local reservation, and even vampire books. Made sense because it we were far north in the rainforest and close to a town one of the most famous vampire authors used in her stories.
It rained all the time here, which was just more inspiration for my work. That, and imagining Brady walking through the rain with his shirt clinging tightly to his chest was just another of my favorite images.
Fuck. I was so lost in this guy, I was kind of hopeless. That was a writer’s head for you. Always stuck in their own imagination, picturing what life could be like but hardly ever going out to actually live it.
I parked in front and pulled my hood over my head before getting out and walking up the steps to the main office. Inside, I spotted Derek right away at the desk, eyes scanning a newspaper. They still had those things?
I had to remind myself it was a slower pace here. I’d only driven several hours but it was like a whole different world when I got to this part of the state. The weather was different, the people were different, and life was a little calmer. Half the time the internet didn’t work, which was charming and frustrating at the same time.
“Hey, Noah,” Derek said, setting down the paper. “You make it in okay?”
I nodded, avoiding his striking blue eyes. Damn. I wasn’t sure how the men of Belle Resort had all ended up friends and decided to open this
resort by the lake, but they had.
“I appreciate you letting me come early,” I told him, managing to keep my voice steady. “I know it was last-minute and—”
“No worries,” he said, shrugging his shoulders in a leather jacket I could smell from here. “It’s off-season and we had the cabin open.”
“Good.”
He already had my information, the same credit card information and phone number I’d had the last four years I’d been here.
“Is the restaurant going to be open?” I asked.
“Just for dinner. But we always have coffee in the mornings—milk and cereal, that sort of thing. And Brady keeps us stocked with cold cuts for sandwiches in his cabin—as you know, you’re welcome to stop by.” Derek pointed to the rear of the office. “He’s in the cabin behind us.”
I knew full well where Brady’s cabin was. And there was no way in hell I’d just walk over there and ask for cold cuts to make a sandwich. I was way too shy for that. Besides, it definitely sounded like something one of the characters would do in my story. Walk over to the hero’s house and knock slyly on the door. Excuse me, but can I borrow a cup of sugar? I’m out. And he’d say, Sure, come on in. And that alone would lead to hot, steamy sex—probably on the kitchen counter.
Yeah, I always gave my characters scenarios that I knew would make any man’s heart race. Or any woman’s for that matter. My heroes were big, alpha males with soft hearts and raging libidos.
Basically, exactly what I fantasized about in real life but was too afraid to go for.
Life’s too short, my sister would always tell me. Just go for it.
Of course, she was on marriage number three—no, wait. Four. She’d gone for it a lot, but it had never worked out. She’d called me last week and let me know she was getting another divorce.
Another reminder that real love wasn’t…well, real. It never worked out in real life. Which was why I wrote about love and gave all my characters happily-ever-afters because I could at least have that.
It was probably the most I’d ever have in my life.
I wiped a stray drop of water from the lens of my glasses and waited while Derek pulled out a key from under the counter.
“I had to put you in cabin two this time,” he said, passing over the key. “The water from the lake was getting high and I didn’t want it to be a problem for you if you stayed in cabin one like usual. We’re going to get a lot of rain this week.”
I glanced out the window. “It’s already raining.”
He smiled, and it crinkled his eyes just the slightest bit. “That’s not rain.”
Oh. Well. I had seen it rain pretty hard here before. Sometimes for days on end. I figured this must be one of those weeks. I took the key. “No problem.”
It wasn’t. I was here to write and get away from the real world—especially my sister’s incessant calls to complain about her soon to be ex-husband. Rain would just give me more of an excuse to stay in and get work done.
As long as I could keep my mind off Brady.
“Let us know if you need anything,” Derek said before I walked back out into the rain—no, the mist.
This isn’t rain, I reminded myself with a grin.
There was inspiration all over the place here. Even my short conversation with Derek made me want to write a scene in my story. The whole place did.
My gaze made a quick sweep of the property, absently searching for Brady before I got back in the car.
I’d never stayed in cabin two before, but I didn’t care where I stayed as long as I got work done.
And the rest…keeping my brain from going overboard on Brady fantasies…well, that was wishful thinking.
But it made for good reading.
I grinned to myself again. Until my phone rang.
I checked the screen and saw my sister’s name flash across it.
Fuck. It was definitely going to be a challenging writing about true love if I had the real world trying to bombard me with the fact that it didn’t really exist.
I rolled my eyes and let her call go to voicemail. I’d call her back after I got settled and then let the real world in again.
Chapter 2
I used the stairs of the main office to wipe mud off my boots before stepping inside.
Derek frowned at me. “You’re going to clean that up.”
I grinned. “The rain will do it for me. It’s getting harder out there.”
