Page 1 of Christmas With The Broken Mountain Man
CHAPTER ONE
MASON
Icrumple the mailed confirmation in my fist and slam my laptop shut to hide duplicate email. Two weeks before Christmas, and my meddling sister thinks signing me up for a mail-order bride service is appropriate. Sealed, Signed, Delivered. Even the name sounds like a bad joke.
"We just want you to be happy, Mason," Kelsie had said when I confronted her last night. "You spend all your time fixing everyone else. When are you going to let someone fix you?"
I don't need fixing. I need my family to stop treating me like some broken toy they need to repair.
The winter wind howls outside my cabin, rattling the windows. Perfect weather to match my mood. I grab my coffee and move to my home office, ready to cancel this ridiculous matchmaking subscription before anyone gets notified.
My phone buzzes. Jax, right on cue.
"Tell me you're not actually going through with this," I say instead of hello.
"Good morning to you too, sunshine." Jax's deep laugh rumbles through the speaker. "Listen, before you cancel?—”
"I'm canceling. This conversation is just a courtesy."
"Mason." His tone shifts, serious now. "You haven't dated since Sarah left. Three years of throwing yourself into work isn't healthy."
"Says the man who needed his fiancée to literally fall into his wilderness program before he'd consider dating again."
"Exactly my point. Sometimes the universe has better plans than we do."
I rub my temples. "I don't need the universe or my sister playing matchmaker. I'm a therapist, for Christ's sake. I know my own mind."
"Do you? Because from where I'm standing, you're hiding from life in that cabin."
"I work with trauma patients daily. That's hardly hiding."
"You help everyone else deal with their shit while ignoring your own. Classic therapist move."
I've had enough armchair psychology for one morning. "I'm hanging up now. And canceling this mail-order bride nonsense."
"Just promise me you'll at least meet her before?—”
"Goodbye, Jax."
I end the call, tossing my phone onto the couch. My sister means well, but she doesn't understand. I spend my days piecing together shattered minds and broken hearts. The last thing I need is to invite someone else's chaos into my carefully ordered life.
Sarah taught me that lesson the hard way. Two years building a life together, then gone without warning, leaving nothing but a note: I can't be with someone who helps everyone but me.
The irony wasn't lost on me. Whisper Vale's most sought-after trauma specialist couldn't even save his own relationship.
I log into my email, hunting for the cancellation link, when a notification pops up. From Sealed, Signed, Delivered.
Your match is en route! Destiny Brooks will arrive at your residence today at approximately 2 PM.
What the actual fuck? Today? My heart rate spikes as I scramble to find a contact number. This can't be happening.
Three unanswered calls and two angry emails later, I give up. Their customer service is apparently as reliable as their business model is ethical. I glance at the clock: 1:30 PM.
Half an hour to prepare for a woman I never agreed to meet, who's expecting a relationship I have no intention of pursuing. Perfect.
I clean up the cabin in a frenzy, not because I plan to let her stay, but because I'm not a complete asshole. She'll be disappointed enough when I explain the situation without walking into a mess.
At exactly 2:03, a knock sounds at my door. Three soft raps that somehow manage to be both hesitant and determined. I take a deep breath, rehearsing my "I'm sorry but my sister made a mistake" speech one last time.
