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)
“Well—aren’t you asking for trouble. I hate to break it to you but twenty-four is still a decade too young to be mixed up with this family.”
I set the mug down, leaning against the counter. “Don’t worry, Ridge. I’m not looking to ‘mix myself up’ with anyone. I’m here for the stars, not you.”
His jaw ticks, but he doesn’t bite. I hide my smirk behind another sip of coffee. Winding him up might just become my new favorite pastime.
“What did he say when you told him about this ridiculous little plan of yours?” He finally replies.
“He doesn’t know. He thinks I’m staying with a friend.”
Ridge’s eyes widen with surprise. “Well, shit just got a helluva lot more complicated. If he knew you were here with me–offering to be my bride–he’d skin us both alive.”
I laugh. “Listen, mountain man, I’ll get out of your hair just as soon as it’s safe. My brother will never be the wiser that this happened–as long as you can keep your mouth shut, that is.” My eyes land out the window to the snowdrifts building along the narrow driveway.
Ridge huffs, rinsing his coffee mug in the sink and then stalking out of the kitchen like an angry bear.
By noon, I’ve decided. Devil’s Peak is perfect for my research. The altitude, the clear skies, the lack of light pollution—it’s everything I’ve been searching for. Of course, Ridge is less than thrilled when I mention I’d like to stay a few more days for the sake of my research.
“This isn’t a bed-and-breakfast,” he grunts as I unpack my own small telescope. “And I’m not a tour guide.”
“Noted.” I set my telescope and notebook on the desk in the corner, deliberately ignoring his tone. “But don’t worry, I won’t be in your way. I’m here for the constellations. And maybe some snowboarding,” I add with a cheeky grin, glancing over my shoulder. “Devil’s Peak has some of the best hills in Colorado.”
His brows knit together, and for a moment, I think I see a flicker of something other than annoyance in his eyes. Curiosity? Interest? Whatever it is, he shoves it aside with a shake of his head.
“Fine. Just stay out of trouble.”
“No promises.” I grin back at my new roommate.
An hour later I’m headed to the lodge, eager to see if the slopes live up to their reputation. I’ve been anxious to visit Devil’s Peak Lodge since Grady moved to Devil’s Peak a year ago but the timing never lined up. He doesn’t even like outdoor sports, but I live for them, escaping campus with my friends on the weekends to snowboard the fresh powder that The Rockies are known for. When I came to Devil’s Peak to stay with Grady, I only planned on staying a few weeks but that’s been six weeks ago now. Grady was happy to have me because he works all day in the woods as a lumberjack and his old sheepdog, Shep, was diagnosed with arthritis a few months ago and now has to stay at home all day while Grady works. I figured I could take care of Shep and Grady’s cabin all day and stargaze at night, but I quickly realized that my brother isn’t used to living with anyone and I couldn’t shake the sense that as much as he wanted me there–he was struggling with having someone else in his home all the time. That’s why, when I flipped through Grady’s copy of Mountain Living Magazine and saw the ad for a mail-order-bride on Devil’s Peak, I thought it’d be worth a shot. I love this mountain, but living with my brother had me feeling like an imposition even on the best of days. Also, if my thirty-eight-year-old unmarried brother has any chance of having a love life, he can’t have his sister as a roommate.
I suck in a quick breath when The Devil’s Peak Lodge comes into view. The air is crisp, the snow glistening under a sun so bright it makes my goggles necessary even before I hit the trails. I step into the rental shop, only to find Ridge leaning against the counter, chatting with a guy who looks like his twin—if his twin had a perpetual smirk and none of Ridge’s surliness.
“Quinn,” Ridge says, straightening when he sees me. His tone is neutral, but his eyes narrow slightly, like he’s trying to figure out why I’m here.
“Ridge,” I reply, matching his tone as I grab a snowboard from the rack. “Didn’t know you worked here.”
“I don’t. But I teach.” He glances at the guy next to him. “This is Slate, my brother.”
“Ah, another Warner brother.” I offer a smile, but Slate’s already grinning like he’s in on some inside joke.
“You must be the infamous mail-order bride,” Slate says, his tone dripping with amusement. Ridge shoots him a warning look, but Slate just laughs. “Don’t worry, big bro. She’s too pretty for you, anyway.”