Love Drunk, page 1
Love Drunk
MOUNTAIN MEN OF CARIBOU CREEK BOOK 2
KALI HART
Love Drunk is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, 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.
Copyright © 2022 by Kali Hart
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval systems, without express written permission from the author/publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
1. Avery
2. Wes
3. Avery
4. Wes
5. Avery
6. Wes
7. Avery
8. Wes
9. Avery
10. Wes
11. Avery
12. Wes
13. Avery
14. Wes
15. Wes
16. Avery
17. Wes
18. Avery
19. Wes
Epilogue
Other Books by Kali Hart
About the Author
CHAPTER 1
Avery
“You’re my favoritest teacher ever, Ms. Nichols.” Little Tyler Parsons launches himself at me, wrapping his tiny arms around my legs with such force I nearly topple backward. He’s had a rough day involving a, thankfully, failed attempt to eat blue paint. It ended up down his shirt instead, which is why I’m expecting a phone call from his mom later when Tyler forgets to give her the note I put in his backpack explaining what happened. She won’t be happy to discover that he looks like a Smurf at bath time.
It's been a long day. But compared to what my life looked like a few months ago, these are the problems I welcome.
“Don’t forget to give your mom that note,” I call to him after he bolts to join his older brother who’s already half a block away. The sun has warmed away the cool, crisp air from earlier this morning. But with the leaves rapidly changing color, it won’t be long before the snow comes.
Secretly, I’m thrilled for winter and the promise that it’ll be harder to travel through the mountains. Harder to find me.
“That your paint eater?” Trinity Stark asks, joining me on the sidewalk outside the lone school building in Caribou Creek that houses K through twelve. She teaches high school English, but our overlapping lunch break helped spark the first true friendship I’ve found since moving here.
“That’s the one.”
“I don’t know how you do it.” Trinity stares after the last of the kids. “I’d be exhausted if I had to wrangle kindergarteners all day.”
“I’d lose my mind if I had to deal with high schoolers and all that attitude.”
“Hey, there’s a kick boxing class tonight. Want to come with me?” The hopefulness in Trinity’s eyes nearly makes me cave. It’s the same look she’s given me the last three times she’s asked. But my determination to avoid the instructor, who also happens to be my incredibly hot landlord, makes it easy to turn the offer down.
“Not tonight.”
“You painting your bathroom ceiling again?” Trinity teases, though I don’t miss the edge of suspicion in her voice. She’s both curious and concerned. It’s sweet of her to look out for me, but I’m trying really hard to find my independence. Getting close to someone and sharing the details of my nightmarish past isn’t high on my list. If I take her up on her equally repeated offers of kickboxing or happy hour at the Caribou Creek Brewery, I know I’ll divulge too much.
After a toxic relationship gone way wrong, I promised myself I wouldn’t rely on anyone ever again. Realizing I might’ve been a little dramatic on that declaration, I revised it to a more realistic year. Just one year to prove to myself that I can survive without leaning on anyone else.
Though a kick boxing class is hardly a threat to my plan, Wes Ashburn definitely is. Because my resolve also includes a non-negotiable no-dating policy.
Not that Wes has asked me out.
But the way he looks at me whenever we run into each other makes me feel like he wants to. Makes me feel like I’d like it if he did. That I’d find it difficult to tell him no. Avoiding him is much easier. Even if it means staying away from the brewery he owns with his brothers or skipping out on kick boxing classes I really want to try.
“I’m really tired. It’s been a long day with the blue paint catastrophe and all.”
“All the more reason to come. I promise you’ll feel so much better after you kick around a bag for an hour.”
“Maybe next time.”
“Okay, I’ll stop pushing.” Trinity offers me a kind smile that suggests she truly wants to be my friend and isn’t intimidated by all my kicking and screaming about it. She doesn’t even seem to be keeping track of how many times I’ve blown her off. “But one of these days, I’ll convince you to come.”
In my classroom, I take my time gathering my things and cleaning up. I wait until I see Trinity’s car drive away and hear only the squeak of the janitor’s cart down the hall before I sneak out. I don’t want to admit my car wouldn’t start this morning and have to walk home. I need to get a new battery, but I also need to make my rent payment this week. It’s not one of those have my cake and eat it too kind of weeks.
With fall in the air and the sun warming my face, I don’t mind the walk. The fresh air helps ease my worries away.
Caribou Creek is packed with small-town charm and friendly people. Though I’ll never stop locking my door at night or looking over my shoulder at every little sound, I do breathe easier here. I don’t know how long the peace will last. Eventually, Lucas will find me. It’s inevitable. The only way I might’ve prevented that was to move to the lower forty-eight. But I wasn’t going to let him chase me out of Alaska. I love it here too much.
