Chapter 1
1
ASPEN
T his could quite possibly be the biggest mistake of my life.
Or my best idea ever.
My already nauseous stomach rolled, bile creeping up the back of my throat with every wave that slammed against the small boat. Wait. Was something this size considered a boat or a ship? What was the difference between the two?
Fuck if I knew or cared about the floating vessel’s classification at the moment. My focus was split between not throwing up and berating myself for forgoing that preventive Dramamine or emergency Xanax before boarding, despite debating the need for either or both. When booking this rash, totally unplanned, somewhat extremely careless adventure, I had three options. A tiny seaplane—no, thank you—the ancient charter bus from the airport to Anchor Bay, which would take over three hours—hard pass—or boat. This was a more direct route, aside from the plane, and I assumed the boat trip would be more fun, making it an exciting way to start the trip.
I chose wrong.
Seemed to be a running theme in my life as of late.
With both palms pressed against my stomach to help quell the sloshing, I twisted around on the hard plastic seat and eyed the man behind the massive chrome wheel. But if he noticed my pleading stare for him to slow down, he didn’t give a flying fuck, because his gaze stayed locked out front, actively ignoring me.
Fine.
Blowing out a calming breath, I swiveled back around to face the front, port side?—I should really have done a little more research on watercrafts to keep from spewing the cheap white wine I downed on the turbulent flight here. This trip was supposed to be relaxing, helping me to forget about the asshole and the horrible job I left behind in Seattle. A break from my lonely reality in the peaceful serenity of Mother Nature.
Peaceful, my ass.
“How much longer?” I shouted to be heard over the roar of the motor and the slam of the waves against the hull. I mentally raised my fist, super proud of myself for knowing that one.
“Soon enough,” grumbled the guy as he shifted his stance to turn his body away from where I sat.
Rude.
It was fine. I was fine.
Everything was fucking fine.
If I said it a few more times, maybe my rattled nerves and racing heart would believe me. Though I couldn’t blame all my tension on the boat ride, the somewhat-hot asshole, or the bumpy flight. Yesterday, I’d essentially up and walked away from the little life I’d built in Seattle over the last five years. A great life, I guess, from the outside looking in.
Which, even from the inside, wasn’t that bad.
I had a stable, highly sought-after job as an adventure photographer with an acclaimed outdoor magazine, even though it had turned into less of what I loved and more into following James Peoples around, making sure he had the perfect shots and pictures as he demanded and knew I could provide.
The man himself wasn’t rude or mean and didn’t do anything I didn’t want to happen, even though when things did turn physical between us, it was because he needed something from me, or I had threatened to leave because I was over helping him chase his dream instead of my own. The man I fell into infatuation with and then slowly fell out of it over the years wasn’t a narcissist who made me walk on eggshells or physically hurt me. We were the power duo everyone in the outdoor-loving world watched from the sidelines, thinking we had it all. The duo I hated being a part of a little more every day that I saw him shift from extreme outdoor adventurer to… whatever the hell he had become with his rise of fame.
James also never promised me a relationship, though he liked to lead me on or flirt so I’d do his bidding and ensure his photos were perfect. We had this toxic thing between us that I couldn’t seem to find my way out of… until yesterday morning.
When I walked in on him eating out our editor on the conference room table.
Full on, him on his knees with his face between her thighs and her legs wrapped around his head. That had been a shock, considering one, he hated going down on women—or so he said in the past—and two, because, well, I was suddenly smacked in the face with the fact that I wasn’t the only one he was leading on or keeping in the wings for when he “needed” me. There was something about hearing another woman moan the name of the man who you had given up so much for and followed around the world for three years that made you reconsider things.
Between blinks, I realized following him around and documenting his career made him happy, not me.
Helping him from the sidelines to become a household name made him happy, not me.
Dropping everything when he called because he “needed me” made him happy, not me.
The few instances of mediocre sex were something to look forward to and put up with all the other bullshit for, weren’t they?
