Backroads Read online

  Copyright © 2018 by Jane Ashley Converse

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book maybe 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.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Editor: One Love Editing

  Cover Design: Amy Queau

  Photographer: Jane Ashley Converse

  Formatter: Champagne Book Design

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  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

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Epilogue

  Letter to the readers

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  For all of you that believed enough in me to make me believe in myself.

  This has not been my month.

  I stood back watching as the dominoes fell, one right after the other, and everything I worked for spiraled down the drain.

  First my farce of a relationship ended. That was where it all started, the first domino to fall, leading to getting fired from my job, which then forced me to move out of my apartment.

  To add insult to injury, now I’m lost. Literally lost. On a gravel road in the middle of nowhere. With nothing but cornfields surrounding me.

  To make things even better, my car’s air-conditioning decided to die about a half hour ago. So much for being the expensive luxury sedan the salesman had sold me on a year ago. Here I sit, stranded on the side of the road, roasting away.

  When I look out my window, I can see several large black birds flying overhead circling.

  Great. Pretty sure those are vultures waiting to start picking at my lifeless body. Because at this point I may just end up dying out here.

  Dramatic? Maybe. But I’m hot, sticky, and getting pissed off.

  Scratch that. I am pissed off.

  I know I must be close to my destination—my aunt’s new place in the boondocks near the Missouri River—but instead Google Maps has delivered me to two gravel roads that meet in the middle of nowhere. Like, there isn’t a town anywhere near me. Fucking technology isn’t as smart as it’s supposed to be. It’s not like I have another map either. Who carries an actual road map in their car anymore? I sure don’t.

  This has officially turned into the road trip from hell.

  I throw my phone in the passenger seat in frustration, yelling and slamming my hands on the steering wheel. To add another complication, I also have to pee. I’ve been squirming in my seat trying to come up with ways to distract myself from the pain coming from my lower abdomen. Rocking back and forth only worked for a minute, and I’m seriously wondering if I’m going to find the strength to stand and not have an accident.

  “Oh, thank fuck!” I mutter to myself when I see a vehicle approaching.

  Maybe I can get their attention, I hope, as I lower my window. I’ve never been one to flag down a stranger and beg them for help, but I seem to be all about the possibilities of first times today.

  As I wave my hands out the window wildly to get their attention, it dawns on me, too late, what a mistake it is to have my window down when a vehicle passes me on a gravel road. The dust picked up by the vehicle passing soon fills the interior of my car. One breath has me choking.

  I grab the door handle, then stumble out to seek fresh air. Too bad there isn’t any outside either. It takes a few minutes for the dust to settle. Grit and sand fill my mouth. It takes spitting and coughing several times to finally be able to breathe in clear air. My eyes water, my blonde hair wildly undone and falling in my face. The bastards didn’t even stop to help.

  “Arghhhhhh!” I cry into the air. Taking deep breaths, I give the finger to the asshole who drove by and is barely a dot in the distance. This cannot be happening!

  Panic would probably start to settle in right about now, except standing has brought my attention to the alarming way my bladder is screaming to be released of pressure. Looking up and down the road for any other signs of life, it’s apparent I’m about to become a woman of the wilderness. If Aniston can do it in that one movie, so can I.

  There is something to be said for a woman wearing heels and a skirt relieving herself in a ditch. And that would be desperate.

  “Yes!” I moan out orgasmically. If anyone drove by at this moment, I don’t think I’d even care. Let them see.

  One crisis over. I’m determined to get to my destination.

  When I open my car door, I find my entire meticulously spot-free interior now covered with dust. Every nook and cranny of black leather is no longer black but tan.

  “Nooooo!” I wail to no one.

  It’s going to take forever to clean.

  Taking a few Kleenex from my center console, I clean my dusty face off, then throw the used tissue to the floor. What the hell—it’s already a mess.

  Several gravel miles later, I finally find my destination. No thanks to my high-tech phone—I side glare at my most prized possession—I managed to get here on my own. The sign for the Brickett Ranch was on a corner a mile back with an arrow pointing me the rest of the way.

  I shake my head. I can’t believe it was only a week ago I made the phone call to my aunt that had sent me on this shitty journey to the middle of nowhere. She runs a bed-and-breakfast, and several years ago, when it was just a dream of hers to open one, she had offered me to come help run it. The most humbling thing I ever had to do was make the phone call asking if she still wanted my help after I’d turned her down. I had run out of options.

  She’d squealed at the idea of me coming and helping. She couldn’t wait to spend time with me. The guilt had gnawed on me the entire drive.

