After We Fall (Dare With Me Series Book 6)

  AFTER WE FALL

  A DARE WITH ME SERIES NOVEL

  J.H. CROIX

  CONTENTS

  1. Harley

  2. Grant

  3. Grant

  4. Harley

  5. Harley

  6. Grant

  7. Grant

  8. Harley

  9. Harley

  10. Grant

  11. Grant

  12. Harley

  13. Grant

  14. Harley

  15. Grant

  16. Harley

  17. Harley

  18. Grant

  19. Harley

  20. Grant

  21. Harley

  22. Harley

  23. Harley

  24. Grant

  25. Harley

  26. Harley

  27. Harley

  28. Grant

  29. Grant

  30. Harley

  31. Harley

  32. Harley

  33. Grant

  34. Harley

  35. Grant

  36. Harley

  Epilogue

  Find My Books

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  This 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 J.H. Croix

  All rights reserved.

  Cover design by Najla Qamber Designs

  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.

  Created with Vellum

  To my sweetest girl.

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  Chapter One

  HARLEY

  “Grant is totally hot,” my friend Jodi said.

  I almost spit out my coffee, sputtering, “What?”

  “Oh, come on. Don't tell me you haven't noticed,” she said, her tone sly.

  Jodi was a childhood friend. She'd come up to Alaska for a visit and spent a week with us recently, and we were catching up on a call.

  “Grant was hardly around when you were here. He's not around much in general,” I added. That part was true. I hoped she didn't notice that I was dodging her comment.

  “It's not like you have to see someone a lot to notice they're hot. Plus, you're avoiding my point. Don't you think he’s hot?”

  I let out a sigh. “Sure. Objectively speaking.” I was relieved we were on the phone because my face was on fire.

  “He’s got that whole smoky gaze. Can you call a man a smoke show?” she teased.

  I laughed. “I don't know.”

  Grant did, in fact, have smoky eyes. They were an unusual glacial blue with a charcoal rim. As Jodi had pointed out, he was totally hot. That man was in some serious shape and didn't even work out.

  I happened to be standing in my bedroom, where a full-length mirror was mounted on the door. Glancing at my own reflection, I bit back a sigh. I could've called myself curvy if I was feeling generous about it.

  I enjoyed food. There was a lot of good food here where I lived.

  Oblivious to my train of thought, Jodi added, “I think you two would be good for each other.”

  “What?!” I sputtered. “Grant can hardly stand me. Trust me, I don't think we'd be good for each other.”

  “It's like in elementary school. The kid who’s the most annoying and picks on you totally likes you.”

  “Can we drop this topic, please?”

  “I’m sure it’s hard to ignore him since you have to live with him,” she teased.

  I gritted my teeth and ground out, “As if I didn’t know.”

  She chuckled. “I'll drop it, but you getting all defensive only proves my point.”

  “Whatever.”

  “I'm really glad I got to come up there and see you. Thank you for inviting me,” she said sincerely.

  “Of course. I figure everybody should come to Alaska once. It was on my bucket list before Diego moved up here. Speaking of roommates, you could reconsider and move up here. I'm sure you can find a job.”

  “I appreciate the thought, but I don't think I could deal with winter there. I'm a born and bred Texas girl, and I like it hot.”

  I laughed. “Understood. The winters are cold. I'd be lying if I said anything otherwise.”

  “Thanks for being honest,” she deadpanned.

  We chatted a bit more, updating each other on the details of our lives. Just before we were about to end the call, Jodi teased, “Grant likes you!” in a singsong voice.

  With a groan, I tapped the button to end the call. I'd already said goodbye. I didn't need to take her bait and argue the point again. Tossing my phone on the bed, I grabbed my laptop off the dresser and made myself comfortable propped against the pillows. My job was mostly online. I worked as a freelance graphic designer and also did medical transcription. I loved graphic design. Aside from my steady flow of online work, I also handled all of the marketing graphics for the outdoor resort where I lived. Sometimes I worked downstairs because I often had the house to myself.

  My cheeks got hot again even though I was alone in my bedroom. Grant was hot and kind of cute. He was also a really nice guy. I didn't fall for nice guys. Relationships weren’t my thing. No way would I risk ruining this sweet setup by letting anything happen with Grant. I had free room and board, awesome meals, and I lived near my brother.

  I lived and worked at Walker Adventures, an outdoor resort in Alaska. It was just outside Diamond Creek, one of the coastal jewels of Southcentral Alaska. Diamond Creek was a beautiful little town nestled in the foothills of the mountains with the glittering waters of Kachemak Bay beside it.

  My brother, Diego, was a pilot and flew for Walker Adventures. One of his best friends, Flynn Walker, owned the place. They'd been in the Air Force together. When I came up to visit, I ended up staying. My brother used to live in the staff house at the resort, but he'd fallen in love and moved out to live with his girlfriend. That left me here with Grant and Cat, who were Flynn’s younger siblings.

