Page 8 of Merry'd to the Mountain Man
Ryan grunts. “You always were full of it, Cole.”
“Believe what you want,” I say lightly. “But it’s too bad you can’t come up for the holidays to see for yourself. Frankie and I were planning to keep it low-key for our first Christmas as a married couple. But I'm sure you'd get a kick out of meeting her.”
I expect another scoff. Maybe even a threat.
What I don’t expect is him saying, “Actually that sounds great.”
“What?”
“Marnie and I will come up on Christmas Eve,” he says. “She’s always on me about working so much over the holidays, and I’d hate to miss meeting the newest member of the Whitaker clan.”
“You don’t have to do that. Frankie was really hoping for just the two of us this year—”
“She’ll love the surprise.”
“Ryan—”
“See you then!”
The call cuts off and I stare at the phone for a few seconds, jaw tight. Well, I should have seen that one coming a mile away.
I shove the phone into my pocket, grab my jacket, and head for the cabin. Through the window, I can see Frankie inside, untangling a mess of lights like she’s about to fight them into submission.
She looks up just as I open the door, her smile bright and easy. “Hey you! I found a box of decorations in the barn. Thought the cabin could use a little holiday cheer.”
“About that,” I say, stepping inside and shutting the door behind me.
Her smile falters. “What’s wrong?”
I sigh. “We’re going to have company for Christmas.”
CHAPTER 7
Frankie
“Company?” I blink at him, sure I must’ve misheard. “What kind of company?”
Cole exhales, dragging his hand across his jaw. It’s something I’ve noticed he does when he’s feeling overwhelmed. “My cousin. Ryan.” He says it like the name leaves a bad taste in his mouth. “He’s coming up here for Christmas Eve.”
I drop the light’s I’d been working to untangle back into the box in front of me. “And that’s bad?”
“Yeah,” he mutters.
Cole explains the reason behind him needing to find a wife for Christmas. From his grandfather’s will to the plans his cousin has for this place if he were to get his slimy fingers on it.
He leans against the doorframe, shoulders slumped, and looking about ten years older than he did five minutes ago. “I should’ve told you the truth about everything from the beginning. He called while I was working in the shop. He knows about the marriage, and he’s convinced it’s a sham.”
“Well—” I laugh quietly.
“And I might have said something to throw him off, and now he’s decided to come here to…celebrate the holidays with us.”
I raise my eyebrows. “You invited him?”
“Technically, I fake invited him.” His mouth tightens. “Didn’t think he’d take me up on it.”
I bite back a laugh. “Well, guess we should get ready.”
He sighs. “You didn’t sign up for this part, Frankie. Puting on a show. Pretending to be—” His eyes flick toward me and then away again. “Actually married.”