Okay, even I knew the last one was a lie. But not every guy was amazing in bed or had a dick that could make you moan just by looking at it. James was adventurous, exciting, and enthralling. Every guy wanted to be him, and every woman wanted to be with him. He knew how to play that card, manipulating people to get what he wanted.
Including our editor.
Realizing all that while backing out of the conference room so I could pour bleach into my eyes was like a punch to the gut while a dull knife dug into my heart.
He used me.
And I allowed it.
The fucker never wanted me. He only wanted what I could do for his career by taking the best shots, finding the most fantastic and unknown destinations, and dropping everything when he needed me, like a clingy little puppy desperate for an ounce of attention.
“Fuck my life,” I muttered under my breath. “The bastard turned me into a touch-starved puppy. Awesome.”
So, instead of confronting the asshole like an adult, I’d marched to my desk, grabbed what personal belongings I could from my cubicle, and stormed out. Not that anyone followed. James was too busy eating Barbara’s cunt to notice me catching him or leaving.
Barbara, though… oh, she saw me. And winked.
Clue number one that the devouring happening on the polished mahogany wood wasn’t a first-time offense. She didn’t look surprised to see me or that concerned.
No, she looked like the cat who ate the canary.
Or the cat who was getting eaten?
Fuck my life.
Face in both palms, I inhaled deeply, the stench of fish and saltwater filling my nose. I was fine. What was most shocking was that I actually was fine. There were no tears or hurt lingering from what I saw and left behind. That should be a major sign that maybe I wasn’t as happy in the little life I’d carved out in Seattle after all. The second sign was a very unsuspected emotion.
Relief.
Profound relief that I was finally done and out of that toxic web that I had helped weave. Though I didn’t realize it at the time, all I was doing was trapping myself in a life I didn’t want or love.
I was so damn relieved that I’d finally cut all ties with that dumbass. Three years of working side by side together, and I was relieved that it was done. The web was demolished, and I was free to sprint far, far away to the one little town in Alaska that had been on my bucket list for far too long.
“This is a new start,” I said out loud. “A new me.”
“Good for you.”
Instead of responding to the surly driver—erm, captain, maybe—I flipped him the bird over my shoulder and pressed a hot cheek to the cold glass. This was my new start at twenty-eight years old. Where maybe I could excavate the parts of me I used to love, remember the areas of life I was passionate about, and bring them back to the surface. And this resort in Anchor Bay was the best place for me to do just that. The Nest was all about helping you find inner peace through isolation and living among Mother Nature.
Hopefully, Mother Nature would take pity on me and was kinder than that ho Fate.
I must have nodded off at some point, because the next thing I knew, the boat’s engines were more of a purr than a roar, and the rocking motion was not nearly as seasick inducing. Licking my dry lips and wiping at the corners for drool, I blinked away the sleep coating my eyes and sat up straight, back cracking with the quick movement.
“We’re here,” a deep voice rumbled, reminding me I wasn’t alone.
With my back turned, I rolled my eyes to the cloudy sky. I bit my tongue to keep from snapping at the grumpy asshole. Pretty sure the approaching bustling dock filled with boats of all sizes and adorable, small, brightly painted buildings indicated that we were finally here.
Once, a long time ago, it was a place for hopeful gold miners to strike it rich, but now, it was a tiny Alaskan town that had been revitalized and turned into a secret gem for nature lovers and extreme sports lovers alike. Though the town itself was small, the population less than a thousand, it was the starting point to many trails, amazing salmon fishing, and, in the winter, all kinds of various snow-centered activities.
Anchor Bay.
Place of my unforeseen dreams and holder of all my hopes.
No pressure, town, but I need a lot from you.
Without a word, the grumpy guy secured the boat to the dock and motioned for me to disembark. I stood on unsteady legs from the gentle rocking motion, looping the strap of my weighed-down satchel over my head. The driver attempted to take it from me when I first boarded the boat to secure it with the rest of my luggage, but I’d refused to let it out of my sight. Between the top-of-the-line laptop with all the editing software, my camera, and various lenses I almost needed to sell an organ to purchase, everything inside was too valuable to allow someone else to handle it.