  Grant was busy, and he was gone a lot, which was a massive relief because I'd been crushing on him—hard—ever since I'd moved up here. I kept telling myself I would get over it. Unfortunately, my body was ignoring every memo I sent. I tried to be stern with myself. I even had a few mental knock-down, drag-out fights with my hormones. They were pretty powerful and had left my willpower feeling defeated.

  I sighed aloud in the bedroom and tapped on my computer screen. I had some work to do on the website for Walker Adventures, so I might as well focus on that right now. We had plenty of business, but I wanted to up their website game. I'd started creating profiles for all the pilots. Of course, my naughty little index finger clicked on the tab that took me to Grant's profile.

  Sweet hell. My pulse took off like a thoroughbred in a race.

  There he was. Rugged and handsome with sharp, chiseled features. He looked a lot like his brother, Flynn. I clicked over to Flynn. Nothing, nothing. My pulse was all ho-hum.

  I switched back to Grant
. He had dark-blond hair and glacial-blue eyes with a charcoal rim, angled cheekbones, a straight blade of a nose, a square jaw, and full lips. I clicked back to Flynn. Still zero physical reaction. Flynn was happily married and deeply in love with Daphne. I didn’t want to want Flynn. I really didn't, but if I could feel any spurt of anything with my hormones, then I wouldn't feel so crazy about Grant.

  Jodi was right. Grant was hot. But she was wrong about him liking me. Although he was a nice guy, he treated me pretty much the way he treated his younger sister, Cat. I sighed again. I clicked out of Grant’s profile, abandoning that project to work on something else.

  Hours later, I was asleep in my bed, minding my own business. I didn't know what woke me up, but I came awake abruptly. My laptop had slid off my lap onto the mattress. I heard a sound, and then I could have sworn I heard Grant's voice. What the hell?

  I’d fallen asleep in a pair of sweatpants and an old T-shirt. Rolling out of bed, I walked into the hallway. Grant’s bedroom door was open, the lights were out, and there was no sign of him. I hurried down the stairs, worry percolating in my thoughts. I dashed out onto the porch when I heard more noise. The motion-activated porch light was already on. A giant bull moose was pawing the ground and snorting, all bossy-like.

  “Grant?” I called.

  “Yeah?” he returned, frustration evident in his tone.

  “Are you okay?”

  “For now. We need to chase this guy off.”

  I studied the moose, who was completely ignoring me. Glancing around, I saw the snow shovel propped in the corner of the porch. It wasn’t winter, but the shovel had been waiting for its moment. I snagged it and banged it against the railing. The sound reverberated loudly. The moose stopped pawing the ground and turned to face me. Its antlers were illuminated by the porch light. A stab of fear galvanized me, and I banged the shovel again.

  The moose took a step back, eyeing me warily. I jogged to the base of the stairs and picked up a rock. I threw it at him, hitting him in the rump. The moose snorted, turning once more to look at me. Another moment later, he seemed to decide it wasn't worth the trouble and loped off into the darkness.

  “He's gone!” I called.

  “I'm going to give it a minute to be safe,” Grant answered.

  He waited until the sound of the moose’s hooves striking the ground faded. Meanwhile, I stood on the porch.

  Grant approached in the darkness. Because my eyes were freaking annoying, I scanned him once he was within the circle of light cast by the porch. His gait had a slight hitch. Before I knew it, I was actually running off the steps.

  “Grant! Are you okay?”

  He stopped in front of me, and I looked up. He had a nasty scrape on his cheek and his shirt was torn. I could see blood staining the ragged fabric over his shoulder. “What happened?”

  “The moose kicked me,” he said with a shrug like it wasn’t even a thing.

  He stepped around me, walking up the steps and through the open door. I hurried after him.

  “Grant!” I exclaimed as I slammed the door behind us.

  He walked into the kitchen, grabbing a glass out of the cabinet and turning on the faucet to fill it with water. Seconds later, he gulped it down before he turned and looked at me. “I'm fine.”

  “You're bleeding!” I yelped.

  “My face isn't too bad,” he offered, lightly touching the scraped area.

  “It's not your face. Obviously, your face got scraped.”

  “Yeah, that’s when I fell,” he interjected.

  “It's your shoulder.” I pointed at his bloody shoulder.

  He glanced down, his eyes widening slightly. “Oh, shit. I didn't even notice that.”

  “Adrenaline will do that,” I pointed out.

  I crossed over to him. Manhandling him a little, I shoved him down in a kitchen chair.

  “Let me get a look at that. You might need stitches.”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake. I do not need stitches, Harley,” he muttered.