  The long driveway is lined with tall pine trees shading the road on both sides, opening to a large homestead. Passing an enormous old stone barn with three doors, my excitement peaks when four horses gallop out in a pasture. I’ve always wanted to learn to ride. There are several tin sheds housing machinery and a few smaller buildings I’m not sure about. One looks to be a chicken coop. The barnyard opens wide like a welcome hug, pointing to a massive log cabin.

  Massive. As in a mansion-sized two-story log cabin.

  “Holy shit, this is her little bed-and-breakfast?” This is a hotel! It’s beautiful, sitting atop a sloping hill overlooking the Missouri River beyond.

  After I take in the vastness of the log cabin, I check my makeup in the mirror before getting out. One step and my heel twist in the
rocks that make up the driveway. Grabbing the side of the car for support, I take another step, trying not to break my ankle. I only need to make it to the front door.

  Almost going down again when a rock gives way beneath me, I stumble and fall toward the car again. “Shit!” I screech.

  “Looks like you could use some help.”

  Goose bumps run over my skin in reaction to the deep voice calling behind me. My whole body lights up in response.

  When I attempt to turn around, I lose my balance for a whole different reason.

  I swallow hard and my voice sticks in my throat as I stare openmouthed at the man offering to help me.

  Tall.

  Tall is the first word that comes to mind as his bright ocean-blue eyes find mine. They only hold me for a second as I take in his full, slightly wild beard and shoulder-length wavy brown hair. His wide, defined chest is barely covered by a stretched white tank top, so tight it could have been painted on. My hands twitch to touch the muscle beneath. It’s like Thor himself is standing in front of me.

  “So big,” I breathe out. Shit, did I say that out loud?

  I can’t help myself—my eyes drink him in. Paul Bunyan comes to mind, though he isn’t wearing a plaid shirt.

  Who wears a tank top like that? This tanned god does, and I am ready to worship him.

  Below the tank top—holy hell—are snug-fitting jeans hanging low on his cut waist, showing off the long, thick legs that match his arms. His jeans leave little to the imagination as my eyes are now glued to his crotch. There’s a definite bulge there.

  Shit... how long have I been ogling him? I need to close my mouth.

  Beneath the beard I can see him smirking. His piercing blue eyes are cocky. Oh, he’s enjoying this...

  “Please, by all means, get your fill,” he says, motioning to his chest.

  Snapping my mouth shut, I decide he’s not worth it.

  Well, maybe worth one more glance—and then he’s not worth it.

  Rolling my eyes at the smirk on his face, I try to make it clear I’m not interested.

  He may be hot as sin, but he is definitely a cocky, arrogant asshole.

  Figures.

  “Hey, what was that look all about?” he asks, standing up straighter.

  I almost lose my balance again trying to do the same, and I spin on my heel. “I don’t have time to explain things to a guy like youuuuuu...” My heel gets stuck again, efficiently breaking off. “Shit!”

  I fling forward, falling with my arms out.

  But I don’t fall.

  Strong hands wrap around my waist and hold me.

  In a breath, my feet are off the ground and I am in his arms. The same man I was trying to blow off.

  “That’s twice now, Princess.” His blue eyes barely glance at me as he carries me the distance to the door.

  My mind can barely register his comment. The only thing I can think about are the muscles under my fingertips.

  My fingers linger on his chest as he sets me down. He looks down to where my hand still rests, and he hesitantly takes a hold of it.

  The warmth that flows between our fingertips travels through my body. What was that?

  Clearing his throat, he takes a step back, letting my hand fall. “You think you can make it from here?” His voice is wary, as if he really isn’t sure I can.

  I feel dazed, unsure of what just happened. Before I can respond with anything, the door to the cabin is thrown open and bounding out is my five-foot-three aunt.

  “Holly!” she exclaims warmly, rushing toward me for a hug. “Oh dear, what happened to you? You’re looking a little rough... And what are you wearing? Are those heels? Lord, I don’t know how you and Alexis walk around with those type of shoes.” She continues to ramble questions without waiting for answers.

  With all her fussing and hugging, I can’t suppress my emotions. My own mother never greeted me this warmly my entire life. Here in my aunt’s embrace, all I feel is love radiating off her.

  “Hey, Linda,” I say, my lip trembling. “Thank you for having me.” I have to fight the tears threatening to fall. With everything that happened this last month, I didn’t realize I needed this. I need someone to hold me.

  Linda smiles at me, her own eyes pooling with unshed tears as she smooths my hair and tucks loose strands behind my ears. She hugs me with affection one more time and breaks away when she notices we aren’t alone.

  “Oh good, Chase, you’re here. I want to introduce my niece, Holly Thompson. Holly, this is Chase Hunting. He’s the guy who keeps this place looking as good as it does.”

  The man who minutes ago had me in his arms now has a name.

  Stepping forward, he sweeps his hair out of his eyes and offers his hand to me with a smirk. “Holly, it’s very nice to meet you.”

