Page 1 of Snowed In with Three Mountain Men

PROLOGUE

CALLUM

I glanceat the woman sleeping next to me—her dark hair spilled out around her on the pillow, eyes closed, the slow rise and fall of her breath the only sound in the near-silent room. She looks beautiful. Peaceful. Perfect.

And I know I can’t be here when she wakes up.

The thought stabs like a blade straight into my heart, the reality of this mess getting the better of me all at once. Squeezing my eyes shut, I remind myself why I’ve come to this decision—why I need to leave her behind, no matter how much it fucking hurts.

Slowly, quietly, I swing my legs out of bed. I hate the thought of her waking up to find me gone, but if I stay another night, it’s going to be even harder to pull myself out of here. The thought of looking her in the eyes, telling her I need to go, that whatever we’ve had together is over—I can’t go through with it if she’s there, looking into my eyes, giving me all the good reasons I should stay.

Fuck.Eventhe thought of that is enough to make my stomach lurch. What the hell was I thinking, bringing her to a place likethis, a place that’s so precious to my family, interweaving her with a part of my past I know I won’t be able to shake off…?

I know the answer to that. It’s because this place, this cabin, it’s been my last connection to the life I had before—before I left for the SEALs, before everything changed underneath me, before the ground beneath my feet gave way and left me grabbing at air. My father would bring my brothers and me up here every summer, and we’d spend hours out in the cold Oregon air, cutting wood, hunting, gardening, cooking. Back then, it felt like I was really useful, like I was worth something, and I needed to believe, at least for a while, that I could reach that spot again with her.

But I can’t. I think I knew that even when I started packing up the car—she had emerged from her little studio apartment on the west side of the city, a couple of backpacks draped over her shoulders, and waved at me excitedly.

“I can’t remember the last time I got to go out to the countryside like this!” she exclaimed as she draped her arms around my shoulders and gazed at me with an excited grin on her face. “It’s going to be so much fun. This cabin, how big is it…?”

She hit me with questions as I drove her up, and I tried to answer them as they came. But even as we headed out of the city, I could sense it—that uneasiness hanging over my head, the same kind that had been there from the moment I met her for our first date. No matter how sweet she was, or how beautiful, or how clever or witty or kind, there was something clinging to me that I couldn’t shake off just like that.

And now, I know that running from the city isn’t enough to get rid of it either. No, whatever I have wrong with me, it’s followed me up here. This one place where my life was meant to be easy,where everything was supposed to make sense, and I still feel as crazy as I did back home.

And if this isn’t enough to clear my head, I don’t know what will be. But I know one thing for sure—I can’t inflict this bullshit on her. It’s not fair.

I glance back at her. She’s still sleeping, in a cami and a pair of shorts, her arms tossed up over her head as they always are when she’s deep in rest. That’s the thing—she’s perfect, and if I’d met her a few years earlier, I never would have allowed myself to fuckingconsiderleaving her like this. But she deserves a boyfriend who she can actually have fun with, not one who spends Saturday nights at home because the thought of being surrounded by all that noise and all those people at a bar is way too much for him to take.

I know she’s already made allowances for me. Already pulled back from some of her friends, who were so keen to meet me, because she knew it would have stressed the hell out of me. Her friends probably thought I was some abusive psycho trying to cut her off from everyone around her, but it’s not that—I would never want her to make her life or herself smaller for me.

But I’m not in the same place that she is, or any of her friends, for that matter. They’re all in their late teens, early twenties, and all they want to do is party and have fun and enjoy their post-college years. But me? I’m carrying the weight of the damn world on my shoulders, and that’s not going to become her problem too.

I get dressed as quietly as I can, careful not to wake her. Though there is something at the back of my mind that hopes her eyes will suddenly flutter open, that she’ll suddenly look over at meand sleepily ask what I think I’m doing as she reaches her arms out to draw me back to bed.

If that happens…if that happens, then I’m not going to be able to go through with this. There’s a part of me, a part of me bigger than I’d like to admit, that wants to be selfish and just stay here with her, with this woman I’ve fallen so hard for, but I can’t. It’s not fair.

She deserves someone normal. Someone who can give her the life she actually wants. Not some guy who can’t set foot outside the bounds of his apartment without planning it like a fucking mission first.

Of course, I’ve made sure she has transport back home. By the time she wakes up tomorrow, a car will be on the way from the city to pick her up. I’ve paid the fare in advance. She’ll be back at her apartment in a matter of hours, and hopefully, in a few weeks’ time, she’ll have forgotten about me entirely.

My stomach twists again at the thought, and I ignore it. This isn’t about me. This is about her. Giving her what she needs, but what she won’t ask for herself, because she’s too fucking kind for that. She’d never walk away from me on her own terms, because she wants to help me through the shit I have to live with.

At least, now she does. I can only imagine how it would be a few months, years down the line, once she realizes that I’m still just as fucked-up as I was when we met. She’d grow tired of me, and she’d want a way out. I’m just giving her one, so she doesn’t have to make the call herself. It’s my last gift to her, a chance to start over, without me pulling her down.

I stand in the doorway and look at her one last time, drinking in the sight of her. I find that I’m almost willing those sweet green eyes to flutter open, but they don’t. She stays sleeping.

Just the way I need her to.

Finally, forcing myself, I turn and move toward the door of the cabin, grabbing the bag that I packed earlier tonight. I told her it was for a hike, and she’d lit up at the thought, already excited to explore a little more of what this place has to offer.

I hate letting her down. But in the long run, it’s the best thing for her, the best thing for both of us. I’ll get back to my life, start working on myself, and from there, I’ll figure out exactly how I’m going to recover from the mess that haunts me every time I close my eyes.

A mess that she will have nothing to do with.

I turn my back on her, a wrench in my chest as I head for the door and grab my bag. The car is waiting outside, sitting among the familiar trees and the scent of the Oregon dirt—in the summer, the place is alight with leaves and flowers, every inch of it punctuated by color in one direction or another.

But for now, all I can focus on is the gray. A gray that I do not want to pull Charli into. A gray that she didn’t sign up for by getting involved with me.

A gray I will take with me, and free her from. For good.

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