“Ms. Nichols, how lovely to see you,” Hattie Kohl greets as I hold the door to the grocery store open for her. Her grandmotherly smile is warm enough to thaw even the coldest hearts. “I hear great things about our new kindergarten teacher. The kids sure do love you.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Kohl. That’s very kind of you to say.” The compliment makes my heart swell. All I’ve ever wanted is to find a place that accepted me as one of their own. I thought I had that in Fairbanks, but it was mostly an illusion I created to keep myself sane when the reality was really sideways. “Making something good for dinner tonight?”
“Chicken pot pie. Buttering Harold up before I tell him we’ve added an extra bridge night to the calendar this month.”
If I wasn’t only twenty-five or allergic to socialization, I might ask to join them. I’ve heard whispers that their bridge nights are really a cover for something more scandalous. It’s anyone’s guess who isn’t in their immediate circle. I think they’re playing black jack, but I’ve even heard rumors about strip poker. “That sounds wonderful. Have a good evening.”
Hattie sets her hand on my shoulder, and looks me in the eye, as if she wants to make sure I hear what she’s about to say. “You’re home here, Ms. Nichols. It’s okay to believe it.” With those words of wisdom, she strolls to her car.
Home.
I want to believe it.
But it’s going to take some time for me to unpack that duffle bag beside my bed.
I gather a few ingredients to fulfill my spaghetti craving and continue on my way. I don’t mean to pass by the fitness studio, but it cuts two blocks off my walk. My feet are starting to ache from having been on them all day.
Or maybe what I really want is a glimpse of Wes Ashburn.
I see him through the glass front. Hands behind his back as he walks back and forth watching his students kick and punch padded cylinders. In his tight black t-shirt and gym shorts, all of his hard muscles are on display. I’ve longed to comb my fingers through his dark beard more than once. Especially in my dreams where I can’t seem to get myself under control.
I don’t realize I’m staring until his gaze locks with mine. A smile slowly spreads across his perfect lips and he nods. My pulse doubles at the attention I shouldn’t want. At the thrill I shouldn’t feel. At the way my nipples pebble, the damn things pointing in his direction because they’re aching for his touch.
I send him back a pitifully quick wave before I hurry down the sidewalk and turn the corner. Running away like the chicken I am.
If only I didn’t have such a fucked up past I needed to recover from, maybe I could entertain a crush on the sinfully hot brew master. But I can’t afford the distraction, no matter how badly I may want to climb Wes like a tree.
CHAPTER 2
Wes
“You get all that residual grain cleaned out of the top of the tank?” I ask our new hire, Tanner. It’s only his third day working at the brewery, so I’m cutting him a little slack with remembering everything. But I’m not going to let him get out of the work that needs to be done. He’s a smart kid. Well, kid to me because he turned twenty-one a week before starting. Twelve years younger than me makes him a kid.
“Oh, right.”
“Make sure you get it all. Liam’s coming to pick it up for his livestock tonight.”
“Cows in the mountains,” Zac says with a headshake as he strolls inside the br
Cows aren’t unheard of in Alaska, but they’re rare. “It gets colder in Fairbanks. They manage.” I glance at Tanner, just to let him know I’m watching. “But they’re hungry,” I say to the kid.
“Got plenty of grain for them,” he answers with a thumbs up.
I look back at my youngest brother. “It slow in the taproom or you just trying to sneak out early again?” Zac is the first of us Ashburn brothers to become a father. He’s still not back to working full time hours—much to our oldest brother’s disdain—but my nephew is only two and half months old. Something Ben can’t quite grasp with his too-logical, unemotional brain.
“Need to head out early, but don’t tell The Grinch.” It’s no secret that Ben is a growly pain the ass. He only knows how to smile when he’s interacting with clients and vendors. Not even his hoity-toity city girlfriend seems to make that permanently etched frown go away. But I know exactly why that is. Hell, Zac and I both do. But Benny Poo, as I call him because I love how pissed off he looks when I do, won’t do shit about the real problem. So, he remains permanently grumpy.
“You do know you’re one third owner, right?” I remind Zac. “That means one third in charge.”
“Who’s in charge?” Ben appears like a bad cold—undetected and unwanted until it’s too late to do anything about it.
Tanner looks like he’s about to answer the question, but I catch him with a stern look. He might mean well, or maybe he’s trying to be funny, but the kid doesn’t need to be on Ben’s shit list his first week. It’s a hard list to get off of.
“Grandma June sent me a text,” Zac says, wisely shifting the conversation to a topic Ben can’t resist. Despite his brooding nature, he does love Grandma June. “She and Grandpa just landed in Anchorage. They’re picking up a rental car and heading to town tonight.” Zac folds his arms over his chest and looks to Ben. “Which is why I need to head home. I need to help Riley get their room set up. She didn’t get any sleep last night.”
As expected, Ben’s hardened expression doesn’t change.