  So that was Holly. Linda has been talking nonstop for a week about her niece coming to stay for a while.

  Nothing could have prepared me for the blonde bombshell who stumbled out of her car.

  Why the hell would she show up to a place like this in heels? Not just heels, but a damn skirt too. I can’t get the skirt out of my head.

  Linda was right—she had looked rough. Covered in dust with her long blonde hair falling out of its ponytail, she looked like she’d had a tough time getting here.

  When she almost fell over the first time, my eyes appreciated the curve of her ass in her short skirt. But it was when she whipped around that I was stunned speechless.

  Her full, pouty lips hung slightly open like she was about to say something. She was shorter than me by almost a foot, even in the heels. Her dark brown eyes were what held me, what called to me. Even when she was taking in my features, those eyes held me.

  When I finally raked my gaze down her body, it was as if a pinup girl had stepped out of the pages of a magazine—curves in all the right places, her breasts pushing at the buttons on her shirt, giving me a peek at what was beneath.

  My heart was jackhammering in my chest, making it hard to breathe those first few moments. Time stood still, and the buzzing in my ears paralyzed me—till she almost went down again. Feeling her in my arms was like nothing I had ever felt before. I was afraid to look at her. She might have seen what I was thinking.

  I shouldn’t think about her this way, what with her being Linda’s niece and all. That aside, I’ve kept thoughts of women out of my mind for so long. Women are a distraction. One I don’t need right now.

  My head and my dick don’t seem to agree. Thinking about how she felt in my arms sends all my blood south.

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  We barely talked and yet something pulls me to her.

  I have to stop walking to adjust my cock in my pants. There has to be something wrong with me. This isn’t normally how I react to women, and no woman has ever had this effect on me.

  I could chalk it up to the fact I haven’t been with a woman... in a very long time. Not since before...

  I shake my head. I shouldn’t let Holly distract me. Her ass in that skirt was a nice surprise today, but I won’t be the guy who fucks her and leaves. And I already told Linda I won’t be here much longer. I’ll be moving on as soon as she hires someone to take my place.

  Of course, I said that over two months ago, and I do still intend on leaving soon. I would have been gone a long time ago if I didn’t feel like I owed so much to Linda. She’s given me more than most. For so long I was content being alone. Then Linda came along, the first person I let into my life in a long time. She gave me a home—also something I hadn’t had in so long.

  Thinking of my cabin paints an image of bringing Holly to my place.

  I need to get back to work. It’s the only way I’ll stop thinking about her.

  Maybe I need to think about leaving sooner rather than later.

  After leaving Chase and his stupid smile outside, Linda ushers me into the bed-and-breakfast. I’m speechless at the rustic beauty within. The high, vaulted ceilings reach to the secon
d story with exposed beams stretching across the great room. Upstairs there’s a balcony that overlooks the room, and I catch a glimpse of the guest room doors. What really holds my gaze is the far side of the house pointing toward the river. Large windows stretch from floor to ceiling, bringing in the natural light plus the beauty outside.

  In the opposite corner is a stone fireplace surrounded by plush, welcoming couches and a bearskin rug on the hearth. The great room opens further onto a dining room with a large wood table that looks as though it could seat twenty people comfortably. It had to have been built inside; there’s no way you could get it in or out any other way.

  After she gives me a quick tour of the rooms upstairs, we head back down to the kitchen. I eye the two stacked ovens next to the large stovetop with eight burners. A large butcher-block island takes up most of the center space, with pots and pans hanging above it. Every other surface is covered with dark gray granite countertops. I can barely cook and I want to live in this kitchen.

  “How long have you been booking guests?” I ask my aunt when she hands me a cup of coffee. My guilty conscience hates that I don’t know the answers to all my questions. I’ve been so caught up in my life and career, and I missed so much. She answers all my questions with a smile though, and beams at my adoration over what she’s accomplished.

  Two years ago she asked if I wanted to come and help her get the B&B up and running. My mother has been no use, and my cousin travels with her band most of the year. I turned her down, not wanting to leave the city and the numerous possibilities I thought I had there.

  “I think I started having guests trickle in over a year ago, but they really didn’t start booking out in advance till a few months ago. I think the word finally got out about us. You know, Alexis was the one who told me to stop following her and her dreams and start living my own.” She grinned at the memory as she sipped her coffee. “She, of course, helped me accomplish my dream. But do you think the damn girl takes any time off to come see me? I miss being with her all the time. I guess I had to let her go at some point.”

  My cousin, Alexis, is a singer-songwriter. Not just any singer—Alexis Hale sells out at every venue and has multiple platinum records and so many number ones I’d have to look it up to tell you the exact number.