Page 1 of Married to Her Yeti
CHAPTER ONE
The perfect distraction from a broken heart: a handful of screws, a power drill, and shiny new hardware.
Nima aligned the stainless-steel cabinet handle with his pre-drilled holes and drove in a fastener. He did the same on the other side before tugging the door open. It let out an ear-splitting creak. That needed fixing.
He closed it and stepped back to admire the last of his two and a half months of work. The cabinets and shiny handles looked great, but he was proudest of his painstaking mosaic tile creation on the bathroom walls and floor.Not bad for a self-taught yeti.
However, with his project nearly complete, and his ex, Mari, living a few miles away, Nima was onlyhalf-focused on his task that afternoon. When he’d taken this job in Wildwood, Alaska, the hometown he hadn’t set foot in for ten years, he’d vowed to reconcile with her and end a decade of silence between them.
But for weeks Nima found excuses. Work started early. He had more work than expected. Wasn’t it better to finish his job before focusing on his personal life?
His true reason for delay? He feared Mari’s rejection. If he didn’t reach out to her, he could hold on to the hope that they could be friends again. But if she wasn’t interested in reconciliation, or worse, told him never to speak to her again, he’d be crushed. He’d lose that ember of hope—forever.
As if he’d disappointed the universe with his delay tactics, the house shook with another earthquake. Nima’s grip tightened on his drill. The ground should be the one thing in his life that was solid.Fucking tremors.They’d only become more frequent in the weeks he’d been in Wildwood.
A voice boomed from downstairs distracting him from his tools, which continued to rattle on the counter. “Nima?”
Nima backed up to lean out the bathroom doorway—which still needed an actual door—andhollered across the adjoining bedroom to the stairwell. “I’m up here.”
Tseten, a friend and fellow yeti, had texted earlier that he’d swing by with their human friend Helen. A moment later, the two ducked through the plastic sheeting hung outside the bedroom to keep construction dust from traveling to other parts of the house.
A flutter of nerves passed through Nima as he waved his friends toward the remodeled bathroom. “What do you think?”
Tseten had seen Nima’s work at various stages over the last few weeks, but Helen hadn’t. When her eyes widened in appreciation, a sense of satisfaction flowed through Nima. Of course, the person he really wanted to impress was Mari, but she’d never see this work.
Helen applauded him as she walked along a rainbow of broken tiles forming a stream with spawning salmon. “Nima, your work is incredible. Bravo. This belongs in an art museum, not on a bathroom floor.”
He humbly fought a pleased smile. “Well, itison the wall too,” he pointed out. Behind him, the tile flowed upward in a spectrum of green creek-sidefoliage that led into a riot of pink fireweed and purple lupine blossoms.
“Whatever the Blackwoods are paying you, it’s not enough,” she said.
“Nah, the pay is fair,” he countered. One of Helen’s coworkers, another attorney at the yeti-friendly Creer and Associates, had hired him. “They provided me with a generous budget, let me live here since they’re out of town, and gave me access to their pantry and freezer.”
Tseten gestured to the lavender lupine petals. “These are new. They’re Mari’s favorite, you know.” He ran a blue finger over the artwork. “She’d love this.”
Shoulder muscles bunching, Nima dragged a hand over the tight cords on the back of his neck. “They are her favorite,” he agreed, trying to keep his tone light while he ignored what looked like a scrutinizing gaze from Helen.
They weren’t the first tiled lupines he’d created. Every time he plied his craft, he thought only of Mari, the woman he couldn’t get over. She was his first love, and as the years rolled by, he’d come to realize she might be his only love.
“Helen is meeting with Mari today to finalize the purchase of Wildwood Bakery,”Tseten added.
“I am,” Helen confirmed as her phone rang. “I’m thrilled for her,” she added before glancing at her screen and then back at them, a look of apology on her face. “Excuse me. I need to take this.”
As Helen stepped into the bedroom, Tseten lowered his voice and said, “None of us knows what happened between you and Mari all those years ago, but neither of you has been the same since. I hate to see you both so unhappy.”
“I’m not unhappy,” Nima countered as he lined up another screw. It was partially true. He worked as a wildland firefighter in summer, providing critical services—a hard but satisfying job. And he’d earned an excellent reputation in the yeti-friendly construction circles.
“Mari must be happy too. She’sbuyinga bakery, for crying out loud.” Nima couldn’t help his proud grin. Mari had dreamed of owning Wildwood Bakery since they were kids. “Is she celebrating tonight?”
As soon as he asked, images of their road trip ten years ago, the one time he’d been out of Alaska, flooded his mind. They’d traveled by truck through Canada and into the States, Nima crossing overland through the forest at international borders. It had been exhilarating and exciting. They’d been happy and in love,exploring back roads at night and each other during the day. The memories were all good—until their last night together at Burning Man in Nevada.
Tseten shrugged. “Nah, she said she wanted a quiet movie night tonight. She’s planning a grand reopening party in a few weeks. I’ll keep you posted on the date.”
Even if Nima found the courage to speak with Mari in the next day or two before he left town again, he couldn’t imagine attending a party in her honor. He wanted her to be happy, to fully enjoy herself, and to be proud of her accomplishments. His presence wouldn’t allow that. But he shrugged, turning back to the last cabinet handle. “Doubt I’ll make it. But I know you’ll fill me in afterwards.”
Tseten was the best source of all yeti gossip. “Of course. Don’t sound ungrateful. You’ll pore over any pictures I send you.”
Guilty. Nima would love them. Not that he’d ever admit it to Tseten.