  I started to pull apart the fabric but realized it was dirty. “Take your shirt off,” I ordered.

  Of all the things I never expected to say to Grant Walker.

  He obliged, and I tried not to notice his muscled, bronzed chest with a smattering of amber hair. His shoulder was already swelling, and the cut was deep. “Is this where he kicked you?”

  “I don't know. He charged me. It all happened really fast. I fell. I know I scraped my face on a rock or something. I probably cut my shoulder on something too.”

  “We need to clean this up. I think we should take you to the hospital.”

  “No. It's just a cut. The first-aid stuff is right in that cabinet.” He nudged his chin toward the corner cabinet.

  I hurried over, fetching a plastic bin containing bandages, antiseptics, and so on. Because this was Walker Adventures, the entire family and everyone working here were badass and outdoorsy. They risked their lives on the regular flying in the Alaskan skies. This was a seriously well-stocked first-aid kit.

  “Let me clean it first. I’ll use warm water and soap and then disinfect it.”

  A few moments later, I was eyeing the cut. It was clean, but it still looked terribly painful.

  Grant glanced toward his shoulder. “Just put some butterfly bandages on it and then cover it with a larger bandage.”

  “You know, you don't have to be all tough. Some stitches wouldn't be a bad idea.”

  “I don't need stitches, Harley,” he insisted.

  I rolled my eyes. My heart was still racing from discovering he was injured, and I was anxious and worried. The scrape on his cheek was starting to swell. “It’s going to look like somebody punched you in the face,” I commented.

  “I'll just tell them you did it,” he returned with a wink and a quick grin. The very grin that sent my belly into somersaults on the regular and did so right now.

  Despite his injured state, my hormones were disobedient.

  Chapter Two

  GRANT

  Harley was a handful, and I wanted to kiss her. I'd wanted to kiss her for too damn long. But she was off-limits. Unfortunately, she was also my roommate. Fuck my life.

  “Grant,” she began. She actually wagged her finger at me. “I really think we should go to the hospital.”

  “I really think you should get the butterfly bandages out, pour peroxide or alcohol over it, and put the bandages on.”

  I wasn't thinking when I reached out and placed my hands on her hips to turn her around. “There's antibiotic ointment in the smaller container in the cabinet.”

  Fuck me. Her hips were soft, my fingers pressing into the lush give of her curves. Thank fuck I was sitting down because I was sporting a serious hard-on at this point. All over Harley, my friend's little sister. I had two younger sisters myself. I knew the rules. You were not supposed to fall for anybody’s sister. Definitely not a younger sister.

  Harley stepped away, marching back to that cabinet, her hips swinging with every step. She fetched the smaller container in question and returned, opening it. “Oh, I see. All right. I should use alcohol just because you won't take my advice,” she muttered.

  “Go for it.”

  She looked my way again and then shook her head. “No, that would be mean.” She lifted the bottle of peroxide and dampened a cotton ball with it before gently dabbing it across the cut. I felt the bubble of the peroxide and a subtle sting, but it wasn’t too bad.

  She worked quietly, cleaning it thoroughly and dabbing antibiotic ointment on it before following my instructions to bandage it.

  “That gash is three inches long. It’s definitely going to leave a scar,” she announced.

  I glanced up at her. She'd been standing close to me, touching me this whole time, yet I'd been focused on what she was doing. It helped that the cut hurt. My shoulder was beginning to throb. But now, my awareness shifted abruptly, like the flick of a switch, to Harley—her glossy, almost black hair, her big green eyes, her sensual lips,
and the way her nose tipped up at the end.

  Her tongue darted out, swiping across her bottom lip. “How do you feel?” she asked.

  My fingers itched to touch her. There was almost a vibration of sensation, the need was so intense.

  Her eyes darkened, and I could see the rapid flutter of her pulse at the base of her throat. My heartbeat was drumming madly in my chest.

  “Fine.” My voice came out husky. I cleared my throat.

  She smoothed her hand over the bandage again, checking to ensure the edges were pressed down.

  “You should take some ibuprofen before you go to bed. It's going to be sore.”

  “It already is,” I answered honestly.

  Her eyes swung to mine again, blinking. In another second, she spun away, hurrying over to the cabinet by the sink where we kept a bottle of ibuprofen. “How many?” she asked.

  “Two,” I called in response.

  She shook the bottle, dropping two pills in the center of her palm, and returned to me. Her fingertips brushed mine as she handed them over with another glass of water. I swallowed them quickly. Everything seemed loud. The sound of my throat moving was audible in the quiet kitchen. The clock went tick, tock, tick, tock where it was mounted on the wall above the stove. I didn't even realize I'd lost my internal battle of wills in trying to keep my hands to myself. Because I suddenly realized my palm was resting on her hip, just where it began to flare out below her waist.