Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21549 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 108(@200wpm)___ 86(@250wpm)___ 72(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21549 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 108(@200wpm)___ 86(@250wpm)___ 72(@300wpm)
“Excuse me?” I close the door, folding my arms. “Mind telling me why you’re here?”
She spins to face me, fire in her eyes. “I answered your ad about needing a wife. Normally, I’d ignore something so absurd, but when I saw the address and realized it was right here on Devil’s Peak, well, I thought, why not?”
“I can’t believe this is happening right now.”
She rolls her eyes. “I have to say…I didn’t expect…all this.” She waves a hand around my observatory. So you work on constellations? I’ve been charting the star maps up here for weeks, it’s the best viewing spot in The Rockies.”
The pieces click into place. “The best spot in the West, actually. What are you an astrophysicist?”
“Researcher,” she corrects. “Freelance. I’ve been doing research from my brother’s cabin on the Phantom River but I couldn’t miss the chance to get a little higher up the mountain…this I did not expect though.”
“You and me both,” I grunt.
“So…” one pretty eyebrow arches with surprise, “you seem surprised to see me. You didn’t know about the mail-order-bride thing?”
“This is my brother’s idea of a prank…” I trail off, not sure what else there is to say. I haven’t had a woman here since…ever. My existence has been pretty solitary since I left the military a few years ago and that’s just the way I like it.
“I guess that means you want me to leave then?” Her gaze trails out the window to the giant snowflakes that are quickly piling up.
Zane’s joke just got a hell of a lot more complicated. “Look,” I start, “I didn’t know about the ad. If I had, I wouldn’t have—”
“Oh, save it.” She waves me off, pacing the room. “Your brother’s an ass, and you’re clearly not much better for letting him pull this. I’ve heard about the Warners–I’ve just…never met one of you in person. Nine brothers…you all have quite a reputation around these parts. I guess it’s well-deserved considering I just spent two hours driving up this damn mountain because of a childish prank.”
“Maybe you should’ve ignored the ad.”
“Maybe you should control your brother,” she shoots back, her voice razor-sharp.
I narrow my eyes, fighting the urge to snap back. She’s not wrong, but damn if her attitude doesn’t set my blood boiling—in more ways than one. My eyes take in her sweet curves and the soft round and rosy cheeks and lips a soft shade of pink that have me wondering what they’d feel like pressed against mine. I shake my head, trying to ignore the ache of my dick behind my zipper.
“You can’t stay here,” I say finally. “I don’t know what Zane told you, but I’m not looking for a... bride.”
“Good thing I’m not offering,” she shoots back. “There’s no way I’m trekking back down the mountain in the dark, though.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Fine. You can take the bed, I’ll hit the couch tonight.”
She smirks. “You’re too kind.”
The tension crackles like static, and I can’t decide if I want to throttle her or kiss her. She’s gorgeous—soft and shapely, confident, and way too young. Nineteen or twenty tops. I’m thirty-seven. Old enough to know better but telling my throbbing dick that is another thing entirely.
Chapter Two
Quinn
I wake to the soft glow of morning light streaming through the observatory windows. Ridge may not know it, but his little hideaway is a dream come true for someone like me—a haven for stargazers and lovers of the wild. I stretch, the borrowed flannel shirt I wore to bed sliding against my skin. It smells like him—wood smoke, leather, and something distinctly male.
The man himself stomps into the kitchen then, his expression as stormy as the mountain sky before a blizzard. He’s already brooding, coffee in hand, his broad shoulders tense beneath a gray thermal shirt.
“You’re still here,” he grumbles, glancing at me like I’m some unsolvable equation.
“Good morning to you, too.” I flash a smile and pour myself a cup of coffee.
“And you’re wearing one of my flannels. My favorite flannel, actually.”
“Hope you don’t mind.” I add a sugary sweetness to the last part, knowing full well he’d rather I be halfway down the mountain by now.
His scowl deepens, and I can’t help but enjoy the way he glares at me. He’s like a bear woken too early from hibernation—gruff, growly, and oddly endearing.
“You’re Quinn Stevens–I realized it last night while I was lying in bed wondering what the hell to do with you,” he states flatly, like he’s still wrapping his head around it.
I arch one eyebrow, taking in his grumpy features.
“I can’t believe Grady’s little sister answered a mail-order-bride ad.”
“Not so little anymore.” I take a sip of coffee, meeting his gaze over the rim of the mug. “I’m twenty-four, in case you’re keeping track. I just graduated from Colorado State, actually.”