Dare To Fall

  Fireweed Harbor Series

  J.H. Croix

  Contents

  1. Fiona

  2. Blake

  3. Fiona

  4. Blake

  5. Fiona

  6. Fiona

  7. Blake

  8. Fiona

  9. Blake

  10. Blake

  11. Fiona

  12. Fiona

  13. Fiona

  14. Blake

  15. Blake

  16. Fiona

  17. Blake

  18. Fiona

  19. Blake

  20. Fiona

  21. Fiona

  22. Fiona

  23. Fiona

  24. Blake

  25. Fiona

  26. Fiona

  27. Fiona

  28. Blake

  29. Blake

  30. Blake

  31. Fiona

  32. Fiona

  33. Blake

  34. Fiona

  35. Blake

  36. Fiona

  37. Blake

  38. Fiona

  39. Fiona

  40. Blake

  41. Blake

  42. Fiona

  43. Blake

  44. Fiona

  45. Fiona

  46. Blake

  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.

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  Copyright © 2023 J.H. Croix

  All rights reserved.

  Cover design by Najla Qamber Designs

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  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 new beginnings and family in all shapes and sizes.

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  Chapter One

  Fiona

  I tapped the button inside the elevator, and the doors began to close. Just then, I heard footsteps moving swiftly in the direction of the elevator. A hand shot out, catching the door, and a second later, a man appeared. My system felt jolted for one fiery second.

  His eyes met mine as he smiled. “Made it.” He stepped into the elevator, and the small space suddenly felt even more cramped. This man’s presence and size filled it.

  “Floor three?” he prompted when he glanced at the panel.

  I cleared my throat with a nod.

  “Well then, we’re going to the same place.”

  He tapped the button, and the elevator began to move before it abruptly stopped with an unsettling shake.

  “Hm,” the man said. “That didn’t feel right.”

  “Did we stop on the wrong floor?” I asked needlessly because we’d barely moved.

  “Something like that.” He tapped the button again.

  I looked around the small space, curling my arms around my waist and willing myself to stay calm. The man beside me pulled out a phone and tapped on the screen. A second later, he swore. Lowering the phone, he eyed his screen. “No reception.” His gaze flicked to me.

  Even though I could feel my heart racing and a sense of panic churning inside, I couldn’t help but notice he had stunning eyes. They were a silvery shade of gray with thick dark golden lashes to match his hair, which was the color of burnished brass with glints of gold that shimmered even in the dim light of this elevator.

  “We won’t be here long,” he assured me, his confidence belying the anxiety I felt.

  “If you say so.”

  “I’m Blake,” he offered after another moment. “There are only four stories, so we don’t need to worry.” His tone was light, and meanwhile, the space was feeling smaller and smaller.

  When he arched a brow after several beats, I kicked my brain into gear. “Oh, I’m Fiona. Fiona Blake, actually.”

  He chuckled. “We share a name.”

  I smiled, thinking this man was way too handsome. Here we were, trapped in a tiny elevator, and my hormones were doing gymnastics at the sound of his rumbly laughter.

  “It can’t be too long,” Blake offered another few minutes later.

  He tapped the emergency button on the panel, only to get a crackling sound in reply. Suddenly, the elevator jerked, and I lost my balance, stumbling against him.

  His arm curled around my shoulders as he steadied me. “That’s a good sign.”

  “It is?”

  “Sure. It means they’re trying to work on it.”

  The elevator jolted again. Blake’s arm hadn’t left my shoulders, and it felt nice. He was warm and solid. Just when I started to feel hopeful, the elevator plunged. I cried out when it stopped with a shuddering thump.

  “I think we just fell all the way down.” My voice was a little shaky when I peered up at Blake.

  He met my gaze, nodding. “I think so. That’s either good or bad.”

  “Good?!” I squeaked.

  “Good, because we can’t fall any farther.”

  He slipped his phone out of his pocket again to peer at the screen. “Still no reception. What about your phone?”

  I still had my purse looped over my shoulder, so I fished my phone out of it to glance at the screen. There wasn’t a single bar of reception. “Nothing.”

  “Damn,” he said slowly. “I guess we’re here for a bit.”

  I took a breath, willing my heartbeat to slow. He leaned his hips against the wall, curling one hand on the railing. “Well then, tell me about yourself.”

  My eyes widened as I looked over at him. “Now?”

  His lips kicked up at one corner, and my belly did a little shimmy. “We’re stuck.”

  The elevator jerked again, really hard, and then lifted slightly. Once again, I stumbled into Blake, my purse falling off my shoulder and hitting the floor with a soft thump. My hand landed on his chest. I could feel the heat of him through his Henley shirt. I could also feel the muscled planes of his chest under my palm and the steady beat of his heart.

