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  BEAUDEN

  WILD KNIGHT’S RIDGE MOUNTAIN MEN

  LANA DASH

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2020 by LANA DASH

  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.

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  1

  BEAUDEN

  Sitting in a booth in Hal’s Diner, I ignore my brothers as they discuss the issue with our roof at the lodge. It’s been a problem for a while, but after the storm we had a few weeks ago, the situation is more serious. Instead, I focus my attention staring out the large window next to me that overlooks the parking lot. A silver Volvo pulls in, and it stands out like a sore thumb among the row of beat-up trucks. The driver’s side door opens, and a pair of shapely legs and bare feet step out. I sit up, eager to see who those legs belong to. I only catch glimpses of this mysterious woman—blonde wavy hair and red-tipped nails as she slips on her blue heels and steps out of the car.

  I watch as she does a little shake of her curvy hips and runs her hands over her ample ass to adjust her skirt. My dick twitches. I wish those were my hands feeling the soft curve of her ass. The woman turns, and our eyes lock. I give her a lopsided grin, as her cheeks turn a bright shade of pink.

  A hand moves in front of my eyes and waves around. “Earth to Beauden. Did you hear anything I just said?”

  I blink and turn back to the table and find both my brothers watching me. Bridger’s eyes narrow in annoyance, while Brodie’s crinkle with amusement. I look back to the window again, but she’s gone. Instead, she’s walking towards the front door of the diner.

  “Beauden!”

  “Yeah, I heard you.”

  “What’d I say?” Bridger asks.

  “You said that since Iris has been in New York, packing up her stuff, you’ve been a surly bastard, likely due to the back up in your blue balls.”

  Brodie snorts into his coffee mug.

  “That’s not what I said,” Bridger grumbles.

  “I know, but we’re all thinking it. So, do us all a favor, and tug one out in the bathroom.”

  If we were back at the lodge, I’d be dodging his fists right about now. Since we are in public, all Bridger can do is glare at me. Ever since the love of his life came back to town, and he somehow managed to win her back, he’s been walking around like the emoji with hearts in his eyes. I’ve been giving him crap for it every day since, but I can’t help but feel a bit like the poop emoji.

  Living in a small mountain town like Knight’s Ridge, the dating pool is often limited to the same women you grew up with. The same ones who knew you when you went through that awkward, lanky phase in middle school before puberty hit, and people called you Pizza Face.

  I can’t remember the last time I went on a date that, at some point in the evening, she didn’t say, “Do you remember that time…” Insert embarrassing story about me. I need to meet someone new if I’m ever going to find a wife.

  “Aiden said that he wouldn’t be able to work on the roof for another few weeks,” Brodie says, bringing my attention back to the conversation. “That storm did considerable damage to a few homes that take higher priority.”

  “I can do some patchwork until he can come in and replace the whole thing,” I offer.

  “Me too,” Brodie adds.

  “Okay, sounds good.” Bridger pulls out his wallet and tosses a few bills on the table to cover the meal. “We better head out. We still need to pick up some supplies before our new guest arrives.”

  AMERIN

  The door of the diner chimes overhead when I walk in, and I’m greeted with the scent of greasy goodness. I love diner food. It loves my hips more, seeing as it goes straight there whenever I eat it. Stick to a salad, Amerin.

  I glance around the diner, not sure what my contact, Arlo Crenshaw, looks like. We’ve only talked on the phone before today, but he said to meet him here. A hand shoots up over a row of heads and waves me down. I walk towards the booth he’s sitting in but catch the eye of the man from the window. The same gorgeous man that caught me trying to adjust my skirt in the parking lot. It’s my fault for not looking around before I did it, but it was a long drive from Charlotte and an even longer flight from Chicago. I’m just lucky he didn’t catch me digging out my thong. That sucker has needed extraction for too long, and I fear it’s lost forever.

  “Miss Cavenaugh.” Arlo extends out his hand to me, and I take it. He’s younger than I imagined him to be. He only looks a few years older than my twenty-eight years.

  “Mr. Crenshaw, it's nice to meet face to face finally." I slide into the booth across from him.

  A waitress walks over and sets down two plates of fried chicken and potato salad.

  “I hope you don’t mind me ordering for you. Hal’s fried chicken is a Knight’s Ridge specialty and shouldn’t be missed.”

  I put my hand over my stomach when it growls loudly in response.

  “They didn’t feed us on the plane.”

  Arlo smiles and pushes my plate closer to me. I take a bite and have to hold in the groan that wants to come out the moment the crispy, seasoned meat touches my tongue. I’ve been to countless high-end, five-star restaurants in Chicago, and I've never had a near orgasmic response like this before.

  “What do you think?”

  “Best I’ve ever tasted.” I wipe my mouth with my napkin. “Thank you.”

  Gorgeous Window Guy walks by our table with two other men. The smile he’s sporting at me falters when he notices my lunch companion. I wonder for a moment what that’s all about.

