He Falls First: A Starlight Cove Collection

He Falls First: A Starlight Cove Collection

By Brighton Walsh

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

brADY

I pulled off the highway onto the road clearly marking Starlight Cove Resort and swept my gaze along the path, keeping my eyes peeled for anything unusual or out of place.

Or do what she was told.

Or follow the laws so I could stop arresting her.

I’d lost count of how many times I’d cuffed Starlight Cove’s newest resident, Ms. Lancaster. Her latest infraction had been the day before when she’d thought it imperative to chain herself to a tree to stop the much-needed development of a piece of unused land that bordered my family’s resort.

It must’ve been my lucky day, because I didn’t see the infuriating woman as I drove down the path dotted with cottages. Though, it was still early. She probably didn’t crawl out of her gremlin hole until at least eight, so I had a bit of a reprieve.

Outside the passenger’s window, the waves of the Atlantic Ocean crashed against the rocky shore, the water glittering from the sun.

I might’ve grown up here and spent every day of my childhood running down these gravel paths, the ocean’s roar at my back, but I’d never tired of the view. Or of this place. It was home.

I glanced at my watch, noting I had only three minutes to spare, and relaxed my shoulders as I parked in front of the main inn that’d seen better days.

This whole place had seen better days.

The furnishings in the cottages were dated, the small front porches battered, and the siding could use a good painting at the very least. The whole place was in desperate need of a giant facelift.

For an oceanfront resort, it didn’t get nearly as much occupancy as it should, though that wasn’t a surprise.

Not after a couple of big-time house flippers had swooped in during a downturn in the market, bought up a bunch of tiny bungalows on the beach, refurbed them all to look the same, and then slapped them up on the nation’s largest short-term rental site.

Tourists flocked to them, which meant some out-of-state team was pulling in the money, not the small, locally run resort that had been in our family—and in this town—for three generations.

We’d been slashing prices and increasing amenities for two years, and nothing was helping. We were barely staying afloat, and it showed. This resort—our mom’s dream—was dying a slow, painful death, and if I didn’t figure something out, and soon, it’d take the whole family with it.

Something I refused to let happen.

I slid out of my patrol car and strode to the door, pulling it open to the sound of my family bickering, as per usual.

I followed the noise past the front entry turned check-in counter and through the sitting room until I reached the once-pristine dining room.

Now, the navy-and-white striped wallpaper was peeling in random spots, the white wainscoting needed a good painting, and the floors were scuffed and faded.

Four out of five of my siblings sat around the oval table—what had once been our family dining table—their attention more on getting their morning fill of coffee than on the fact that I’d arrived just under the wire.

Even though the sun was barely up, Aiden, my Irish twin at eleven months younger than me, was already dressed in a crisp white button-up and tie, his navy suit jacket carefully folded over the back of his chair.

Why he felt the need to dress up when the few guests who stayed with us roamed around in little more than swimwear, I had no idea.

But since he was the face of the resort and ran this place day-to-day, I wasn’t going to argue.

“So nice of you to join us,” Beck grumbled. His brows were pinched as he stared at me from where he sat next to Ford—his actual twin. The antithesis of Aiden, Beck wore a plain tee, jeans, a backward baseball cap, and a scowl. “Some of us have a job to do.”

I raised an eyebrow at him as I helped myself to some coffee, then pointedly glanced down at my uniform as I brought the mug up for a sip.

I was technically on duty, but the weekly family meeting wasn’t something I could get out of.

Scratch that—it wasn’t something I wanted to get out of.

The only one who managed to do that was Levi, my youngest brother.

He only bothered to show up once a month for budgeting—and even then, only when our baby sister dragged him there.

“I’m sure Everly will wait five minutes if you’re not at the diner to open up exactly on time,” I said behind my mug.

“That’s not the point.” He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. “Our posted hours say we open at seven.”

Oh, I knew what the point was, and it had absolutely nothing to do with the posted hours and everything to do with the vivacious redhead who’d—beyond all reason—befriended Beck when she’d moved here two years ago.

“You bring any muffins, man?” Ford elbowed Beck and glanced around, as if his twin was hiding them under the table.

