Kissing Jenna
Kristen Proby
Table of Contents
Kissing Jenna
Acknowledgements
About Kristen Proby
Other Books by Kristen Proby
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
About Kristen Proby
Up Next
Other Books by Kristen Proby
Excerpt from All The Way
More Than Want You by Shayla Black
A Big Sky Novel
Kristen Proby
Copyright © 2018 by Kristen Proby
All Rights Reserved. This book may not be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. All characters and storylines are the property of the author and your support and respect are appreciated. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Cover Art:Photography by: Sara Eirew Photographer
Cover and Formatting Design: Uplifting Designs
Print interior photo credit: Trevon Baker
ISBN: 978-1-63350-032-7
Published by Ampersand Publishing, Inc.
Acknowledgements
I need to send out my sincerest gratitude to Gail Goodwin, the owner, artist and entrepreneur who owns Snow Bear Chalets in Whitefish, Montana. I’d always known that Jenna Hull was a fierce businesswoman, and that she would be the innkeeper that Christian fell in love with. But when I saw Ms. Goodwin’s tree houses, I knew that they were Jenna’s passion, as well. What a perfect place to fall in love.
Gail, your willingness to answer my unending questions, and your generosity in inviting me to the tree houses for research were invaluable while I was writing this book, and I am forever grateful. But more than that, I’ve found a new friend, and that’s the best part of all. Thank you for everything.
Dear reader: If you’re interested in visiting the real life tree houses, called Snow Bear Chalets, please visit www.snowbearchalets.com.
About Kristen Proby
Kristen was born and raised in a small resort town in her beloved Montana. In her mid-twenties, she decided to stretch her wings and move to the Pacific Northwest, where she made her home for more than a dozen years.
During that time, Kristen wrote many romance novels and joined organizations such as RWA and other small writing groups. She spent countless hours in workshops, and more mornings than she can count up before the dawn so she could write before going to work. She submitted many manuscripts to agents and editors alike, but was always told no. In the summer of 2012, the self-publishing scene was new and thriving, and Kristen had one goal: to publish just one book. It was something she longed to cross off of her bucket list.
Not only did she publish one book, she’s since published more than thirty titles, many of which have hit the USA Today, New York Times and Wall Street Journal Bestsellers lists. She continues to self publish, best known for her With Me In Seattle and Boudreaux series, and is also proud to work with William Morrow, a division of HarperCollins, with the Fusion and Romancing Manhattan Series.
Kristen and her husband, John, make their home in her hometown of Whitefish, Montana with their adorable pug and two cats.
Website
Facebook
Twitter
Goodreads
Other Books by Kristen Proby
The Big Sky Series
Charming Hannah
Kissing Jenna
Waiting for Willa - Coming Soon
The Fusion Series
Listen To Me
Close To You
Blush For Me
The Beauty of Us
Savor You
The Boudreaux Series
Easy Love
Easy Charm
Easy Melody
Easy Kisses
Easy Magic
Easy Fortune
Easy Nights
The With Me In Seattle Series
Come Away With Me
Under the Mistletoe With Me
Fight With Me
Play With Me
Rock With Me
Safe With Me
Tied With Me
Breathe With Me
Forever With Me
Stay With Me
Indulge With Me
The Love Under the Big Sky Series
Loving Cara
Seducing Lauren
Falling For Jillian
Saving Grace
From 1001 Dark Nights
Easy With You
Easy For Keeps
No Reservations
Tempting Brooke - Coming Soon
The Romancing Manhattan Series
All the Way
Prologue
~Christian~
“DO YOU HAVE YOUR shit figured out?”
Luke Williams is sitting across from me in a restaurant in downtown Seattle, where he summoned me a week ago. I just flew in this morning, on his private jet, to meet with him. I cleared my full schedule for this.
No one in Hollywood says no to Luke Williams. Not if you want to succeed, that is. It seems Luke has the Midas touch when it comes to blockbuster movies, and I admit that I want to work with him. I’ve admired him for the better part of my life. Taking this meeting was a no-brainer.
“What shit would that be?” I sit back, my sunglasses still on my face, and take a sip of my room-temperature water with a squeeze of lemon. His blue eyes narrow as he watches me intently.
“I live in Seattle, not on Mars, Christian. People talk in our little world. I know you’ve had some challenges in the past few years.”
Try since I was six.
Being a child-actor-turned-adult-super-celebrity isn’t without its challenges. I’ve been smart enough to stay far away from the drugs, and most of the women. Hell, I’ve been Hollywood’s clean-cut movie star for the majority of my life, and the image has done well for me. But being in this world means that you choose distance. Loneliness. And it suddenly occurs to me that Luke might be one of the only people in the world who would understand that.