  When I looked up at him, my heart drummed a little faster. We stared at each other.

  “I want to call you Fi,” he said, his slow and raspy voice sending heat pooling low in my belly.

  “You can call me Fi,” I whispered, a distant corner of my mind almost aghast that I hadn’t leaped away from this man.

  Maybe he wasn’t a complete stranger, but all I knew was his name and that we were both trapped in a small elevator in an office building in Juneau, Alaska. I was here for an initial screening with a human resources department for a company for a new job in a smaller town nearby.

  The elevator jerked hard and then abruptly started rising. I leaped back in a hurry, trying to catch my balance and failing when the elevator shuddered again.

  Blake’s hand landed on my hip as he steadied me. “I think we’re moving up.”

  There was one more shudder before the elevator started moving smoothly, stopping when the lights indicated we were once again on the first floor. The doors opened just as I stepped away from Blake again.

  “Not sure what went wrong, but we seem to have it working again,” a man standing outside said. “For now, we’re going to ask that you take the stairs.”

  I bent down to lift my purse, trying to gather my composure. Between being trapped in the elevator, my hormones coming out of a long hibernation, and telling a man he could call me Fi, I felt seriously flustered.

  I straightened to find Blake’s intent gaze on me. “Are you okay?” he asked, his tone low.

  The man waiting outside the elevator was saying something to a woman who appeared.

  “I’m fine,” I said, mostly unsettled by the fact that I actually wanted to kiss this man in the elevator.

  “Nice to meet you, Fi,” he said, the heat banked in his eyes sending sparks leaping through me.

  “You too, Blake.”

  He dipped his chin. “Take care then.” He walked by, saying something to the woman standing outside the elevator. He appeared to know her. With a quick wave, he crossed over to a door and disappeared through it.

  I glanced around until the man waiting said, “Stairs are right over there.”

  I followed where he pointed and hurried up the stairs. A few minutes later, I twisted my hands together, waiting to meet with the woman doing my initial screening for a job interview. I needed this job. It was my ticket to a fresh start.

  Chapter Two

  Blake

  A few weeks later

  * * *

  I looked over at Fiona Blake, trying to contain my body’s reaction to her. She was sexy as fuck. With her brown hair with golden glints pulled back in a tight bun, almost severe. With her wide blue eyes and thick lashes. With her glasses she kept pushing up on her nose. She had sharp features—stark
ly angled cheekbones, a straight, narrow nose, and elegantly arched brows—all set off with the most kissable mouth I had ever laid eyes on.

  I could still recall the feeling of her against me in that elevator. The soft give of her breasts against my chest when she stumbled and fell into me, the sweet curve of her hip, and the way my palm itched to slide over her bottom.

  I never thought I’d lay eyes on this woman again, figuring it was just one of those brief encounters when you saw someone and wondered if it could be something other than two strangers crossing paths once. Here she was, interviewing for the chef position at my family’s flagship winery, brewery, and restaurant. It was unsettling. I wouldn’t technically be her boss, but my family owned the place.

  I felt boxed in. David, the chef who’d worked for our family for over two decades, liked her. He was stepping down from being the main chef into a solely administrative role for the restaurant. He wanted us to hire Fiona, and I had no rational reason to refuse.

  Chapter Three

  Fiona

  “Faster,” David ordered.

  I whipped through a series of tasks and plated the next dish, sliding it swiftly onto the shelf for the server to pick up.

  “Faster,” David ordered again as I moved at lightning speed to get the next order ready.

  I was the new chef at Fireweed Winery in Fireweed Harbor, Alaska. David had been the only chef here before me. He was taciturn and direct. All in all, I supposed that was better than him being a straight-up asshole.

  His most common order was “faster,” followed by a clipped sigh. I was constantly biting my tongue and resisting the urge to be sly in return.

  I didn’t think that would go over too well with David. If he had a sense of humor, it only peeked out on occasion. None of his comments held even the slightest hint of sexual innuendo. That was a breath of fresh air.

  The pace here was busy, really busy, but I loved it. It was precisely what I wanted. When I came to work, I put on my apron and dove into the day. The time flew until I finished. I still marveled that I was even here and had somehow scored this job even though I was pretty sure Blake Cannon, one of the owners who managed the winery and brewery, hadn’t wanted to hire me. Every time I saw him, I couldn’t forget the spark I’d felt between us in that brief encounter in the elevator in Juneau. I told myself it was pure coincidence that I’d ended up working in the place his family owned. There were times the world felt startlingly small. David liked me, sort of. Warm and fuzzy wasn’t the description I would give David.

