Kiss Me, Trouble: Wescott Springs, #4

By Holly Cortelyou

"...a fun, sweet and heartwarming story that will leave you with a smile."

"A sweet romance, twists of fate and charming characters gave me a delightful read."

Why gamble on a second chance at love?

Six years ago, Cole McCaffrey shattered Alix Porter's heart into a million scattered shards. But one lucky encounter with flying artwork lands Alix right back into Cole's lap. With seven short vacation days, can Cole spark their sizzling chemistry and convince Alix of his love, despite the lie that tore them apart? Welcome back to Wescott Springs where it's always a sweet and sexy romp to love!

Can she risk a second chance at love?

Cole McCaffrey has it all. A lucrative graphics arts business, a thriving art gallery in a quaint Colorado mountain town…and a hollowness in his heart. When a lucky calamity slams him right back into Alix Porter's world, Cole can't escape the old flames of their passion. But with the days ticking down, Cole's back's against a wall to fess up to the deception that ripped them apart. Will the truth heal their wounds or separate them forever?

With her career in high gear and a coveted promotion on tap, Alix Porter's life is golden. But a quick break in the tourist town of Wescott Springs is about to bring her smack dab in front of her old, broken dreams and Cole McCaffrey. A tasty bakery, an unexpected adventure, and a pair of dark brown eyes have Alix questioning her so-called perfect life. Can Alix open her heart to love once again?

If you swoon for sweet and sexy romps to love, claim your next book boyfriend today…

• Language: English
• Publisher: Holly Cortelyou
• Release date: May 22, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386465829

Book preview

1

Alix porter shouldn’t have needed a vacation. Her life was picture perfect, wasn’t it? But, here she was in a hotel lobby, halfway across the country, flying solo and all by her lonesome.

A slow screech of metal on tile pierced her ears as Alix tucked a tip into the bellhop’s hand. With a startled glance across the sprawling lobby of the Wescott Springs Resort, she spotted a pair of men in gray coveralls fiddling with their ladders next to a towering, stacked stone fireplace. There was a narrow, but oversized packing crate with a third man, in denim and plaid, kneeling at its base and prying it open. An art installation, she supposed.

High above the mantel, the current painting depicted snowcapped mountainscape with a winter wonderland of an adorable western town. She assumed it must be the quaint burg of Wescott Springs that she’d passed in the taxi on the ride in from the airport. Yep, there was the white gazebo in the town’s park and an assortment of pedestrians bundled up against the frosty air as they window-shopped along the wide sidewalks and charming shop fronts all strewn with twinkle lights.

Alix couldn’t help but smile. It was a tried and true, touristy theme, but the artist had captured a spark of excitement and the joy of the moment without being too sentimental. In fact, it glowed with light.

The bellhop cleared his throat and waved as he trundled off. With her bags on their merry way up to her room, Alix tucked her wallet into her purse and smoothed out a crease in the skirt of her sleeveless, white sheath dress. She suppressed a groan. What was she going to do with seven days of enforced relaxation here in the mountains of Colorado?

The trip had been Fiona’s idea of a girls’ retreat. A stolen week after a Denver conference, but now Fiona had rushed home to be with her father who’d suffered a heart attack. At least Fiona’s father was luckily recovering from bypass surgery, but his misfortune had left her unsettled.

She fidgeted with her room’s keycard and tapped her foot with pent-up energy. She glared at a smudge of dirt on the white leather upper of her open-toed heels and the teeny chip in her toenail polish. She made a mental note to book a pedicure. Perhaps a massage, or maybe a cocktail. She shrugged. It was after four, and surely a glass of wine was a prime perk of being away from the office. Besides, she’d be able to check her messages and make sure that everything back at work was on track.

With a click-clack of her heels on the stone tiles, Alix sauntered toward the hotel bar through the cozy groupings of overstuffed chairs and leather love seats. She loved the vibe. It was like a swanky European mountain resort with clean, modern lines, but it was warmed up with rugged, cowboy branding irons as wall art and antler sconces and chandeliers. It had a friendly glow that put her at her ease, and by halfway across the lobby, her pace had slowed to an amble.