My feet hit the sturdy wooden dock, which groaned beneath my weight, and a few grumbling fishermen dodged me as I paused, giving myself a second to take it all in.
So, this was it. A chance to step away from reality, and the life I hated yet forced myself to live day after day for the last few years, and find myself again.
The two overstuffed duffel bags crammed full of all my hiking gear and anything else that was clean at the time of my rushed packing were slapped to the damp planks by my feet.
“Your ride will be here soon. You can meet him in that parking lot.”
Narrowing my eyes, I stared up at the massive asshole. “What is your problem? Did I do or say something that pissed you off, or are you always this damn moody?”
He crossed his thick arms over his chest and widened his stance as if preparing for a fight. With an arrogant look, he stared down at me, not saying a word.
“Really, Lang.” The voice at my back had the man shifting his glare over my shoulder. “Making the resort guests feel all warm and fuzzy with your stimulating conversation skills, I see.”
With a huffed laugh, I turned to find a man heading our way wearing a wide, inviting, and somewhat mischievous grin.
“Sorry about Langston,” he said, pausing in front of me. “He’s grouchy on the best day, but before he left to pick you up, a certain someone got under his skin?—”
“Knock it off, Aiden,” the burly man behind me practically growled. “Grab her stuff and get going. We have a meeting in an hour that we’ll both be late for if you don’t hurry the fuck up.”
“Charming,” I scoffed.
“Don’t take offense,” the Aiden guy fake whispered as he grabbed the two Army green duffel bags I brought along for this adventure and lifted them like they weighed nothing. “He just needs to get laid.” With a dramatic wink in Langston’s direction, Aiden stepped around me. “If you’re ready to get your adventure started—” He adjusted his hold on the thick straps and inclined his head down the dock. “—then let’s go.”
“Aspen. Aspen Carter,” I whispered, my mind still reeling as I took in the sights. And I wasn’t just in awe of the colorful wooden buildings lined up along the shore, raised high above the water by sturdy stilts, or the groups of fishermen laughing and working all around me. Despite my new and breathtaking surroundings, I couldn’t stop my gaze from slipping back to the stupidly hot man.
Classically handsome, almost pretty features fit perfectly on his heart-shaped face. A scar bisected his right eyebrow, which added to his good looks rather than took away from them. Light brown hair streaked with natural golden highlights fell across his forehead, which he constantly had to flip out of the way. It looked soft and perfect to run my fingers through. His caramel-colored eyes seemed to sparkle anytime our gazes clashed, almost as if he liked what he saw just as much as I did. Though that was probably wishful thinking, my desperate loneliness creating something that wasn’t there. Because why would he like what he saw? I wasn’t anything special. Average height, average build, dark brown eyes that were a little too big for my face, and thick wild almost-black hair, which was currently tied up in a knot that I wasn’t sure I’d ever untangle. He was far out of my league.
“Well, Aspen, I’m Aiden. Welcome to Anchor Bay.” With the end of my duffel, he urged me in the direction he came from, gently tapping it against my thigh. The solid wood planks were slick beneath the soles of my hiking boots, making each step slow and cautious to keep from falling on my ass or slipping right into the bay. “The resort’s SUV is in the parking lot. We’ll get your stuff loaded up and head that way. It’s not far, twenty minutes or so.”
“You work for the resort?” I asked while maneuvering around a thick coiled rope lying in the middle of our path.
“Not technically. I work for a local adventure and rescue company, Uplift Adventure and Rescue. I had just dropped off a couple back at the resort after their motorbike expedition when the owner asked me to help out. We’re a tight-knit community around here, so it wasn’t a problem. We support each other however we need to, even if that’s saving unsuspecting victims from Langston’s grumpy ass. Sorry again about him. He’s had a stick up his ass the last few weeks.”
