Page 1 of Protective

Chapter One

Heather

I hate this time of year. All this new year, new me bullshit. If someone wants to change their life, then so be it. Eat the broccoli, climb the stairs, drench yourself in self-help books. Do whatever it takes, but leave me out of it.

My friend Trish rolls her eyes toward me as I scroll through Instagram. We’re both sitting on the couch in two day old pajamas and sporting dirty hair, so I’m not sure why she’s got her judgy eyes turned on me. “When was the last time you were on a date?” She knows the answer to this question already, so it’s not really a question. It’s more an accusation, which I turn right back onto her.

“When was the last timeyouwere on a date?”

She leans forward, rolling her eyes even harder before dropping her phone on the coffee table with a huff. “I choose to be single.”

I decide to cut her slack on the flat-out lie she’s telling. “What makes you think I don’t?”

“Umm,” she laughs, “maybe the fact that you whined about it all Christmas break?”

I really should’ve thought through moving in with her. Working together was fun, but living together too has added a level of closeness I’m not sure either of us is enjoying.

I stand from the couch and make my way into the kitchen for a snack. I’m sure she means well, or she’s razzing me out of boredom, but I don’t have the energy for this tonight. “What are you talking about? I never complain about being single.”

She laughs. “Yes, you do! On Halloween, you whined about not having a partner to do the couple costume thing. On Thanksgiving, you whined about sitting at the kid’s table. On Christmas, you whined that you wished you had a family of your own, and you whined on New Year's Eve because you were kissing the cat instead of a man.”

I stand straighter and fold my arms in front of my chest. “I remember saying those things, but I wasn’t whining. I was stating facts based on feelings that I had in the moment. Plus, for most of those holidays, I had a boyfriend. He just chose to… not be around for them.”

She rolls her eyes. “Right! Well, I signed you up for a dating site. You can thank me next Halloween when you’re dressed up as Colonel Sanders next to the bucket of chicken of your dreams.”

“No, you didn’t.” I shake my head and open the fridge to scan for something sweet to take the taste of all the bullshit out of my mouth.

“Chevy. He’s retired from the military. No previous marriage, no kids, loves working on his ranch, and spending time with his dogs. He says his best attributes are his sense of humor, loyalty, and hard work. He’s looking for a woman who doesn’t mind getting her hands dirty and has an interest in homesteading.” She sets her phone on the kitchen counter. “He’s perfect for you.”

I spin back from the fridge empty handed and stare toward her, slack-jawed. “You’re kidding?”

“No,” she grins and pushes her phone across the island toward me, “look…”

“You’re insane. You didn’t really sign me up for this. You’re just reading about some dude. I mean, where’s his picture?”

“There are no pictures. That’s the fun of this site. You put in a request for a guy, you meet up for a few dates sight unseen, and if it works… boom. Mail Order Mountain Man.” She points to the corner of the screen where, sure as rain is wet, there’s a date scheduled with this mystery man.

My laughter is admittedly hysterical as I say, “No way in hell am I doing that.”

She sighs loudly, as though I’m the most annoying person on the planet. It really is time that we both find our own places. “You haven’t been on a date since Bryan. You do realize that not all men play games, right?”

Bryan and I dated for way too long. I thought we’d spend our lives together. The only real problem was his temper and lack of desire to see any point I was ever making. He fixated on each individual word I used instead of looking at the whole picture. And no matter how hard I tried, he never really changed. It was heartbreaking, devastating, and really freaking painful. It only got worse when I saw him with another woman.

“I know.” I swallow hard and stuff a blueberry muffin bite into my mouth. I didn’t particularly want the blueberry treat, but it’s all we have right now. “Every man is different, but I don’t want to deal with all the dating shit yet. Hell, I’m still dealing with Bryan. He calls nonstop, and I’m pretty sure he followed me to work on Monday.”

She looks at me like I’m crazy. “Even better reason to move on. You deserve so much more than the bullshit he puts you through. Get a restraining order and go on this date. I know you want more from life than bunking with your friend for eternity.” Deep down, I know she means well, and I know she’s right abouteverything, but trusting someone else with my heart sounds like climbing Mount Everest.

“I don’t know. I’m nervous. I… I need to get in shape and get m—”

Her eyes roll again. “Chevy marked all body types on his profile. You’re making excuses. Just talk to him. It’sonedate. He doesn’t know your last name and he can’t find you outside of the ranch.”

“The ranch?”

“Yeah, so… these guys sign up for this Mail Order Mountain Man thing, and when they have a date lined up, they go to the ranch for a week. If the first date works out, you go on another. If that works out, you do a pseudo week together in a cozy little cabin.”

“So, these guys aren’t even from Rugged Mountain?”

Her eyes roll again. “Don’t do that.”

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