Page 1 of The Mountain Man's Irresistible Bride
Chapter One
Juniper
The gravel crunches under the tires of the ride-share car as we wind deeper into the woods, the road narrowing with every passing mile. Pine Hollow is beautiful, like something from a postcard or one of those romantic fall movies I used to watch with a pint of ice cream and no plans on a Friday night. Fiery leaves drift down from trees that look like they’ve been painted in impossible reds and golds. The air is crisp, and when I roll down the window, it smells like pine and woodsmoke.
There’s a pit in my stomach as we get closer to my destination. While I might look like someone confidently heading toward her new life, I am broke, recently heartbroken, and running out of options.
I pull the envelope from Match Mates out of my tote bag for the millionth time and re-read the information.
Elias Boone. Carpenter. Seeks a marriage of convenience. Secluded cabin. Room and board provided.
The online form had been straightforward. A place to start over. A man who didn’t want love or drama. Just someone to help hold things together. Maybe cook a little. Keep him company. I could do that. Hell, after my last relationship? No romance sounds pretty perfect.
“Is this it?” the driver asks, his voice uncertain.
I look up. The cabin looms ahead, and it is not what I expected.
Instead of the tidy log home I envisioned, I’m met with scaffolding, a ladder propped against the side, and what appears to be a tarp acting as part of the roof. One of the porch beams is missing entirely. The front yard looks like a lumberyard exploded.
The driver unloads my suitcase, hesitates like he might ask if I want to turn back, then wisely decides to keep his thoughts to himself. As he drives away, my heels crunch on a mix of dirt, sawdust, and broken dreams.
“Hello?” I call out, trying to sound bright and confident and not like I’m having a slow-moving panic attack.
Then I see him.
Elias Boone is tall. Not just tall—he’s massive. Broad shoulders fill out a flannel shirt that’s been rolled up to reveal strong forearms dusted with sawdust. His jeans ride low on narrow hips, and his dark hair is pushed back in that careless, sexy way that suggests he either doesn’t own a mirror or doesn’t care how good he looks.
But it’s his eyes that stop me. Piercing, pale gray, and currently staring at me like I’m a particularly annoying raccoon who’s shown up to steal his tools.
“You’re early.” His voice is low, gravelly. It’s been a long time since he used it.
“I’m on time,” I reply, lifting my chin. “You sent a letter that said today.”
He doesn’t argue. Just walks past me, grabs my suitcase like it weighs nothing, and carries it toward the front door. Which, by the way, is missing a knob.
“This is not exactly what I imagined,” I say as I follow him inside.
He doesn’t respond.
The interior is rough—wood framing, unfinished floors, and a plastic sheet covering part of the ceiling. There’s a bed framewith no mattress in one corner and a small wood stove in the other. The only modern appliance appears to be a dented mini-fridge humming in the corner.
“This is your idea of move-in ready?”
“I didn’t promise anything,” he mutters.
“You promised a cabin. Those usually have four walls and a whole roof.”
He drops the suitcase and folds his arms over that intimidating chest. “You can leave. I won’t stop you.”
For a second, I consider it, but then I think about the apartment I just gave up. My ex-boyfriend is currently shacking up with his yoga instructor. My bank account, which would laugh at me if it could, and the fact that the idea of being somewhere quiet, where no one knows me, where I don’t have to pretend everything’s fine, is suddenly everything I need.
“No,” I say, stepping closer. “I’m staying.”
His brow lifts slightly. “You sure?”
“Unless you plan to toss me into the woods.”
He lets out something between a grunt and a laugh. “Suit yourself.”