I hummed a noncommittal response, not sure how to respond, too stuck on how he described the community in Anchor Bay. A tight-knit community sounded glorious, even though I knew it came with its own set of challenges. Back in Seattle, there was no community, not even within the magazine I worked for. Many times, when traveling with James and the TV production crew, I felt utterly alone. It was odd that on individual assignments that sent me deep into the mountains or hikes where I wouldn’t see anyone for days, I never felt lonely. Yet in a city full of people, surrounded by bodies and those I knew personally, the ache of loneliness was sometimes so heavy it felt hard to take a full breath.
“Are you meeting someone here?” Aiden asked, drawing me out of my depressing thoughts.
“Nope,” I said with a smile. “Just me and my camera for an entire week.”
“Ah, you’re a photographer.” I nodded. “Well, people come from all around the world to capture the sights Alaska has to offer. I’m sure you’ll find plenty to photograph.”
Right now, I just wanted to snap every aspect of the adorable town. Maybe all remote Alaskan villages were as cute as this one, but there was a vibrancy that pulsed off the people who passed along the dock and shone off the bright buildings that made me think this place was unique, special even.
“That’s us.” I trailed behind Aiden, actively trying to keep my attention off his firm ass and not stare at the way his corded arms flexed and moved, stretching the cuffs of his snug T-shirt while carrying my heavy luggage toward an older safari-type Land Rover with The Nest’s logo stamped on the hood. “Go ahead and hop in. I’m sure you’re ready to get out of the wind. I’ll load these two bags really quick.”
The mention of the cool breeze rushing off the water had me wrapping both arms around myself like that would ward off the chill. For mid-May, it was still cold to me, even with the afternoon sun attempting to break through the clouds. I had heard that the weather this time of year was notorious for changing on a dime. After climbing into the stiff seat and slamming the passenger door behind me, I secured the seat belt. Fingers tingling from the cold, I rubbed both hands together and blew bursts of hot air between them.
Good thing I packed for the various weather possibilities, or my first stop would be the outfitting store at the resort, where the prices would no doubt be ten times the cost back home.
Home.
Was that even what my tiny apartment back in Seattle was?
Maybe I should just give up the big-city life, admit that Mom was right, and head home to Utah, where my family still lived. Mom would welcome me home after reminding me how she told me photography wasn’t a sound career choice, and Dad, well, he’d just put me to work on the ranch, grateful to have an extra set of hands and not really caring why I was home, just glad that I was.
But I didn’t want to go home. I didn’t want to admit defeat just yet. I had enough money saved up to get through a few months without the steady income of a paycheck. That should be plenty of time to grab some amazing shots I could sell online.
The SUV jostled, pulling my gaze from the baby blue-painted coffee shop, as Aiden lumbered behind the wheel and slammed his door shut. After turning the key and firing up the engine, he shifted in the seat to face me.
“All set?” I offered a reluctant nod. His lips pressed in a tight line before responding. “That’s not super convincing, Aspen.”
I should not love the way his deep voice sounded when he said my name.
Clearing my throat, I forced a smile. “Yes, I’m ready.”
“Ready for…?” he asked, running a hand across his lips as he studied me with a curious look in his searching eyes. It took me a second to realize he was seriously asking me, as if he could tell I was lost, just winging this whole adventure, which I totally was.
I blew out a breath, my smile turning genuine. “Everything, I guess. For a fresh start, a new adventure, and a new me.”
A dimple popped on each cheek as Aiden’s smile grew. “Well, then, it’s a good thing you chose Anchor Bay.”
“Why is that?”
“Because that’s why we all came here.”
I arched a brow. “And you found it here in Alaska?”
His eyes sparkled. “Anchor Bay, yeah. Every damn day, Aspen. Every damn day is something new and exciting, and, after meeting you, I know today will be no different. You’re going to shake things up around here. I can see it now.”
With that, he shoved the gearshift into First and pulled out of the parking spot.
Brows furrowed, I studied his profile as we exited the lot, only turning to look out the window as we drove down the main street.
What in the hell did he mean by that?
I wouldn’t bring anything new or exciting to the table. It was probably a line he told all the resort guests.
Yeah, that had to be it.
Which really sucked, because I desperately wanted it to be true.