  “I’ve made arrangements for you to speak at the town council meeting tonight to discuss your company's plans for building the resort.” Arlo draws my attention back to him.

  “Thank you for setting that up. We want to be as transparent as possible with the people of Knight’s Ridge. Make sure that everyone hears about the opportunities this resort will bring to the community.”

  I want to roll my eyes at my own words. I’m just the junior associate that drew the short straw to come here and smooth everything over with the locals. I’ve been given key phrases like that explicitly designed to put them at ease.

  I don’t like the feeling I get when I have to do this part of my job. I hate Public Relations. I'm always having to spin and make a bad thing look shiny and pretty. I only took the job because my student loan bills weren’t going to pay for themselves. My dream is to do more design work. Find places that need help and breathe new life back into them. Not just wipe out an old business and replace it with a lifeless corporate version.

  After lunch, Arlo gives me instructions on how to get to the hotel I’ll be staying at while I’m here. When I turn down the dirt drive following it to the end as instructed, I wonder if I got turned around somewhere because what I’m looking at isn’t a hotel. It’s a lodge.

  The front door swings open, and Gorgeous Window Guy walks out. His broad shoulders and handsome smile, directed right at me, has my lady bits fluttering.

  “Crap.”

  2

  AMERIN

  “Are you stalking me?” he asks as I get out of the car. “I mean, I’m not opposed to the idea, but I think that if you let a guy in on your plan, he’d be much more accommodating.”

  The smug smile on his face starts a war inside me, p
itting the urge to roll my eyes against the girlish giggle creeping up my throat.

  “Actually, I’m here to check-in.” I close my car door.

  “Even better.” He jogs forward and beats me to my trunk, grabbing my suitcase and leading me towards the front door. He holds it open for me, and I can't resist the extra-long inhale to enjoy the rich woodsy scent of his aftershave as I pass him to enter.

  I look around. The lodge seems to have been built in the early part of the nineteenth century. The upkeep has been patchy at best, but I can see potential in a place like this. What I wouldn’t give to work here and restore this place to its original glory.

  A collage of framed photographs hang on the wall, ranging from black and white pictures of the lodge being built to what I imagine, is the most recent photo of five guys grinning as they stand around an older woman. My eyes find Gorgeous Window Guy on the end, and I can’t help but smile.

  "See something you like?" He whispers in my ear, making me jump. I elbow him in the stomach. It was an accident—sort of. Not that it matters. He barely flinches at the impact, likely do to the chest of muscle under that flannel shirt.

  “Yes,” I turn to him. “Who are these other good-looking guys?”

  His gaze narrows on me. I imagine he’s used to women swooning over him. While inwardly, I may be one of those women, I’ll be damned if I’m about to let him know that.

  "Please let me apologize for my son. I raised him better than that.” A female voice interrupts us, and we each step back. I look and recognize the older woman from the photo as she walks towards us, holding a plate of cookies.

  “Momma, I didn’t do—”

  She gives him a look that shuts him up quickly.

  "Well, if you haven't done anything yet, I’m sure you’re well on your way to doing so.” She holds out the plate towards me. “Cookie? They’re fresh out of the oven.”

  I shouldn’t after eating fried chicken for lunch, but I wonder if it would offend her in some way if I didn’t take one.

  “Thank you.” I pick the smallest one I can find and a napkin that she offers me.

  “Beauden, please get our lovely guest checked in. Her room is all set, and I'm sure she'd like to rest a bit."

  A nap sounds fantastic right now. Plus, I need time to prepare my remarks for the council meeting.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Beauden slips behind the front desk.

  “I’d also like to let you know our town council meeting will be in the lobby here tonight. They are expecting a large turnout. Many people are looking forward to hearing what you have to say.”

  I freeze, not sure if this Southern hospitality is just for show and I’m about to get my Northern ass handed to me.

  “Thank you, ma’am,” I say, taking my cue from Beauden.

  She smiles sweetly and pats my shoulder. “Don’t look so worried, dear.”

  Beauden tries to carry my bag upstairs, but I stop him.

  "I've got it," I tell him reaching for the handle. I swear I feel a zing of electricity the moment our fingers touch.

  “It’s not a problem, Miss Cavenaugh.”

  “You can call me Amerin.”

  He smiles like he’s just won some sort of victory. Heat pools in my lower belly, and I know that I'm going to need to be careful with this guy.

  BEAUDEN

  The lobby is filling up for the town council meeting when I notice Amerin walking down the steps. She looks around at all the people gathered. She’s no longer wearing the tight skirt I imagined tearing off her all afternoon. She’s in dress pants and a sleeveless silk blouse. Her skin looks smoother than the fabric. I imagine running my hands down her arms when my brother's fiancée’s voice cuts into my musing.

  “Is that her?” Iris asks.

  “Yep.” Bridger nods, pulling her closer to him.

  She surprised him this afternoon, rolling in with her giant moving van. We all pitched in to get her settled as quickly as possible. After tonight, I’ll bet we won’t be seeing much of Bridger for the next few days.

