Ordered By The Mountain Man: A Modern Mail-Order Bride Romance (9 page)

I
wake
with Delta already showering in her bathroom. It’s promising, her being an early riser. It is an invaluable skill here at the lodge, when guests show up at all hours, depending on planes coming from Anchorage. But damn, I feel tense as fuck, as I shower and put on a pair of jeans. Today is the first opening day since my parents died. I don’t want to mess it up. Guests will be arriving this morning, and our first fishing trip is tomorrow. With Mason being an asshole, and Delta not technically being my wife, things aren’t as organized as I hoped.

I step into the bedroom with only my jeans on, and Delta’s bathroom door is open. She watches me in her mirror.

“You look ridiculously hot without a shirt on,” she tells me.

“Yeah?” I ask. “Well, I’m all yours, honey.”

She smiles, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

“I’m glad we can talk without arguing,” I say, pulling on a pair of socks.

“Me, too.” Delta pokes her head out of her bathroom. “Do I look okay?” She’s wearing a dress that reaches her knees, but it has a low back and thin straps; she’s clearly not wearing a bra.

I could easily have her undressed within seconds. All it would take is a simple flick of the wrist, and the dress would fall to the floor.

Which sound like a fucking brilliant idea, except that we’ve gotta get to the lobby. And the truth is, after yesterday in the loft, we fucked all night back in our room. It’s like we’re addicted to one another’s bodies. And it seems like we get along best if we don’t talk—so instead of discussing the problems with our arrangement, we just came, over and over again.

So I don’t undress her; no way will I be able to stop if I start.

Instead, I tell her the truth, running my hand over my beard. “You look too hot to be working the front desk.”

She looks at me blankly, grabbing a small bottle of oil from her sink counter. Behind her I see a few dozen bottles, all lined up.

“What do you mean? Too hot?”

“Well, you look gorgeous, but all the men are going to want to sleep with you, and you’ll threaten the women.”

“Oh,” she says, nodding, a smile on her face as she dabs the oil on her neck. “I see. Well, do you have a burlap sack I can borrow?”

“I’m not saying you should wear a brown sack over your head. I’m saying you look like you could be headed to a nightclub.”

She laughs at this. “I would never wear this to a nightclub. A farmers’ market, sure. But dancing? No way.”

“You aren’t taking this seriously,” I tell her lacing my boots.

“God, Boone, you’re the one who ordered me here to be your wife. And now I’m all wrong for the part?” She turns to the mirror, not looking at me.

“You’re the one who asked what I thought,” I toss my hands in the air, annoyed with her. Fuck, I should be downstairs right now, not starting another disagreement with Delta. “You know what?” I add, unable to help myself. “The truth is, my mom wore an apron and drank tea with sugar. You’re a vodka girl who doesn’t wear a bra.”

“You need to chill out,” she says, laughing. “Boone, you’re so stressed. Come here,” she says, waving me over, not at all giving into my tension.

“What? I don’t have time to fuck you.”

She rolls her eyes. “I don’t want to fuck you right now; just let me help with the stress.”

I do as she says—because, honestly, she’s like a goddamn magnet and all I want is to be close to her.

She reaches for a bottle, and drops oil in her hand, then adds some almond oil to her palm.

“Sit on the bed,” she directs, and I do as she says. She climbs behind me, kneeling on the mattress, and begins to massage my shoulders.

“What is this?” I ask. “Some sort of witchcraft?”

“Yes. I’m not only a vegan, but I’m a witch. I went to Hogwarts. And now I’m here, casting spells on you in the form of a shoulder massage.”

“Peppermint?” I ask.

“Close. Spearmint. It helps with men who are assholes.”

“Ha.”

“Honestly, Boone. You need to chill out. I can handle myself. I did go to school for this stuff, and as long as I’m here I can help get your season started.”

My jaw tightens reflexively. I don’t like the words she uses, words that mean she plans to leave.

“Listen, Boone,” she continues, “I may not be your mom, but I’m not here to make trouble for you.”

“I know you can handle your shit,” I tell her, feeling my emotions retreat protectively. “I mean, it’s a fucking front desk, not rocket science.”

“Gee, thanks for the compliments.” She digs her thumbs into my neck, and I let out a groan. Hell, she’s working my body hard. Yesterday, on the boat, she must have been going easy on me.

“You trying to kill me, woman?”

“I’m trying to help you loosen up.”

I close my eyes, inhaling the refreshing scent wafting around us, and it seems to dissipate some of my uneasiness about this morning.

“You’re going to be fine, Boone,” she tells me quietly. “Everyone here loves you. The greeting we got when I showed up as your wife? Everyone was clapping and cheering for
you
. It’s obvious they think the world of you. You aren’t doing this alone.”