He starred in some of the most successful movies ever made about a decade ago, and despite the mega-stardom, came out of it with a happy marriage and a career that the rest of us envy.
“I’m doing all right. I won an Oscar last year.”
“Congratulations on that, by the way. You also got yourself a DUI and had a very public breakup with your girlfriend.”
He’s not smirking, he’s just watching me while stating facts that anyone who reads a tabloid would know.
“I’m doing fine,” I repeat and take off my glasses, tossing them onto the table, then pinch the bridge of my nose. “And I’m curious as to why you brought me all the way to Seattle, just to have lunch. So you could grill me about my very public private life? You could have just called.”
I expect him to smirk, but he doesn’t. He rubs his fingers over his lips before sitting forward. “You know, Christian, if you ever want to talk about anything, any of it, I’m here. I know you don’t know me well, but you can trust me.”
I believe him. Luke is fiercely private, and I trust that anything I were to say to him would remain between us. I could let my walls down with him, but I’m not sure that we’re there yet.
“Thanks for the offer,” I reply sincerely and push my hand through my hair. “I’m figuring things out.”
He’s quiet for a moment, then nods once.
“There’s a movie that I’m producing. It’s big-budget, and I think it could snag you another Oscar.”
“You could have just called my agent.”
“I could,” he replies with a shrug. “But, I wanted to talk to you in person. This isn’t an action movie like the ones I’ve been making the past few years.”
I tilt my head, my interest piqued.
“This one is based on a true story. It’s about a skier.”
“Is there a book for me to read?”
His lips twitch now. “Of course, there’s a book.”
“I don’t know how to ski,” I warn him, but he just shrugs.
“That’s fine. In fact, it might be good for you to get out of town for a while and prepare for the role, learn to ski, enjoy a change of scenery.”
“I haven’t taken the role yet.”
“I hope you will,” he says with a smile. He spends the next ten minutes selling me on the film, and when he’s finished, he writes down a figure that makes even me swallow hard.
“That’s a lot of money.”
“This is a big deal,” he replies and rests his hands on the table. “I know you need to talk to your agent and your attorney, but frankly, you’re the only actor that I’m considering for this. I want you.”
“Why?”
“You’re talented. And I think you’ll bring some grit to this role, an edge that it needs.”
“I am gritty these days,” I reply with a laugh.
“Which is better than the pretty boy you were as a teenager,” Luke adds, making me narrow my eyes. “It’s not easy to transition from a child actor to an adult one. I know that. But you’re doing it, despite the bumps in the road.”
“Thank you. I think.” He smiles, and I find myself smiling back at him. “I guess I’d better start looking for a ski resort so I can get some lessons in.”
“Excellent,” Luke replies. “Just don’t break a leg. I don’t want to have to postpone filming.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Chapter One
~Jenna~
LAST NIGHT WAS OFF the hizzy.
My beautiful tree houses, Snow Wolf Cottages, are finally finished and open for business. It took a year, several contractor changes, and more money than I anticipated, but here we are.
Thanksgiving weekend is just finished, and I waved my college buddies goodbye this morning as they drove down the hill to the airport, headed back to Port Hudson, New York, to take over the world with their uber-successful company, LWW Enterprises.
I couldn’t be happier for them. And because they’re proud of me, too, three of them came to Cunningham Falls, Montana, to celebrate the grand opening weekend for Snow Wolf Cottages with my local friends and family.
I hosted the party here in the largest of the three units, and we partied into the wee hours of the morning when everyone went home, and the four of us college friends laughed until it was time for them to leave.
I already miss them.
I’m sitting on the snowy deck, wrapped in a quilt, my feet up on the banister and a steaming hot mug of coffee gripped in my hands, taking in the silence of the early morning on a mountain.
Whitetail Ski Resort is blanketed in soft powder, ready for ski season to open tomorrow. My tree houses sit right along one of the runs, and I’m excited for my guests to be able to watch the skiers zip by from the comfort of the luxurious accommodations I’ve provided them.
This is my soul project.
I wanted a place where people could come to visit my hometown of Cunningham Falls and be surrounded by absolute rustic opulence while falling in love with the charm of the area.
And then they’ll go home and make room for someone else.
A deer meanders down the ski run in front of me, sniffing the air.
“Do you smell my coffee, sweet girl?” I ask softly, and she twitches her ears at me, then continues walking away.
Yes, this is where my heart is. This mountain. This town. These people.
I can hear tires crunching over the fresh snow before I see the sleek, black SUV turn the corner toward my place. It parks in the lot below my deck, and a man climbs out, walks around to the back to fetch his luggage, and then stops to take a deep breath and to take in the tree houses looming over him.