“We don’t have the budget to feed your ass,” Aiden said, pressing a finger to the stack of papers in front of him that detailed exactly how in the red we were.

“How about you idiots all shut the hell up so we can get started?” Addison, the youngest of our brood and only girl, said, her tone all business.

For being such a little thing, she never showed fear or backed down from any of us.

Though, she hadn’t exactly had a choice, growing up with five older, overprotective brothers who weren’t inclined to give her even an inch.

“How about you bite me?” Beck mumbled behind his coffee mug, but he turned to face her, just the same as the rest of us.

My four brothers and I may have been bigger, stronger, and older than she was, but nobody harbored a mean streak like Addison, and she had no qualms about unleashing it on us. In fact, she seemed to take great pleasure in it.

I settled into the seat next to Aiden and leaned back in the chair, taking a sip of coffee. It was black, just how I liked it, and utterly delicious. Beck ground this special blend himself, but hell if I’d let him know how much I loved it. He’d probably stop bringing it to meetings out of spite.

“Let’s get on with it, then,” I said, jerking a chin at Addison. “I can’t stay here all morning.”

Unlike the rest of you… But I left that part unsaid.

They all worked at the resort—Aiden on main desk duty, Beck running the diner, and Addison running, well, everything else.

Ford was our resort handyman in addition to his firefighter duties for the county.

And Levi was the captain of the boat tours—when he bothered to give them.

I was the only one who didn’t rely on this resort for their livelihood.

And it ate at me every day.

I loved my job, loved the routine, the certainty of it, but not a day went by that I didn’t wonder if everything would’ve been different now if I hadn’t veered off onto this path. If I’d stuck close to home and stepped into the family business instead of venturing out on my own.

Would she still be gone?

Addison stared at me as she took a slow, deliberate sip out of her coffee mug, one eyebrow raised slightly as if daring me to say a word while she took her sweet-ass time.

When my only response was a tick of my jaw, she finally cleared her throat.

“I got an email from a travel magazine, Weekend Wanderlust. They’re doing a spread on the best coastal resorts in the country, and they’re sending someone to check us out to see if we’d be a good fit. ”

Interest piqued, I sat up, bracing my elbows on the table, and leaned toward her, my brothers all mirroring my position. “Is that a popular magazine?”

“Second-largest circulation in the country.”

“Holy shit,” Ford muttered under his breath.

Addison nodded. “I don’t need to tell you guys just how important this is for the resort.

Getting selected to be included would be a huge write-up and would mean national publicity for the resort.

Which means an influx of new guests, which means an influx of money.

” She pinned each of us with a stare. “Desperately needed money.”

“Yeah, we get it,” Ford said, folding his arms behind his head as he leaned his chair back on two legs. “We’re broke. So you keep telling us.”

“She keeps telling you because nothing’s changed.

” Aiden shoved a few papers across the table toward the twins—the budget, no doubt.

I didn’t need to see it. I’d already caught a glimpse last night when I’d swung by to see him after my shift.

Right before I’d transferred some money from my account to the resort’s.

To say it wasn’t good was an understatement.

“You’ve known me for thirty-two years, so I’m not sure why you think these numbers are going to mean anything to me.” Ford passed the papers over to Beck without glancing at them. “You know I was more of a shop guy than algebra.”

“Then let me put it in clear terms for you,” Addison said. “We’re—”

“Fucked,” Beck finished for her, his eyes scanning the papers.

“Fucked,” Addison confirmed with a nod. “If we don’t figure out a way to get paying customers here, and fast, this resort is going to fold whether we want it to or not.”

I glanced around at my siblings, each of their mouths set in a grim line.

They knew as well as I did that we’d been running on fumes for far too long.

This wasn’t sustainable, but we didn’t have a choice.

Our whole lives were here, wrapped up in these nineteen cottages amid the winding road that followed the curving shore of the ocean.

The ocean that had been our backyard our entire lives.

They were in the walls of this home that we’d turned into the main inn nearly ten years ago.

“How long?” I asked, voicing the question everyone was wondering but unwilling to ask. How long did we have until we would have to call it quits?

Addison lifted a single shoulder. “Couple of months, if we’re lucky. We’re coming into tourist season, so that may save us a bit. But it’s bad.”

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