She runs her thumbs down my spine, then up my back, her hands working at the base of my neck, around my jaw. I reach for her, turning my body to face her. I pull her to me, catching her off guard, kissing her softly.

“I don’t want to fuck this up,” I admit.

“Hey,” she whispers, her forehead pressed against mine. “One day at a time. Today, we’ve got this.” She smiles, shrugging as if she knows how damn cute she is. “And worst case scenario...

“Yeah what’s that?”

“Worst case scenario, it’s a disaster, and you and I run away, up to this bedroom, lock the door, and fuck until they all leave.”

“That doesn’t sound worst-case at all,” I tell her.

“Then, at the end of the day, it’s our reward. For getting through it.”

“For getting through it together.”

She looks down, as if considering my words. But when she raises her eyes with a smile, relief floods me. Maybe the massage helped, but damn, her smile melts all the worry I’ve been carrying. “Yeah, Boone,” she tells me. “Our reward for getting through it together.”

I
expected
it to be hard, but when the first guest arrives at check-in, I realize that I’ve been preparing for this job for years.

“I see here in my notes, John, that you and your wife have stayed here several times. I hope you’ll be pleased to know you’ll be staying in room twelve again.” I hand the older gentleman a key.

He smiles warmly as he takes it. “The news about the Graysons just tore us to pieces,” he says, looking over at his wife, Janet. She nods, her frown sincere.

Reaching for my hand, she says, “Seeing someone besides Molly behind this desk just breaks my heart. Did you know her, dear?”

“No, I just ... um.” I pause, realizing that Boone and I never worked out my backstory. And the last thing I want to do is tell them I’m gonna be Boone’s wife when I plan on leaving soon. Looking at Janet and John, I swallow, looking for words that might make sense. “I met Boone after they passed.”

“Well, it’s wonderful to meet you, Delta,” Janet says.

“You, too,” I tell her with a smile. “There’s an itinerary waiting for you in your room, and lunch service is until two-thirty, so you have time to grab a bite.”

When they leave, I notice Mason watching me, drinking a beer with arms crossed.

“You need something?” I ask.

“Not a thing, honey. Looks like you got this whole thing figured out.”

“Well, it’s not so hard. But if you want to help, I can find something for you to do.” I look around my desk, knowing that a bunch of itineraries need to be updated now that guests have arrived and signed up for a few more activities.

He brushes me off, walking away as he takes a swig of beer. “Nah, you got it. Looks like Boone was right.”

Not having time to worry about a sullen Mason, I focus on my job, and greet another couple with two teenage boys—the father is excited to teach his boys to fish. And then a couple that are planning on taking a few kayaking trips. Plenty more guests file in throughout the day, and once everyone is checked in I take a break and head to the dining hall to find some food for myself.

Walking through the lodge, even covered with toxic taxidermied carcasses, I can’t help but smile. It warms my heart, seeing people so connected with each other, unplugged, looking over their itineraries as they sit on a cozy sofa or out on the deck. I notice Trey is refreshing the beverage station; men are drinking cold beers and women hold glasses of fresh iced tea. The lawn is dotted with kids of various ages running and playing. There are about one hundred guests checked in for the night, and the lodge is alive.

Grabbing a glass of water with lemon, and a plate of veggies with hummus, I notice Boone outside on the deck. I know it’s him; his sleeves are rolled up and his arms covered in the evergreen tree tattoos. I smile, thinking about the tall trunks firmly planted in the earth, and remembering how yesterday Boone told me that being grounded somewhere was a gift. My heart spreads with gratitude as I look around the lodge, the place his family created for so many to gather. He’s right: being here now does feel like a gift.

I stay planted on the outskirts of the dining hall, watching him speak enthusiastically about tomorrow’s fishing trip. He’s talking to a few men I remember checking in, three college buddies who haven’t connected in a decade, who all brought their families up here for a week.

Mason sidles up next to me, beer in hand. “So what do you think of opening day?”

“It’s so all-American. So apple pie.”

“Right? No surprise, though. My parents were wholesome through and through.”

“How they’d end up with you and Boone then?”

“Boone
is
wholesome. I mean, he won’t win Mr. Congeniality in the lower forty-eight, but he’s the guy people call in an emergency. The one people trust.”

My gaze returns to Boone.

Boone smiles slowly while he speaks with the guests; he was so stressed this morning, but he’s clearly in his comfort zone now. Whatever fear he was holding about opening day seems to have vanished. Pride sweeps through my chest, knowing I played a part in that. I did my job well. I helped and, while plenty of guests flirted with me, I’m smart enough to take it in stride, to smile sweetly, and accept the compliment without encouraging them. Boone underestimated me. He may think I’m a sex toy, but I’m more than that.

Mason takes a swig of his beer. “Word is you and Boone might not get hitched.”

“Who told you that?”

“Just heard Trey talking in the kitchen with some servers. Guess people are taking bets on if the hippy-vegan chick is cut out for life up here.”

