Page 2 of Chosen for the Mountain Man

We each salute and Duke disconnects the call. I'm left staring out the window at the sunset, weighing the pros and cons of grabbing another bottle of beer.

I lean back in my chair, running a hand through my hair. The cabin’s quiet around me, the only sound the occasional crackle of the fireplace I’d lit earlier. For some reason, chilly Montana nights like this make the loneliness feel heavier than others.

My computer pings, breaking the silence, and I glance over at my monitor. It’s an email notification from Mountain Mates—the dating app I’d impulse-joined last night in a moment of weakness. Or maybe it was something more likehope. But something about the site’s guarantee that they could find my perfect match with their innovative new software had me…intrigued. Hell, maybe I even wanted to prove them wrong.

I decide to grab that second beer. And chug it. For courage. Then I pull up my email.

Subject line: YOU HAVE A MATCH!

That’s an awful lot of enthusiasm.

We’ll see if it’s warranted.

I click on the profile, and suddenly, she’s there.

MsWrite28…

Her photo grabs me like a physical force, taking my breath away.

She’s beautiful. With long, wavy hair the red-gold color of the mountain sunset outside. Her eyes, a stormy gray, seem to look right through me. She’s almost ethereal, like a forest nymph or fairy.

“She's out of my league,” I mutter, feeling self-conscious of my rough, calloused hands, battle-scarred body, and aging, overworked joints and bones.

She looks younger than her stated age of twenty-eight, her features delicate and sweet. There’s a sprinkle of freckles across her nose and cheeks, and this tiny, mischievous smile playing on her lips. The kind of smile that makes a man want to know what it’s hiding.

I scan her profile, and my eyes linger on every word.

She’s an outdoor enthusiast, who particularly loves hiking and swimming. Loves brisk morning walks and cuddling at night by the fire. She’s looking for a partner to share in grand adventures and life’s simple joys—a man who’ll let her spread her wings and at the same time call her his own.

She’sperfect.

Everything I’ve asked for.

I’d say she’s a bot, something the website created on its own. But there’s something about her that feels genuine, authentic, and it draws me in like a magnet. I can picture her out here in the mountains, her hair catching the wind, her eyes lighting up when she talks about her passions. She’s the kind of woman who makes you want to listen, to hear more, to know her better.

But then doubt sets in. I tell myself I should swipe past, that I’m too old, too set in my ways, too…wrongfor someone like her. What would a wide-eyed beauty like her want with agruff ex-Marine like me? But the damned thing is, I can’t look away. There’s something about her that feels like home, like the missing piece I didn’t realize I was searching for so desperately.

I hover over the message button for what feels like an eternity.

Then I think about Duke and Ro and how they found each other, about how love doesn’t give a damn about timelines or expectations. It just happens.

Like it had with my parents.

So before overthinking can set in, I take a deep breath, and click the button.

Here goes nothing.

CHAPTER 2

CIARA

The winding roads of Deepwood Mountain always make me feel like I’m driving into a postcard. The trees tower above, their leaves a rich spring green against the crisp blue sky. I glance at the GPS for what feels like the hundredth time.

Hallie’s voice blares through the car speakers, and I wince, turning the volume down. “Ciara, I can’t believe you’re actually doing this,” she says, with a frustrated sigh. “Meeting some strange man you met online at his cabin in the middle of nowhere? What if he’s a psycho?”

I roll my eyes, even though I know she can’t see me. “Hallie, he’s not a psycho. He’s a Marine. Ex-Marine. And he owns a cleaning business, for god’s sake. Isn’t it ‘cleanliness is next to godliness’ or something like that?”

“Serial killers can beclean,” she shoots back. “At least the good ones are.” She huffs. “You know Mom and Dad would lose their minds if they found out about this, right? And Lennox! Shit, Lennox might actually divorce me for not telling him.”

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