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    Kissing a Fool: I'm Your Man, #1
    Kissing a Fool: I'm Your Man, #1
    Kissing a Fool: I'm Your Man, #1
    Ebook90 pages1 hour

    Kissing a Fool: I'm Your Man, #1

    By Andrea Dalling

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    About this ebook

    Snowbound in a mountain cabin, will these two opposites fall in love?

     

    Mason's life isn't going quite the way he planned. He's taken a job at his mother's real estate brokerage to pay the bills, and he wants to prove he can make a success of it. So he's thrilled when the owner of a high-end mountain cabin hires him for what promises to be a big commission. It doesn't hurt that Rhy is ruggedly handsome and good with his hands—in more ways than one. Despite the heat that instantly sparks between them, Mason's mom wouldn't approve of him mixing business with pleasure, and he's always been one to follow the rules. When a snowstorm forces him to bunk with Rhy for the weekend, he's not sure he can resist temptation.

    The last thing Rhy wants is to sell the cabin he inherited from his grandfather. It's his only tie to what's left of his family. But the isolation is getting to him, and he needs to move to a place closer to town. When he spots Mason's photo in a local LGBTQ business directory, he knows he's found his man—or at least his real estate agent. The guy is just as gorgeous in person, with his clean-cut looks and soulful puppy-dog eyes. Rhy can't say he's sorry when the guy gets stranded at his place. He's happy for the company, and wouldn't mind if they ended the weekend as more than friends.

    But despite a stolen kiss, Mason wants to keep their relationship businesslike. Rhy isn't sure he can deal with much more rejection—not after what happened with his parents. Mason's optimistic nature is just what Rhy needs to awaken from the heavy sadness that's blanketed him since the loss of his grandfather, the one person on earth he could truly rely on. Can Rhy convince Mason to give them a shot? Or is Rhy a fool to hope for love?

    This steamy, snowbound gay romance novella has a happy ending and no cliffhanger.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherLoveLight Press
    Release dateJan 29, 2017
    ISBN9798201916480
    Kissing a Fool: I'm Your Man, #1
    Author

    Andrea Dalling

    Andrea Dalling lives in the sexy Southeast U.S., where the summers are hot and the romance hotter. She loves to torture her characters but eventually rewards them with a happily-ever-after.  Married to her college sweetheart, she's an ally and an advocate for LGBT rights. When she's not writing, she enjoys gardening at her Raleigh home and scuba diving in the clear blue waters of the Caribbean.  You can follow her on Facebook (andrea.dalling.romance) or on Twitter (@Andrea_Dalling). For news about upcoming releases, sign up at http://eepurl.com/00WxP or visit her website at http://andreadalling.com. Want free books? Sign up for her ARC Club to receive advance reader copies. http://eepurl.com/2c4DH

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      Book preview

      Kissing a Fool - Andrea Dalling

      Chapter 1

      Wind whooshed as Mason Kane stopped the sedan in front of the mountain cabin. Cabin hardly did it justice. The timber building was styled after a Swiss chalet, the heavy horizontal lines interrupted by gables. A deep wraparound porch looked inviting.

      He stepped out under the canopy of pine, oak, and gray-trunked birch. Dry leaves crunched underfoot. An earthy scent rose into the crisp, cold air. The snow wasn’t supposed to start for hours, but it was already a good ten degrees below freezing.

      Mason covered his face with his red plaid scarf and hugged his black wool coat tighter to his body. The flagstone staircase was solid as he ascended to the front door. The place had obviously been meticulously maintained by someone who knew what he was doing. That would be good for resale value. Buyers would love the place.

      The remote location was more concerning. The last stretch of road had some treacherous hairpin turns. Not the sort of thing Mason would want to drive at night. And the nearest store was a half hour away. You’d need to keep the place well stocked during the winter months in case a freak storm hit.

      Mason rang the bell and a rugged-looking blond man opened the door. To his surprise, the guy was in his mid-twenties, about Mason’s age. Translucent, pale blue eyes. Square jaw with a dimple in the middle of his chin. So gorgeous that Mason almost melted despite the cold.