  “And you say she’s completely immune to Beauden’s charms?”

  “What have you been telling her?” I glare at both of them.

  “Just the truth. That you finally met a woman that isn't falling over herself to be with you, and you can't stand it.” He leans in and whispers, “Whose got the blue balls now?”

  Dick.

  I resist the urge to run over to her right away when she finds an empty spot against the back wall. I’m surprised she has any interest in what’s going on. The current debate over putting in a second street light in town isn't interesting to me, and I live here. I keep glancing her way, trying to get her attention, but she looks focused on the discussion.

  Twenty minutes pass before she looks in my direction. And that’s only because Bridger yells out a suggestion that finally puts an end to the street light debate.

  Our gazes lock. My eyes lower to the red on her lips and my dick throbs. Just imagining those plump lips wrapped around my cock has me growing hard.

  I hate to admit it, but Bridger is right. Amerin’s indifference to me is something I’ve never come across before. I can’t resist the pull I’m feeling towards her and decide to walk over.

  “This shouldn’t take much longer,” I say, leaning against the empty wall beside her. She looks at me, confused. I point to the crowd. "The meeting. They all came to hear some suit talk about the corporate monstrosity they want to build on the mountain, but as far as I can tell, the douchebag didn't even have the to guts to show up.”

  “Are you messing with me right now?” she asks.

  Now I’m confused.

  “Miss Cavanaugh,” Mayor Franklin calls out. “Would you please come up and say a few words?”

  “Yes.” She stares at me a moment longer before walking towards the front of the meeting. “Thank you, sir.”

  It all falls together. The fancy clothes. Her lunch meeting with that dumbshit Arlo. Even my own Momma’s words. She’s the corporate douchebag.

  I stare after her. How did I not see that she’s the representative from Chicago sent to try and sell the town on this resort? Admittedly, it’s possible I was too busy imagining all the ways I could get her into my bed and fuck the sass right out of her. Okay, it's one hundred percent possible; that was why I didn't see it. Bridger steps up next to me, and I don't have to look at him to know he's got a shit-eating grin on his face.

  “Dude, your girlfriend,”

  “Shut up.”

  Amerin gives her speech to the town, talking about the growth that this resort will bring in. Not only new jobs but revenue for the local businesses with all the new tourism. As she lists off all the bells and whistles that will be provided at the resort, I notice she’s careful not to mention the impact building the resort will have on the environment and wildlife. Or on the lodge where she’s currently staying. The company was smart to send her down. Not only is she a beautiful face, but she's personable and wins over nearly every person in the room.

  After the meeting ends, I stand there waiting for the mayor and Arlo Crenshaw to stop talking to Amerin. I swear if Arlo touches her lower back one more time, I will snap his arm off and beat him with it.

  Eventually, she says her goodbyes and starts walking up the steps.

  “How could you not tell me?” I take the steps two at a time to catch up with her.

  She stops on the landing and turns to me. “I thought you knew.”

  “How could I have known?”

  She shakes her head. “Everyone else seemed to put two and two together without me saying anything.”

  “I wouldn’t have thought you were a soul-sucking corporate lackey that cares nothing for the environment.”

  She recoils, and her eyes narrow on me.

  "Well, maybe if you stopped thinking with the head down here." She points at my crotch. “And more with the head up here.” She points at my forehead. “You wouldn’t have missed all the obvious clues.”

>   She's not wrong, and that infuriates me even more. I can't believe I was ever attracted to this woman.

  3

  AMERIN

  I wake to the sound of pounding above my head. At first, I can’t remember where I am. But once my brain wakes up a bit more, I wonder if the lodge is under attack. Then I hear the sound of muffled voices talking. There's someone on the roof. I look at the digital clock on the nightstand, and it's barely a quarter past seven. I crush my pillow over my head, but I still hear it all. Whoever is up there has no regard that it’s still early. I pull back my covers, stomp over to the window, and push it open.

  “Hello?” I yell up, hanging half out. “Do you mind? Some of us are still trying to sleep.”

  There’s no response, and the pounding continues. I storm out of my room and down the steps of the lodge towards the front door. I don’t care that I’m dressed only in a tank top and pair of sleep shorts with my fuzzy bunny slippers.

  I get outside, and not surprisingly, I see Beauden hammering away without a care in the world. Somehow, a part of me knew he had to be involved. One of his brothers is working next to him. He notices me first.

  “Hello!” I yell.

  “Good morning, ma’am,” Brodie yells down to me.

  His response stops me short and channels my frustration in a different but equal vein. Ma’am? Do I look like a ma’am? I’m barely older than he is.

  “Do you need to be hammering so loudly right now?” I ask, instead.

  He smacks Beauden in the arm, and both brothers stare down at me. I don’t miss the way Beauden’s eyes move down my body. I know when he reaches my slippers because an amused smile spreads across his face.

  I will not apologize for my fuzzy bunny slippers.

  “Do you mind?”