  David was all business and very loyal to the Cannon family. Although I had only lived in Fireweed Harbor for a full two months now, I had quickly deduced the Cannon family was the equivalent of royalty in this town, complete with a messy past, some tragedy, and even some crime. David had explicitly ordered me not to get caught up in gossiping about the family. He said they had been through more than their share of pain and didn’t need their employees falling into the “viper pit of gossip.” His exact words.

  I wasn’t much of a gossip and had been burned by it more than enough in my own life. Not to say some of it wasn’t deserved. My youthful indiscretions had been doozies. My hopes to find a fresh start far from those very indiscretions had led me here to this tiny town in Southeast Alaska.

  By the time the dinner rush had quieted, it was almost ten o’clock. David looked over and gave me a firm nod. “Very good.” At that, he turned and walked out of the kitchen toward the back.

  Phil, one of the line cooks, cast me a grin. “Highest compliment.”

  I shrugged. “I’ll take it.” I checked the area where a row of tickets was usually lined up in front of the chef’s station, realizing only one was left.

  “You got that one?” I asked Phil and Tommy.

  They nodded in unison. “We’ve got it. The magic hour has come, and you are done for the night,” Tommy said.

  “Thanks, guys,” I called as I began tidying up.

  “Hey,” a voice said.

  I glanced over to see McKenna Cannon walking into the back of the kitchen. I smiled over at her.

  “Aren’t you here a little late?” she asked when she stopped beside me.

  I glanced at the clock. Shrugging, I looked back at her. “Not really. I stay until the rush is over.”

  She cast me a dimpled smile. “You’re doing great. The reviews are raving.”

  “Reviews?” I yelped.

  “I mean that in a metaphorical sense. Don’t worry. Fireweed Harbor doesn’t have official restaurant reviews.”

  I let out a breath. “Thank goodness. I’m not up for that.”

  She laughed softly, tapping her fingertips lightly on the stainless-steel counter across from me as she walked by. I finished tidying up and checked my prep for the following day before heading into the back where there was a break area. A row of lockers allowed the staff to tuck their jackets, purses, and the like as we came and went. David was long gone.

  I shrugged out of my chef’s jacket and tossed it in the laundry basket before walking into the staff bathroom. After washing my hands, I splashed water on my cheeks. I threw my hairnet in the trash, looked at myself in the mirror, and dabbed a paper towel on my cheeks.

  My blue eyes stood out against my olive-toned skin. I’d inherited my skin from my Italian mother and my eyes from my Irish father. I smiled at the thought of them. Different though they were, they were remarkably similar in personality, both passionate and boisterous. My father had passed away from cancer a few years after his diagnosis, and the ache of missing him was still sharp sometimes. My mother took care of him until the end.

  I gave my head a little shake and finished drying my hands. When I walked out of the bathroom, Blake Cannon stood near the lockers, looking at something on his phone. That feeling I got whenever he was nearby shimmered to life inside. My hormones sure did like Blake. It was a pesky annoyance. Butterflies tickled my belly, and my pulse raced. Inconveniently, to get to my purse and jacket, I had to walk close to him.

  When I cleared my throat audibly, he glanced up, his piercing gaze catching me instantly. Blake had dark blond hair and silvery-gray eyes. Of course, those eyes were nearly impossible to look away from whenever he looked at me. I felt as if I were caught in a tractor beam. I blinked, willing the heat rising in my cheeks to dissipate.

  My shoes squeaked on the tile floor when I stopped a few feet away. “Hi.” Even my voice squeaked. Ugh. I hated how uncomfortable I felt around Blake. He was one of the owners here, and I really needed this job.

  “Hi. How did it go tonight?”

  I’d seen Blake interact with others for two whole months now. Even with David, who didn’t invite familiarity, he was easygoing and always quick to crack a joke. With me, there was an edge, something I didn’t understand. That edge only fed into my insecurity around him. All the while, my hormones cheered and bounced for attention.

  “Good.” This time, my voice came out raspy. Fuck my life.

  Blake nodded. “Feedback from customers is great, and David is happy with how things are working out.”

  “Is he? It’s hard to tell. His most frequent suggestion is ‘faster.’”

  Blake stared at me for a beat before his lips kicked up in a smile as he chuckled. “Ah.”

  My cheeks burned even hotter. I took a quick breath, willing my heartbeat to slow down. Taking a few steps, I reached for my jacket, slipping into it quickly. “Well, then,” I said as I turned and looped my purse over my shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”