      You must be Mason, the guy said as he ushered him inside. His smooth baritone made Mason’s stomach dip. I’m Rhy.

      Mason took off a glove and shook the outstretched hand. Good to meet you in person. This place is fantastic.

      The promise of the outside was exceeded by the interior. The great room was gigantic, the stone fireplace rising two stories to the ceiling. Exposed beams gave structure to the open space. Just beyond was the kitchen, which looked brand new, shining with stainless steel, black granite, and glazed maple.

      It was my grandfather’s pride and joy. I hate to sell it, but I’m too isolated up here, and I can’t afford to buy a place in town otherwise. Rhy led Mason to the fireplace, complete with a wood stove. Let’s get you warmed up. Should I take your coat, or do you want to keep it on a few minutes first?

      I’m good. Mason peeled off his coat and scarf, stuffing his gloves into the pockets. The place was toasty warm. You have gas heat in here?

      Propane, Rhy said as he hung the coat in the closet near the front door, but it rarely switches on if you keep the fireplace going. The wood stove is state of the art and super efficient. And there are solar panels. Grandad liked the remoteness of this place, but he never wanted to skimp on the amenities.

      I’d say not. Big-screen TV, surround sound...

      That all stays. No point lugging it down the mountain. In fact, I’d like to sell it furnished.

      The furniture wasn’t as updated as the rest of the house, but if the two couches were reupholstered, they’d be as good as new. Some buyers would like that. Mason took out his tablet and keyed in some notes.

      I made coffee. It’s a Sumatran blend. I hope that’s not too pretentious.

      Mason grinned. The coffee houses in Azalea Ridge are known for their pretentiousness.

      My favorite was The Better Bean. I can’t believe they closed.

      Owner got tired of the cold winters, from what I understand. Moved to Sumatra.

      Rhy chuckled at Mason’s poor attempt at a joke. Mason hoped it wasn’t a pity laugh, but it probably was. Still, Mason liked the way the guy’s eyes crinkled at the corners and his smile lit his face.

      Ugh. No developing a crush on a client. His mom had a thing about professionalism, and it wouldn’t do if he got all goofy over the property owner of his first big listing.

      Rhy brought the coffee to the table, and Mason went over his marketing plans. "I’ve priced out the comps, but I’d want to list this higher. It’s in great shape, and it’s beautiful. It’s got that wow factor real estate agents love."

      That’s great. I mean, Grandad left me enough to live on for a while, and I freelance as a web developer, but it’s not exactly a steady paycheck. I’m hoping to get a smaller house just outside of town without spending all the equity in this place.

      Oh yeah, that shouldn’t be a problem. How many bedrooms would you need?

      Rhy shrugged. Two or three? It’s just me, but I guess three would be better for resale value.

      He’s single. Excitement bubbled through Mason’s chest, even though he knew he shouldn’t let himself feel that way. You could find something nice for maybe a hundred grand less than you could get for this place.

      That would be awesome. Rhy nodded, then jumped up. Oh wait, I haven’t even shown you the best part.

      The bedrooms? Mason’s face heated as soon as he said it.

      Hehehe. No, the bedrooms are nice, but I was talking about the basement. He wagged his brows. Follow me.

      Mason’s whole body was flushed now, the beginnings of an erection developing beneath his neat suit. He tried to will it away—but following Rhy down the basement steps, his perfect round ass in full view, all Mason could think about was how over-the-top sexy the guy was. The muscles that strained against Rhy’s shirt didn’t come from a gym, Mason suspected—probably from chopping firewood to keep the house well stocked.

      Smart and good with his hands. It was a heady combination. Mason would have to work to keep his wits about him.

      As the basement space came into sight, Mason stopped and stared. Though technically unfinished, with a concrete floor and the wooden studs showing, it was immaculate. It was outfitted as a carpentry workshop: table saw, planer, lathe, router, and stacks of lumber in various shapes and sizes.

      Do you know how to use all these tools? Mason asked.

      Oh yeah, Grandad taught me from the time I was little. He was a true craftsman. A wistful expression came over him.

      I’m sorry. The loss must have hit you hard.

      "Yeah. He was really the only family I had

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