Page 23 of Entranced in the Mountains
“What are we supposed to do?” Tessa asks.
“I don’t know,” I say as I head to the door. “But if you stay together, I’d recommend being a little nicer to each other. I’m sorry, but I have to go. I have a date to get ready for.”
I don’t stick around to see their reactions. Relief fills every inch of my body as I close the door and dance across the hall to my room. I can’t believe it’s over. I’m finally out.
A lightness fills my chest as I slip into my room and shut the door. My harp case is in the corner and I smile when I see it. Playing in the quartet turned my passion into such a grind and I lost all enjoyment in playing.
Now that it’s finally over… I’m feeling so relieved. I’m feeling like the future is open before me with so much possibility.
I pull out my harp, feeling energized and creatively awake for the first time in a long time.
My heart soars as my fingers dance along the strings, playing a new tune that could be the start of a new song.
I get lost in the melody for half an hour until my phone lights up. It’s Mira.
We’re leaving in an hour. U coming?
I take a deep breath, but I don’t even have to think about it. There’s no way I’m missing my date with Sheriff Sexy.
No. I’m staying.
Fine.
And just like that, Angelic Divine is over, and a new chapter of my life is about to begin.
“Wow,” Ryland says when he picks me up for our date. He just stands there, staring like he’s forgotten what to do or say. “You look… stunning.”
It’s just a simple black dress that I wear on stage sometimes, but I left the top two buttons open. It seems to be making all the difference.
“Thank you,” I say as we leave the inn. “You look very nice as well.”
He does. He’s wearing dark denim jeans, a dark gray long collared shirt rolled up his thick tattooed forearms, and spotless brown boots. I love those colors on him. They really look good with his salt and pepper hair and his brown eyes.
He’s a perfect gentleman, opening the car door for me and taking care of everything. We head to the luxurious Greene Mountain Lodge for dinner and I’m in awe as Ryland drives up to it. Nestled at the base of a beautiful mountain, it looks more like a castle than a lodge—massive log beams, stone chimneys curling smoke into the twilight, strings of soft golden lights glowing along the balconies. Behind it, the slope rises steep and green, the evening mist draping it like silk. To the left, a mirror-still lake catches the color of the sunset, all pink and gold in the perfect reflection.
“This place is unbelievable,” I whisper, my breath fogging the passenger window as we pull into the circular drive.
It’s the kind of place people fly across the country to stay in for a week and remember for a lifetime. Ski-in, ski-out, luxury everything—indoor pool, outdoor pool, spa, sauna, hot tubs steaming under the stars. I’ve seen pictures online when we were looking for a place to stay, but seeing it in person is something else entirely.
I guess this is the perk of dating an older man. You get luxury and style. Not cheap restaurants with a lack of appetizers, an abundance of coupons, and awkward standoffs when the bill comes.
I can get used to this…
I’m staring in amazement as he pulls up to the entrance. The building stretches wide across the base of the mountain, rustic and grand all at once—dark wood, perfectly carved stone, and warm light spilling from the windows.
The valet takes our car and Ryland is so smooth when he slips him a tip.
“Ready?” he asks, offering his hand as we head inside. I slide my hand into his, loving the way his hand feels so powerful and in control. My heart’s racing. I feel like I’m stepping into a fairy tale.
Inside, the lobby is pure luxurious magic. A giant stone fireplace roars in the center of the vast room, drawing your eye to the flames. Oversized leather chairs are gathered around it with happy people curled up with their wineglasses, chatting and laughing. The air smells like cedar and something chocolatey baking in the kitchen.
“I have to see this place in winter,” I say, staring at the fire. “Can you imagine coming in from the cold and sitting right there?”
Ryland smiles beside me, his hand sliding onto the small of my back. “Guess we’ll have to make that happen.”
I’m trying not to melt right there on the polished wood floors when two identical women behind the front desk glance up. They both have straight dark bobs, black-rimmed glasses, and matching name tags that readTinaandTiffany.
“I just have to use the restroom,” Ryland says. “Do you mind?”
