Wired for You (Men of Copper Mountain #4) Read Online Aria Cole

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Insta-Love Tags Authors: Series: Men of Copper Mountain Series by Aria Cole
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Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 29124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 146(@200wpm)___ 116(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
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Bella never expected that moving to a small town to renovate an old inn would change her life. Fresh off a high-stakes job in the city, she’s left the chaos behind—and a toxic ex-boss who thought her success came with a price. Determined to prove she’s fine on her own, Bella’s not looking for distractions. But when she calls local electrician Archer Steele to fix the inn’s wiring, she gets a lot more than she bargained for.
Archer is rugged, down-to-earth, and every bit the small-town guy Bella thinks she’s left behind. But the electricity between them isn’t just in the walls—it’s in the heated glances and stolen touches that leave them both breathless. As they work side-by-side, sparks ignite, leading to impulsive, late-night encounters that scorch the lines between business and pleasure.
But when Bella’s past comes calling, threatening to pull her back to the life she fled, Archer isn’t ready to let her go. He may not be the city man she’s used to, but he’s ready to show her that love—like a good connection—requires the right wiring. Can Archer convince Bella that a future in Copper Mountain, with him, is everything she didn’t know she needed?

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

Bella

The cold mountain air bites at my skin the moment I step out of the car. I draw in a deep breath, but it doesn’t settle the churning in my stomach. Instead, the scent of pine needles and damp earth makes me feel even more out of place. My heeled boots sink into the gravel with a sharp crunch. I glance down, shaking my head at myself. Who the hell wears stilettos in a town like this? This isn’t Manhattan. This is Copper Mountain, population...small.

I turn to face the old inn, the one that now belongs to me, though “belong” feels like too grand a word for the relationship I already have with this place. The listing made it seem quaint, even charming in that rustic, "needs a little work" sort of way. What stands in front of me is neither. The roof dips in the middle, as if it’s given up on holding the sky up. Windows—cracked, some shattered—gape at me like hollow eyes. The porch looks ready to collapse under its own weight, let alone under the burden of guests. And the weeds? They’ve claimed the garden as their own.

The sight of it all makes my heart sink lower than it already was. What have I done?

I shut the car door with a click and pull my cashmere coat tighter around me, but it doesn’t shield me from the cold feeling of apprehension creeping down my spine. My breath fogs in front of me as I let out a long exhale, watching it dissipate into the mountain air. The place looks worse than it did online, like it’s taken one last breath and is now waiting for someone to declare it dead. The Copper Mountain Inn is more than a fixer-upper, it’s got one foot in the grave.

I hesitate before stepping toward the inn, my heels scraping against the cracked stone path. It feels like a warning. A smarter woman would get back in her car and drive straight back to the city, but I’m not smart today. I’m stubborn. And I’ve come too far to turn around now.

Each step I take toward the door sends a shiver of doubt through me. When my heel touches the first wooden step of the porch, it groans ominously, and I freeze, holding my breath like the old wood might sense my fear and swallow me whole. Perfect, I think. Just what I needed—an inn with a personality disorder.

I push the door open, the creak loud in the otherwise quiet mountain air, and step inside. The smell hits me first. Musty, old, and stale, like this place hasn’t breathed properly in years. Dust coats every surface, including the faded sheets covering the furniture. Sunlight trickles in through the grimy windows, casting long, eerie shadows across the floor.

For a moment, I stand still in the middle of the lobby, taking it all in. I can almost hear what it used to be—guests checking in, the low hum of conversation, the crackle of a fire in the hearth. But now, it’s just silence, and it presses in on me from all sides.

I wrap my arms around myself, fighting back the uncertainty threatening to take root in my mind. You wanted a fresh start. Here it is. But the thought rings hollow, just like this inn.

The floor creaks beneath my boots as I walk across the room, wiping my sleeve across the grimy window to look out at the town below. Copper Mountain is quaint in a way I’ve never known. Small shops line the narrow main street, and there’s a cafe that looks like it could have been lifted straight out of a postcard. Everything looks so quiet, too quiet. And the silence, the stillness of this place, it unsettles me. In the city, there was always noise, always movement, something to drown out the doubts, the voices in my head. Here, I’m alone with my thoughts, and I’m not sure if I’m ready for that kind of confrontation.

As I stare out the window, my thoughts drift, unbidden, back to my ex-boss, David. His smug face looms in my mind like a ghost I can’t shake. The memory of our last encounter is fresh, too fresh. The way he’d looked at me, like I was something he could own. His hand on my wrist, tight enough to leave marks, and the way his voice had dropped to that condescending tone, “You’re making a mistake, Bella.”

I hadn’t needed to hear him say it. I knew the moment I told him that my career in the city was over. He made sure of that, firing me on the spot, as if I didn’t matter, as if the eight years I’d put into my work meant nothing. That’s what drove me here, to this rundown inn in a town that doesn’t know my name. But now, standing in the silence, surrounded by crumbling walls, I wonder if maybe he was right. Maybe I’ve made the biggest mistake of my life.


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