It wasn’t what Derek wanted to hear, but it was true. No sense in worrying over something that would take care of itself. That was my motto on pretty much everything, and it had been working well for me this far.
But I supposed I didn’t have Derek’s history. There was a lot in his life that cast a shadow over his way of thinking. He’d gone through more than most of us, which was what had brought us together in the first place.
Orphans who’d finally found “brothers” in each other late in our teens. Mama Belle was just a foster mother, but she’d taken in a lot of us and made us feel like we had a real family.
Derek followed his gaze out the window before turning it back to the paper. Derek was old-fashioned that way. If he could get information without using a computer, he usually did.
I supposed it gave him some semblance of control in our ever-changing world. Drove the rest of us crazy, but what could you do?
Derek was the oldest, and even though he wasn’t my real brother, it felt like it. We teased him but respected him. He was the one who’d come up with the idea of opening Belle Resort and name it after the only woman who’d ever been a stable parental figure—and friend—in our lives.
Before I could tease Derek about his old-fashioned ways, the youngest Belle brother came through the door. Fox shook the water off his raincoat, dripping all over the floor and making Derek wince, before stepping all the way inside.
“Morning,” he said.
“Almost afternoon now,” Derek grumbled.
Fox grinned at me. “Wow. Looks like the boss is in a great mood. I thought you said I didn’t need to be in until noon today to help interview the restaurant staff.”
I nodded. “It’s true,” I told Derek. “I heard you say so yourself, just yesterday when Fox actually was late.”
“Don’t remind him,” Fox said, shaking his head. “He’s got enough on his plate anyway. Right, Boss?”
Technically, we all had an equal share in Belle Resort but since it was Derek’s idea and he was the brains behind the whole operation, we all thought of him as the boss—especially because it irritated him.
Fox ran the restaurant, which was remarkably less busy during off season. He occupied his time with entertaining a variety of guests, which was probably what put Derek in a sour mood. I’d seen a car at Fox’s cabin last night before I turned in, and for a moment, I’d been almost jealous.
I didn’t have the personality or charm that Fox did. Not to mention, being a chef was a lot more glamorous than being the handyman. But it suited me. I liked to build things, fix things, get my hands dirty. I’d shrivel up and die if I had to sit behind a desk like Derek or stand over a stove like Fox.
Not only that, lately it was the only kind of release I had. I worked myself hard so I didn’t have to remember that I went to bed alone. It had gotten worse, like it did every time this year, knowing that Noah was coming. My brothers didn’t know, but I’d had my eye on Noah since the first year he’d started coming here. I also knew it was hard as hell to get Noah to say anything more to me than a few words.
And really, did it make sense to try? He lived in the city and he clearly wasn’t interested. But damn, I still got hard at the thought of him bent over a computer with his studious glasses on, typing away on some story or another.
Funny that it was the quiet, geeky ones that turned me on. I supposed it was because Noah was so different. So soft-spoken. I wanted to get under his guard. And besides, what they said was true about opposites attracting, wasn’t it?
It was working fo
r me.
“Did I see Noah Holden drive by a few minutes ago?” Fox asked, leaning his arm on the counter.
Derek nodded. “That was him.”
“Our celebrity guest,” Fox said with a grin. “You should put his books out in the store.”
“He’d hate that,” I told Fox gruffly. “Too much attention. You know that’s why he comes here every year for a retreat instead of going to some big writer’s shindig in the city. To get away from people, not be around more of them. The less people who know he’s here, the better.”
Fox and Derek both stared at me, and I looked away, realizing I’d said too much. And to further distract myself, I went for the refrigerator at the back of the store and grabbed an iced tea.
“I can’t tell if you’re pissed off at him or halfway in love with him,” Fox said.
I gritted my teeth at Fox’s assumption. But it was so close to the truth, I couldn’t say anything. I was both. Halfway in love with him and pissed as hell about it because Noah wasn’t from here. How come I couldn’t just meet some guy in the next town over and fall for him?
Because Noah had layers I wanted to unpeel. There were other things I wanted to do to him, too, but I definitely wasn’t going to tell Derek or Fox any of that.
I downed half the iced tea in one gulp before I turned back to the desk. Fox continued to grin at me, making it clear he wanted this conversation whether or not I did.
“He came early,” Derek said. “And this time, he’s alone. No writer’s retreat. So Brady’s probably right—he just wants some space. Peace and quiet.”
Fox’s lips curved again. “Sure. But, I mean, he has to take a break sometime. Maybe I could cook him some breakfast or lunch someday and go…distract him.”
“Leave him alone,” I growled, setting the bottle on the counter. “He’s trying to work.”
“But he’s a writer,” Fox argued. “He needs inspiration.”
“A children’s author.” Derek rolled his eyes. “You’re probably not going to give him the kind of inspiration he needs.”