Finding noah foggy basin.., p.1
Finding Noah: Foggy Basin Season Two, page 1
Finding Noah
Foggy Basin Season 2
Gabbi Grey
Noah
I need a fresh start, and Foggy Basin, California, is the perfect place to begin my new life. The accepting small town is such a contrast to the large town I came from. Making a success of my dog-training business—Tricks, Tips, and Backflips—is important to me, and I totally lucked out when my straight best friend, Christian, decided to move with me. He makes my life easier. I just hope he'll be as happy here as I am.
Christian
Following my best friend to Foggy Basin was a no-brainer. I’ve been in love with him since we were five years old. Problem is, I've never had the guts to say so, and while he's out and proud, I'm still in the closet. Somehow, I need to find the courage to make a move before he finds someone else in this gay-friendly town, but Noah thinks I'm straight, and I'm not sure what he'll do when I tell him that’s not exactly true.
Finding Noah is a 44k small-town, friends-to-lovers, interracial, gay romance with fresh starts, well-meaning but nosy neighbors, and some special critters who are along for the ride.
Welcome to Foggy Basin, Season Two. Just passing through? No problem. Here to stay? Well, better find your place. Sit back, relax, and get to know the townsfolk. They love hard and play even harder. Each book is a standalone, but why not stay and get to know us and read them all?
Copyright © 2025 Gabbi Grey.
All rights reserved.
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.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously.
References to real people, events, organizations, establishments or locations are intended to provide a sense of authenticity and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, organizations, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
NO AI/NO BOT. We do not consent to any Artificial Intelligence (AI), generative AI, large language model, machine learning, chatbot, or other automated analysis, generative process, or replication program to reproduce, mimic, remix, summarize, or otherwise replicate any part of this creative work, via any means: print, graphic, sculpture, multimedia, audio, or other medium. We support the right of humans to control their artistic works.
No generative AI was used in the creation of this book.
Edits by ELF
Cover by BL Maxwell
Dedication
Jeanine – thank you for your friendship
Contents
1. Prologue
2. Chapter One
3. Chapter Two
4. Chapter Three
5. Chapter Four
6. Chapter Five
7. Chapter Six
8. Chapter Seven
9. Chapter Eight
10. Chapter Nine
11. Chapter Ten
12. Chapter Eleven
13. Chapter Twelve
14. Chapter Thirteen
15. Chapter Fourteen
16. Chapter Fifteen
17. Chapter Sixteen
18. Chapter Seventeen
19. Chapter Eighteen
20. Chapter Nineteen
21. Epilogue
22. Interested in knowing more about Gabbi?
Prologue
Noah
Istared at the photographs in my hands, not quite believe what I was seeing. I tried turning them to a different angle. Tried to see if maybe the sunlight was hitting them the wrong way. Perhaps…
Nope.
Leroy. Fucking some white dude.
My Leroy.
As in my boyfriend. As in the man I planned to marry. As in the guy whose apartment I lived in.
I tried angling the photograph again.
Nope.
Whoever took these photos was incredibly talented. These weren’t from just some camera on a phone.
Nope.
Telephoto lens from…
I closed my eyes and tried to picture our ground-floor apartment. With the privacy fence… My eyes popped open.
Yep.
The guy who took these—although admittedly it might’ve been a woman—had to have climbed the tree in the park behind our apartment complex.
This was all kinds of sleazy. And definitely illegal. Big-time illegal.
Yet, I didn’t blame the photographer. Well, perhaps a bit. I kind of liked living in ignorance. I could no longer live in denial. The proof sat in my hands as I got fingerprints on the beautiful glossy shots.
“Noah?” Christian sauntered up the walkway to his house.
I sat on the front stoop. Moping.
He offered the boyish grin I expected. My best friend was the happiest guy I knew. Despite all the shit that’d happened to him.
“What’s wrong?” His voice took on urgency since I didn’t respond to him right away.
Emotion clogged my throat. I held the photographs out to him.
He tossed his messenger bag next to me, then snagged the photographs. Slowly, he flipped through them—one by one.
I knew. What he saw. What he thought.
How stupid I was.
Because, frankly, how could he not? He had proof of Leroy’s cheating in his hands. He had proof of my idiocy before him.
Don’t ever call yourself an idiot. Christian’s words circled in my mind. He was so adamant that I never be hard on myself. I always believed him fanciful and, in this moment, I didn’t believe I was worthy of…self-worth. Clearly, I was an idiot.
Slowly, he held his hand out.
I gave him the envelope the photos came in. Just my name in block script with a black pen. Absolutely nothing remarkable about anything. Nothing to give me a hint as to the sender—either their identity or their motive.
Christan tucked the photographs back into the envelope.
I had a vague thought of fingerprints, but quickly dismissed that thought. No way was I taking this to the police. I should be thanking the anonymous photographer—not giving the police the evidence to arrest the man, or woman, who had lifted the veil from my eyes.
Who had destroyed my happiness.
Whatever. Move on.