As she neared the fireplace, the two men in coveralls tugged the picture off the stone facing and eased down the ladders in a synchronized descent. The replacement painting was unwrapped and curiously seemed to be standing on its own. The third man had disappeared from sight, but she guessed that he was on the other side of it, holding up the monster of a picture.

Alix studied the artwork with its explosion of peaches and oranges of a glorious sunset over the pearly white-tipped summer Rocky Mountains. It was luminous and almost impressionistic. It was a perfect match to the elegant, but rustic feel of the resort. With a quick scan around the lofty lobby with its hand-hewn beams, Alix spotted a whole series of landscapes that matched the one getting installed over the massive fireplace.

She walked toward the fireplace with her gaze fixated on the canvas. The brush strokes were bold but refined. It was familiar, but she couldn’t place it. The workers simultaneously took another step down their respective ladders. One guy grunted as he waved his free arm to maintain his balance. There was a sharp intake of breath behind the yet-to-be-installed painting, and a muttered, Careful.

We got it, don’t worry, said the man on the right ladder.

It’s heavier than it looks. The second man had no sooner complained when he let out a huge sneeze. His foot slipped off a rung. He swayed with one arm flailing, and then the painting fell from his grasp.

The man on the right cursed as he lunged to seize the painting. It bumped off his elbow and lurched toward the top of a three-tiered antler chandelier. The lights flickered, and it whooshed away at the impact. The painting snagged by a corner on one creamy antler tine and dangled like a drop of water from an icicle.

Alix ducked with a squeal as the flying canvas swooped past her head with only inches to spare. In a blur of motion, the man in denim and plaid flashed past her, shot up the left ladder, and steadied the falling worker.

As the aerial artwork danced by again, Alix skittered backward, lost her footing and tumbled into a chair, derriere first. With a tearing noise, the painting drooped lower and broke free of the entangling antler. Almost in slow motion, the man who rescued the sneezing ladder guy jumped down the last four steps, and the free-falling painting slid right into his hands.

The man peered around the picture. Are you all right?

He was tall and dark-haired, and his chiseled profile and close-shaved beard were perfection. A niggle of familiarity teased at her.

The concierge bustled over to her. Ma’am! Are you hurt?

I’m fine. I landed butt first into the seat of this chair. The lobby was unnaturally quiet, and a flock of guests had gathered around.

Are you sure? It was the bearded rescue guy, and his voice sent off all her warning bells. Alix? His voice registered shock. Holy crap, you almost got brained. He paused. What are you doing here?

All she wanted to do was close her eyes and sink into oblivion. It was Cole McCaffrey. Of course it was. No one else painted like that. And no one else had ever broken her heart like that.

With a quick look at the two men peering over her, Alix waved them off. Seriously, I’m fine. She stood, and out of ingrained habit, she extended her hand to Cole. How nice to see you again. Her voice was cool, controlled. At least she hoped it was.

Cole’s concern turned into a genuine smile. Are you sure? My soaring artwork almost grounded you.

No harm, no foul. As they shook hands, she trembled. Dammit. His broad shoulders and muscled forearms launched a stampeding herd of butterflies in her belly. His touch was warm and enveloping, almost reassuring. Her pulse skipped a beat, and she dropped her attention to her toes. Fabulous. There was that chip in her cherry nail polish. What was wrong with her? She hadn’t seen him in six years, but still, she was a pathetic wreck. Wonderful. She steeled her nerves and put on her best coolheaded negotiator smile. I’m not sure the paintings fared as well.

As if on a practiced cue, they turned to check out the rip in the one painting and then glanced to the other oversized canvas sprawling against the back of a sofa.

Glad to see it in one piece. Cole chuckled and turned to the two ladder men now securely rooted to the ground. Dan? Ethan? You two A-OK?

Dandy.

I can’t believe I sneezed.

Why don’t you two take a break, and we’ll start this over again in ten minutes? Cole slapped the two men on their backs and sent them on their way. Alix spotted her purse and room key on the floor and swiftly bent to retrieve them.

The concierge retreated with mutterings about safety reports, and the crowd disbursed with no new excitement on offer. Alix willed her legs to walk away, but her body refused to obey. Cole examined the gaping tear, but he appeared unfazed by all the commotion.

Is this your work? Alix pointed at the damaged landscape. It’s beautiful. I hate to see it destroyed.

I painted it last year,