Page 2 of Mountain Man's Merry Grumpmas
"I rent a little cabin up the mountain, so I'm just passing through. Wanted the chance to meet these ladies in person on my way up this year." I pause and take a bite of the cake, closing my eyes when the cream cheese frosting and apple cinnamon flavors hit my tongue. "Oh my God. This is amazing!"
"Thank you." Miranda grins. "My brother Jeremy helped make it last night." She glances up as an older woman at the front door calls her name. The woman is wearing a sweatshirt that readsDP Constructionin large bold lettering over the top of, what looks like, an enormous...penis. I do a double-take, assuming I'm seeing things when Miranda waves the woman up to the counter without batting an eye.
"It was nice to meet you, Monroe. Stop by the front on your way out, and I'll pack you something sweet to take up the mountain."
"Thank you, Miranda." I thought Maple Ridge was friendly, but this place may take the cake. Pun intended. I savor another apple-cinnamon bite while Addy explains more about their town.
After a large coffee and lots of hugs goodbye, I'm driving up the circuitous path around the mountain. I look out at the gray clouded sky and wonder if I'm going to make it to the cabin before the snow starts coming down in earnest. Tiny little snowflakes fall, but nothing is sticking yet. I pat the steering wheel of my minivan, which is well past her years doing road trips, but I can't bring myself to trade her in.
"It's going to be a white Christmas this year," I say out loud, trying to ignore the pit in my stomach caused by the holiday season. I haven't enjoyed a Christmas since my mom passed away almost fourteen years ago. I shake my head, trying to rid myself of the loneliness that follows every time I think about her and all she's missed out on.
Spending Christmas alone, like the grinch I am, is the only way I want to get through this time of year. The alternative is spending it with my dad, who is remarried to Jennifer going on ten years now. We get along just fine, but I can't imagine spending the holidays with them. Jennifer has three grown kids of her own, and they come to Christmas each year with their families. They have their own holiday traditions, from what I gather via the pictures they all post online each holiday season. It would almost be like spending the holidays with strangers.
I blow out a hard breath, trying to break free from the melancholy of the season. My reception gave out a while ago, so I start to hum to myself. I glance into my backseat at the box of provisions I picked up before meeting the girls in town. The internet is truly amazing. I was able to pre-order at this adorable general store in Duhring Park, and now I'm stocked up on cookies, frozen pizza, and the ingredients for a weekend full of margaritas. Miranda also slipped me a box of some kind of treat, and pile of steamy romance books from the top shelf.
It's going to be a great weekend,I tell myself, practicing the skill of manifesting my own destiny with a positive mindset.
After another fifteen minutes, I'm somewhat excited for my weekend again. I pull into the little dirt driveway, and the tiny cabin comes into view. The door is freshly painted with a nice blue color, but otherwise, everything looks the same from a distance. When I get closer, however, my stomach drops. Smoke is coming from the chimney, and a black Lexus sits on the side where I usually park my van.
I stop near the front door, turning off the engine as I stare at the cabin and double-check the address. Yep. I'm at the right place, but nobody has ever been waiting for me.
"Are you doing turndown service these days, Mrs. Wingingham?" I muse out loud, picturing the eighty-year-old woman with a feather duster. And then I'm startled into silencewhen the front door opens, and the sexiest man on the face of the planet fills the doorway.
His blond hair is longish, like he hasn't had a haircut in months, but it's grown out in a way that suggests the last haircut he had was expensive. His bright blue eyes burn with an intensity so potent I briefly wonder if his name is now lasered into my soul. He's muscular and thick. I love a set of arms that look like they could lift my curvy ass without a problem.
What? Where the hell did that come from.
Time to stop eye-fucking the stranger, Monroe.
I shake my head, remembering to close my mouth as I get out of the van. When I approach, the man glares at me.
"Whatever it is, I don't want it."
"Excuse me?" I stop short at his abrupt tone.
"Ma'am, I'm here so I can be alone. Leave."
"Ma'am?" I bristle. I'm clearly still aMiss.Who the fuck does this guy think he is? His rudeness is the wake-up call I need to stop drooling over his sexy ass and start telling him how this is going to go.
"You leave, asshole. This ismycabin."
Chapter two
Drake
Holy shit.
I glare down at the gorgeous woman in front of me, trying desperately to keep my eyes from traveling the length of her curvy body.
"Look, I want to be alone." I cross my arms and narrow my eyes even more at the voluptuous temptress clearly sent here like some kind of Christmas miracle to force me to think about the purpose of life without a woman like her in it. Even a winter coatcan't hide curves like those. I move closer to the porch railing, hoping she can't see the bulge hardening at the front of my pants. "Go live out your mountain man fantasy with someone else."
"As if!" The woman slams her hands to her hips and glares up at me. "I'm surrounded by sexy mountain men all the time, Bucko. You're a dime a dozen where I come from." She crosses her arms, mirroring my stance and lets out an irritated huff of pure indignation.
I'm hit with an irrational jolt of jealousy. What is she doing around mountain men all the time, and why does that enrage me? Did she just call me sexy? Oh shit.
"Okay, well, move along." I know I'm being rude, but she needs to go.Now.I eye her old minivan skeptically. "There's a storm coming, so you need to get back down the mountain. And that thing looks like you need to give it time."
"Excuse me?" the woman grits out, the snowflakes already sticking to her fiery red hair like little crystals. "Listen here, Grumpystiltskin. This ismycabin. I've rented this place every Christmas for the last two years, and I put a deposit on it back in January.Youneed to leave." She glares at me, and I have to force my eyes away from her pouty, heart-shaped lips.