It seems Mr. Flint Stone is early.
I narrow my eyes, not moving, and take another sip of my coffee. He’s not supposed to be here until later this afternoon, and I’ve always been a stickler for a schedule. But one thing I’ve learned while being in the hospitality business is that you have to be flexible.
Even if being flexible includes greeting a guest in my pajamas and bunny slippers.
The man waves and offers me a smile, and I wave back.
“Mr. Stone?” I call down.
Of course, that’s not his real name, but he nods.
“Just climb that staircase,” I point to my left, “and I’ll meet you at the front door.”
He nods, and I stand to go inside, shedding my quilt but not setting down my coffee. No, someone would have to pry it from my cold, dead hands.
I open the door and step back, inviting the stranger inside. “Sorry, this won’t be your unit. I stayed here last night.”
Christ, he’s better-looking in person than on the movie screen. He sets his bag down and brushes some snow from his dark blond hair.
“Hi,” he says with a smile.
“Hi. I’m Jenna.” He shakes my hand, and I’m surprised by how warm his skin is.
“Sorry I’m so early,” he says. “The plane was ready, and I decided to take advantage of it.”
“No worries,” I reply with a shrug and hook my hair behind my ear. “I didn’t think I’d ever meet a guest without makeup, in my pajamas and bunny slippers, but here we are.”
He glances around the messy tree house with humor in his blue eyes. “Looks like you had a hell of a party.”
“Oh, we did,” I confirm. “That doesn’t happen often, and I’d anticipated the mess being gone before you got here. This is my grand opening, and my friends helped me celebrate.”
“Congratulations,” he says as his eyes land on the mug I’m holding. “I do not spew profanities. I enunciate them like a fucking lady,” he reads with a smile.
“Damn right,” I reply with a nod. “Now, let me grab my keys, and I’ll show you to your very clean, very comfortable space.”
“Thank you.”
He doesn’t move from the doorway as I walk into the kitchen and rummage in my handbag for the keys to his unit. When I return to him, his hands are in his pockets, and he’s waiting quietly.
“This way, Mr. Stone.”
His lips twitch with humor as I lead him from my unit to the one on the opposite end. “There are three tree houses, as you can see. I’ve put you in this end unit, called the Tamarack, named after the trees found on this property.”
“This is beautiful,” he says, looking around. “I don’t know if I’ve seen anything quite like it.”
“I know,” I reply with a smile. “Trust me, you haven’t.”
I pass him my mug while I unlock the door, then retrieve it and lead him inside, flipping on lights as I go.
“Come on in. This is your home away from home for the next four weeks.” I pause in the kitchen while he wanders through the space, looking outside, then taking in the blue kitchen cabinets, the large gas fireplace, and the comfortable furniture. “In the email correspondence, you asked for extra groceries to be stocked in the kitchen, and I’ve done that for you.”
“Thanks,” he says. “Where’s the closest Starbucks?”
I lea
n my hip on the counter and take a sip of my now lukewarm coffee. “In town.”
“Not on the mountain?”
“There’s a coffee shop up here, yes, but it doesn’t open until tomorrow when the season officially starts. I believe that’s the case for the restaurants up here, too.”
“So, no food up here?”
I shake my head. “No, but I’ll take pity on you and make you dinner tonight, if you like.”
His eyes narrow, suspicion written all over his face. “Why would you do that?”
I lean in as if I’m about to tell him a secret and whisper loudly, “Because I’m a nice person.”
He doesn’t smile.
“You can figure it out for yourself if you want to.” I shrug and lead him to the barn door that closes the small bedroom off the living space. “This is the bedroom on this level. There’s a bathroom here, too. I’ll show you the upstairs.”
I climb the stairs, certain that his eyes are on my ass, and hear him gasp when we reach the top.
“Cool, huh?”
“Beautiful,” he murmurs again, looking up. There’s a turret, accessible only by a ladder that has a bed and a blue ceiling covered in stars. I flip a switch, and the stars light up.
“I wired every one of those myself,” I inform him quietly, sipping my coffee. “It was a pain in the ass.”
“But so worth it,” he says and smiles down at me. I can see why he’s taken. He’s handsome and well-spoken. As far as I can tell, he’s charming.
His girlfriend, who was splashed all over People magazine last week, is a lucky woman.
“Thank you,” I reply with a happy smile. “You’ll have privacy here. And if you need anything, just give me a call. My number is on the kitchen counter, along with the Wi-Fi password. Oh, you’ll find that your cell signal isn’t great up here. It’s better if you go out on the deck.”
