316 Rose Rd
A Cherry Falls Romance
By Frankie Love
Harper Higgins is way too sweet for a mountain man like me.
But when she shows up at my campgrounds, renting herself a cabin for some “me-time,” I can’t help but want her.
When I ask her why she needs this alone time… she gets pink in the cheeks and clams up.
This girl has a secret, and I intend to figure it out.
When I do, all hell breaks loose. I need her. Now.
Trouble is, her father’s the preacher in Cherry Falls and I’m the surly man in the mountains who will never be good enough for his little girl.
It’s time I change everyone’s mind.
Because losing Harper is not an option.
Cherry Falls is filled with returning characters and iconic destinations that will begin to feel like family. When you leave the city, and drive into Cherry Falls, it’s like you’ve finally come home.
The cherry on top? Each book delivers a swoon-worthy romance!
So welcome to Cherry Falls, we hope you stay awhile!
Chapter One
Cliff
It’s been a long ass winter and I’m glad to see the snow has finally all melted. The early morning rain has passed, and the sun is actually shining through the big pine trees towering above me, which is a good omen. And one I could use. After all these months holed up in my cabin I’m ready for some blue skies. And while I won’t admit this to most anyone – I crave some human connection, too.
I know, most folks consider me a grumpy ass mountain man, but I’m also just a regular guy with needs. As familiar as I am with the basics of taking care of myself, I’ll admit that right about now I wouldn’t mind a woman in my bed to care for too.
Damn, maybe I was alone for too long this winter. Since when do I wax poetic about taking care of a woman?
There’s a chill in the morning mountain air and I rub my hands together to ward off the cold as I look around the picnic area that I had my maintenance guy Charlie clean up. I hope the weather holds for the folks who reserved this area for tomorrow.
It’s my favorite time of year out here in the Wild Ridge Mountains. In early spring there aren’t many other guests around, just a couple of booked-out cabins on the outskirts. Warm enough not to freeze your ass off when you come outside, but still cold enough to keep the summer vacationers away.
I spend the next few hours tracing my usual path along the outside of the picnic area, up toward the Wild Ridge waterfall, my favorite place in the goddamn world. It’s my job to keep this area safe and protected, and I take it seriously. I may be a little rough around the edges, but I understand the value of something precious. This mountain range is just that. And until I meet the right woman, I suppose it’s the only treasure I got.
As I make sure that everything is as it should be, I notice something out of the corner of my eye, along the dirt path that leads up to a hiking trail into the mountains. I crouch down to get a closer look.
Cougar tracks. The rain we had this morning has almost washed them away, but I’ve seen enough since I started working here to know them on sight. I straighten up, cupping my hand over my eyes to get a better look up the trail, where the sun is pouring down with a cheerful brightness. Nothing on the horizon, but I should still call it in. Tempting as it is to let these city folks deal with it on their own, I know that if something bad happened, I’d never forgive myself.
I head back towards the reception area. Once inside the small cabin outfitted with a desk and check-in table, I grab myself a coffee from the machine, and then dial up Miles at the fire station. He’s the one who deals with anything like this, and I know that he’s going to be irritated that he has to come all the way up here to check things out.
"Hello?" he greets me after a couple of rings, curt and to the point.
"Hey, Miles," I reply. "Got some cougar tracks up at the campsite. Thought you oughta know about it before any weekend guests arrive."
He sighs, a rush of static down the line. "Can you handle it?" he asks.
"You know, if you hate your job so much, you can just quit," I joke.
He chuckles, giving in to my point. "I’ll be up to check it out as soon as I get the chance," he replies. "Make sure that coffee machine’s working, all right? I want something hot when I get up there..."
"Will do," I reply, and I hang up the phone just as the front door opens. The woman who walks in is wearing high-heeled boots that are terribly impractical and a fluffy pink sweater that hugs her full chest tight. But that isn’t what has my attention. It’s her smile – bright as the sky – and her eyes, sparkling like the rushing water at the falls.
I run a hand over my jaw, wondering what this woman, all alone, is doing out here. There isn’t another soul for miles. Just her and me.
Damn, my cock twitches at the thought. Like I said, it’s been a long ass lonely winter.
She flashes me a broad grin as I meet her gaze. She brushes a strand of her fiery-red hair back from her face, her freckled features like the icing on a goddamn cake.
"Hey!” She greets me brightly. "Do you work here?”
"Depends," I reply. "What do you need?”
"Someone to get me checked into my cabin," she explains. "I have it booked over the next few days. Harper Higgins?”
I furrow my brow at her as I make my way around the desk and check the bookings that Charlie keeps scribbled down in the notebook. Sure enough, there it is, Harper Higgins, in black and white.
I lift my gaze and eye her again. Nothing she’s wearing looks even close to suitable for this part of the world, and I wonder if she has any idea what she’s in for.
"You look pretty comfortable back there for someone who might not work here," she remarks, smiling. She has a slightly crooked smile, warm and genuine.
I shrug. "Do anything enough times and you figure it out," I reply, and I go rooting under the desk for the keys to the cabin that she has rented. She watches me as I do so, and I can feel those piercing blue eyes on me as I try to get this done.
"Thank you for helping me out," she tells me as I put the keys down in front of her.
"You’re going to need all the help you can get," I reply before I can stop myself. She tips her head to the side, pouting playfully and raising her eyebrows.
"And what’s that supposed to mean?” she demands. I could have just stopped right then, told her to forget it, but I’ve never been good at keeping my mouth shut when I should.
"Don’t see many girls like you marching around here this time of year," I explain. "And the ones who do don’t last long."
"First off, I’m a woman, not a girl," she shoots back good-naturedly. "And second – maybe if you all were a little more welcoming, more of us would come up here."
"Maybe," I remark, and I find she is still smiling at me.
"So, where exactly is the cabin?” she asks.
"There are signs outside, you just have to follow the path that comes out of here down to the stone marker, and then take a left, and–"