I scowl, not liking that they’re betting against me—or for me. “I can do anything I want.”

“Damn straight, but did you tell Boone that? He likes his women to toe the line.”

“What do you know about Boone’s women?” I ask.

He shrugs. “Eh. I don’t know.” He laughs, annoyingly. “I mean, I may have a history of taking his women from under him. But that’s his issue, not mine.”

“You’ve gotten Boone’s girlfriends to cheat on him with you? That’s pretty fucked up, Mason.”

He laughs, shaking his head like this is all a joke. “I never said I was perfect.”

I look over at Boone, seeing him more clearly than I ever have before. Boone looks for the best in people—even me. He hasn’t once flat-out made fun of me for my food choices. He didn’t say yoga itself was dumb, he just said I couldn’t do it in front of everyone on the dock when they were leaving for fishing in the morning. He didn’t tell me I couldn’t wear this dress; he was just all stressed out this morning and took it out on me.

And I’m not making a bunch of excuses for him. When it comes down to it, Boone and I
are
very different. But maybe we’re also the same. Both strong-willed and determined, and looking for someone to be our best selves with.

“Fuck, you love him, don’t you?” Mason asks, shaking his head. “Hell, that asshole gets everything he wants.”

“Is that how you see it? Everything gets handed to him?” I ask, annoyed. “Because I’m pretty sure Boone has worked for everything he has. Can you say the same for yourself?”

I don’t wait for an answer; he couldn’t give me a real one, anyway. Instead, I return to the lobby, ready to do the best job I can as Boone’s future wife.

T
he week goes perfectly
. I take guests out for fishing trips, make sure the staff are squared away, that the guests are happy. It’s fucking better than I could have hoped for.

And the icing on the fucking cake is Delta. For some reason, she and I got through the awkward start and have found a pattern. Sure, it’s only been seven days, but we’re constantly fucking, constantly smiling, and finding a groove.

She’s made good suggestions about ways we could improve guest relations—simple things, even, like having a before-dinner cocktail hour, tailor it to our clientele, cigars on the porch and whisky neat. And she thought that, instead of doing yoga on the dock, she could offer a yoga class a few mornings a week for the women who stayed back at the lodge during the day.

She starts it, and after only a day the response is great. Apparently the men liked how good their wives felt, and the women felt lighter and more positive in Delta’s welcoming company.

More than one time I’ve caught myself wishing Mom were here to meet Delta. I have no doubt they’d find plenty of common ground.

The only annoyance is Mason’s bad attitude; he’s getting on my last nerve. He’s not even willing to help with the fishing trips anymore. He just drinks beer and flirts with staff—thankfully he has enough tact to avoid the guests, but damn.

He isn’t interested in getting his act together at all. And it seems like Delta being here just ticks him off more, which I don’t get. Delta being here makes everything easier.

She’s the fucking best thing that has ever happened to me.

“You ready for tomorrow?” I ask her as we step out of the shower together. We’re running a little late, because she’s just been on her knees, sucking my cock until I came all over her gorgeous tits, and then I spanked her ass and lathered her skin with soap until she was nice and clean. Our shower was a tad longer than normal.

“I’m okay. Just ... tomorrow is the big day.”

“Do you still have doubts?” I ask, kissing her neck, wrapping my arms around her from behind, not believing for a second that she could.

Delta bites her bottom lip. “We’re already running behind,” she says, raising her hands, turning to face me. There’s a smile on her face. “Let’s talk later? Okay? Like, really talk.”

I nod, feeling a surge of adrenaline. I wanted to wait until we had more time, anyway. Tonight I’m going tell her I love her, I’m going to give her my mother’s diamond ring, and I am going to properly ask her to be my wife.

“Until tonight, then.” I kiss her lips, hard, teasing her with my cock pressed against her belly.

“You’re so bad, Boone,” she laughs, pulling away.

“So bad it’s good, right?”

“Something like that.” She laughs, drying herself off.

Damn, I love this girl. “You know,” I say, “since you went down on me, I think I owe you a favor.” I toss her towel to the floor, pressing my fingers between her legs, causing her to moan instantly.

“Boone,” she murmurs. “We’re so late.”

“Fuck that,” I tell her. “You’re my woman. They can wait until your pussy is happy.”

“Where did you come from, Boone?” she asks, as I grab her ass, lifting her up. She wraps her legs around me and I carry her to our bed.

“I’ve always been here, just waiting for you.” I kneel on the floor, tugging her legs to the edge of the bed, and spreading her knees so I can lick her perfect folds. Leaving kisses on her inner thigh, I press my mouth to her clit, licking her length as she sinks lower into the bed.

“I’m here, Boone,” she sighs. “I’m here.”

And I know she is. And tonight, we’ll make promises of forever.