“Give it up,” I say to Zac. “There’s block of glacial ice where his heart should be.”
“Knock it off,” Ben growls, not entertained at all by our ribbing. Which, because we’re brothers, only makes us want to up our game.
“They could stay with you,” I say to Ben, “But Grandma June and Kat would probably pluck each other’s eyes out within a day.” Zac and I have a bet going about how Grandma June’s going to feel about Ben’s girlfriend. And how long it takes her to call bullshit on the whole relationship. Grandma June is not known for biting her tongue when she has an opinion. I only hope I have the popcorn ready when the fun begins.
“Got someone to cover?” Ben asks Zac, ignoring me entirely.
“Decker’s covering the front.”
After the few seconds it seems to take him to process, Ben nods. Never mind that the decision is not his. We’re equal owners. We can come and go as we please. Even without us hovering, there are more than enough employees to cover. But that doesn’t mean I’m about to announce to Ben how often I slip out for an hour here or there to make quick repairs on rentals I own.
“Kat coming to town soon?” Zac asks Ben. “Grandma June will want to know for family dinner.”
My stomach rumbles at the mere thought of her cooking. I have many talents, but cooking isn’t one of them. I can’t remember the last time I had a good, home cooked meal I didn’t have to buy. “Is she taking requests?”
“Katherine’s coming in the morning.” Ben’s scowl only deepens because he’s asked us not to call her Kat more than a hundred times since the sham relationship began. One I’m certain is a whole lot more about business than anything else. A five-year-old could guess that there’s no love between them. Or even affection.
Before I can get in a jab about it, my phone vibrates. I pull it from my pocket and damn near drop it when I see Avery Nichol’s name on the screen. She’s the most low-maintenance tenant I have. I never hear from her aside from monthly rent payments. Though a part of me wishes that was different. Very different.
Avery: My kitchen sink’s leaking. Can you come take a look?
I know how complicated things could get if I got involved with one of my tenants, but Avery’s done something to me I can’t begin to explain. Since the first day I met her months ago, she’s managed to worm her way into my thoughts, my fantasies, and my dreams. My pulse triples every time I run into her in town. It damn near went berserk last night when she walked by the fitness studio and waved.
Wes: Be there in 5
I leave my brothers arguing and instruct Tanner to clean out the tank once he has all the grain out. Promising I’ll be back in an hour to inspect his work, I feel Ben’s scowl burn into the back of my head as I leave. But I don’t bother looking back. Avery could’ve requested I come change a burnt-out lightbulb and I would’ve left with the same urgency.
I try to tell myself it’s curiosity. She’s so closed off from everyone. Surely, if I was able to peel back the layers, I’d lost interest. Right?
I haven’t dated anyone since I moved back to Caribou Creek a few years ago, and for good reason. The last thing I should be entertaining is getting involved with a woman I hardly know. A woman who’s clearly keeping secrets.
So why does she seem to consume my every waking thought?
CHAPTER 3
Avery
My sweatshirt is soaked completely through. As is the upper half of my jeans and most of my hair. I’m damn near tears, but only because I finally admitted defeat with the stupid pipe under the kitchen sink. What started out as a simple drip has turned into a complete catastrophe.
I had no choice.
I had to text my landlord.
Wes shows up so quickly I don’t even have time to change. Which is just as well, because I’m not trying to look my best for him. If I look like hot mess—well a wet one anyway—maybe he won’t look at me with that hint of desire and longing. A look that’s plagued my dream for weeks now.
“You okay?” he asks the instant I open the door and he spots me.
It takes incredible restraint not to look him up and down. To pretend that the sight of him in that tight t-shirt and low-slung jeans isn’t doing funny things to my insides. All the Ashburn brothers are attractive, but Wes is definitely the hottest of the trio.
“Believe it or not, the pipe under the kitchen sink is in worse shape.” I step back, allowing him inside. I clutch the door with both hands, realizing he’s the first person I’ve allowed past the front stoop since he handed me the keys. Or maybe it’s because Wes is invading my personal space, which in some of my dirtiest fantasies starring the brew master, is exactly what I crave most.
“Mind if I take a look?”
“Go for it.” I did manage to mop up the river of water making an escape, but I’ve left a trail of every towel I own in its place. “I shut the water off,” I tell him, hoping he won’t think I’m completely clueless. I learned how to do a lot of things on my own. Having only one parent who was more interested in her revolving door of boyfriends than anything else left me to fend for myself a lot. But even my go-to YouTube channels couldn’t help me out of the mess I created today.
“Smart girl,” he says, flashing me an approving smile that makes me weak in the knees. Hotness this lethal isn’t fair.
To my amazement, Wes doesn’t flinch or fall over from shock when he sees the kitchen. He simply turns to me, offering a reassuring smile. “I’ve got this. Why don’t you get changed? You have to be freezing.”