My best friend tucked the envelope into his messenger bag and plopped next to me on the stoop. “I won’t ask you if you’re okay, because clearly, you’re not. Nor should you be. That sucks.”
“That fucking sucks.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, that too.” He didn’t swear, so he didn’t repeat my words. He slung an arm over my shoulder and pulled me close.
I went willingly—reveling in his strength. He only had a couple of inches on me, but he was a big, broad guy. If he had more padding and less muscle, he could pass for a teddy bear. He definitely had the temperament for one. Unlike me, who could be…sharp. I was muscular and slender. That made me more angles and fewer curves.
“What are you going to do?” He rubbed my shoulder.
“I should confront him, right? And then I should dump his ass, right? And then…” I floundered. Then I sighed, which turned into a sob. “I live in his apartment, for fuck’s sake. So, either I move back in with Mom—and the charmer who’s there now—or I try to find a place of my own. In this town?” My voice broke on that as well.
The factory, the main employer in town, had recently gone on a hiring spree. People from all over the state—and even beyond—came for the jobs. Not great jobs, but—given the economy—any job was appreciated. The newcomers had snapped up every rental and cheap house in town.
Mom worked for the factory, and she had a nice, two-bedroom apartment. Which was great when we were just the two of us. But became super crowded when one of her skeezy boyfriends was living with us. More frequently, of late—which was why I’d moved in with Leroy. “Why, Christian? Why did he cheat? Why was I not enough? Why am I never enough?” For my dad, who took off. For my mom, who is always looking for the next one to fill up the empty well inside her soul. For, apparently, Leroy.
“That’s above my paygrade.” Christian tipped my chin up so our gazes met. “Only you can figure out stuff like that, Noah. Or you can see a therapist to work through your issues.”
I thought he was kidding, but seriousness radiated from those soft-green eyes.
He smiled. A little wistful. A little melancholy. All empathy. “Look, if you could do anything, go anywhere, what would you do?”
I blinked. The answer sure as shit wasn’t to move back in with my mother and live in this factory town for the rest of my life. I worked as a teller in the bank, but I was still tied to the factory’s fortunes—whether I liked it or not. I took a deep breath. “I’d move to Foggy Basin in California and start a dog-training business.”
“Why Foggy Basin?”
“Because I read this tourist brochure and it sounds amazing. Small town, friendly, and in Northern California. Nice climate. I guess…” I hesitated. What was I trying to say? “Fresh start, you know? On the other side of the country.”
Christian smiled. “Then let’s do it.”
“What?”
“Let’s do it. We can pack up and go. Do you have to give two weeks’ notice at the bank?”
“They owe me two weeks’ vacation. I could just take it and not come back.” Again, I blinked. “We? Yo
“Yes, us together. Absolutely. Get away from this place. I’m not needed here. Every time the Frankstons see me, they’re embarrassed. And Laura can’t come home and hold her head high because I’m still here. If I go, then she can come home.”
Laura was Christian’s ex-fiancée. The woman who’d broken his heart. Yet, in this moment, he only thought of her and her comfort with being able to show her face in town after what she’d done to him.
Personally, I was tempted to put the photos of Leroy cheating on me all over the internet. Hell, the town square as well. Except I didn’t want pity and, to my surprise, I didn’t recognize the other dude who was getting ass fucked by my soon-to-be ex. I could accidentally ruin some rando’s life. That wasn’t me. Taking down a creepoid ex? Sure. Destroying someone I didn’t know? Wasn’t in me. “Together?”
“Yep. You and me. I’ll get a retail job, and you can do your dog stuff. We’ll split the bills.” He offered the grin women often swooned over.
I’d thought Laura was one of Christian’s admirers. Clearly, I’d been wrong.
“Just like that?” This felt way too easy.
“Dad’s going to blow a gasket if I tell him I’m quitting, so I vote we just pack our cars and go.”
For the umpteenth time, I blinked. “We can’t just pick up and drive across…” I squinted, bringing a map of the States in my mind. “Six? Seven states?”
“Seven,” he confirmed. “If we go that way.”
How he knew which way I was thinking of was beyond me, but the number of states so was not the issue. “It’s thirty-one hours of driving.”
“So we’ll stop a couple of times. We’ll drive together. I’ll listen to a bunch of audiobooks, and you’ll mainline country music.” He mock-winced.
An ongoing joke between us. We lived in Tennessee, and only one of us liked country music.
The Black dude.
“You know which album I’m listening to.” Somehow, this was becoming real.
“Lovely album, fantastic singer, great pipes, superb humanitarian, and I still would rather listen to Greek for 30 hours.”
“Greek?”
He grinned. “You know the expression, it’s all Greek to me? That’s what country music is to me.”
I sighed. “You’re missing out on a cultural phenomenon.”
“As you tell me often. I suspect you’ll be playing her album often in our new home?” He offered a baleful expression with his mouth drooping.
Our home. For reasons I didn’t understand, that didn’t feel monumental. Christian was just pointing out we’d find a place to live together. I’d listen to my country music, he’d play his classical—Bach being a favorite—and we’d coexist in a small space. Possibly a place smaller than the one-bedroom I was sharing with my asshat ex. “Leroy is in Jackson visiting his mother.”
Christian gave me that look.
Fuck.
I winced. “I honestly thought he was.”
“Maybe he is. That’s not to say he’s not getting some ass on the side.” He gestured to his messenger bag—the one with all the photos inside it.
“He’s cheating on me.”
“That’s entirely possible.”
“So, I should pack and we should go first thing in the morning.”
“That’s advisable. I can pack what I need in my room. Mom’s got Ladies’ Tea and Dad’s got work. I can load the car, and we can be on the road by ten.”
“Just like that?” This felt way too monumental to be doing anything so rash.
He checked his watch. “If you drive straight to the bank and tender your resignation, and take the accrued vacation, then yeah, that simple. Didn’t you say Lettie’s daughter wanted a job at the bank?”
“Yeah. Kitty.” Because, of course, our town’s biggest gossip would name her daughter with the same double consonant as herself.
“Give Kitty a recommendation. Even if she’s a total bomb, you’ll be long gone.”
“Kitty’s actually pretty smart.”
“Great! So you’re helping her out and giving the bank no reason to complain. You might not need a recommendation to get a new job—especially if you’re running your own business—but I say you should never burn bridges.”
“If we go, I’m never coming back.”
“Neither am I.”
“But Christian…” I floundered. “Your family, your friends, your job…they’re all here.”
“I could say the same for you. And yet, we’re off on an adventure. Call me tonight when you’re packing? We can decide what we can take, what we can donate, and what we can throw out.”
“Can I accidentally donate Leroy’s beloved baseball card collection?”
Christian arched an eyebrow. “I don’t see why not. He keeps it with his sex toys, right?”
“I cannot believe I told you that.” Whether I meant about the sex toys, the baseball card collection, or the fact they shared a drawer, I wasn’t certain.
He sighed dramatically. “These are the things we must bear. Charity shop opens at ten—it’ll be our last stop on the way out of town. If Leroy moves fast enough, he might be able to rescue the collection before they sell it. Regardless, I’d say you’re good.”
We both knew I wasn’t…but I honestly didn’t care. I’d staked my future on Leroy—and he’d gone and cheated on me. In our bed. Sleazy didn’t begin to cover it. And anyway, he didn’t have any particularly valuable cards—he just liked to boast he had a collection. A claim about as vacuous as he was. “Let’s do this.” I patted Christian’s thigh. “You’re a good friend.”
“Your best friend,” he reminded me.
“Yeah, that.” We’d been besties since the first day of first grade.
Some third-grade bully had been trying to steal Christian’s expensive sneakers.
I’d fought the kid off and had earned a bloody nose for my trouble. To this day, I kept thinking how did that kid think he’d get away with stealing sneakers and no one would notice? Even hearing this was something he did often didn’t square. Defied logic.
That said, no one ever tried to pick on Christian again. Being the only son of one of the factory owners made him different.
His parents, and their business partners, controlled much of what happened in town. Fortunes were made and destroyed based on who was favored. Losing one’s job could destroy a family. Getting a promotion could lead to prosperity.
And yet Christian was walking away from his inheritance. Frankston and Carter was an institution in our town. Christian was the Carter legacy.
“Okay, I’ll drive to the bank right now and tender my resignation.”
“Make sure they give you the full vacation you’re entitled to. It would be unfortunate if I were to withdraw all my money this afternoon.” He winked.
“We’ll need to find a bank in California. Or a credit union. Once we have a place to live. Oh shit, what if—”
He pressed a finger to my lips. “While you’re finding creative ways to make Leroy pay for his betrayal, I’ll search for rentals in Foggy Basin. We’ll have something lined up before we cross the state line.”
I didn’t ask whether he meant Tennessee or California, because it didn’t matter. If Christian said something was going to happen, then it did. Simple as that. “Okay.”
He patted my shoulder. “Go forth and get it done.”
“Yeah.”
Just over twelve hours later, we pulled out of our town and headed toward a new beginning.
Chapter One
Christian
“This is so quaint.” I grinned as I examined the two-story white house with gingerbread accents. Well, the cut-wood trim probably had a more official name but, to me, the house looked like a gingerbread house would—only white instead of light brown.
Noah leaned against my SUV next to me as we surveyed our new home. We’d driven through the heart of Foggy Basin to get here—which had only been a few square blocks. This town was tiny. So much smaller than the town we’d come from.
This house stood on several acres of fenced, flat grassland. Perfect for running a dog-training center. Our landlady, a charming woman named Miss Esmeralda, had lived here her entire life, but recently had fallen, broken her hip, and been forced to move into a nursing home. She knew she was likely never coming back to her childhood home, but she also couldn’t bear to part with it. She had enough in her inheritance to cover her nursing-care home costs, but a little rental income would help ease things. More importantly, she wanted to know her home was well-cared-for.
