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Nearly getting killed in a mudslide only reminds me why I hate the mountains. I'm uninjured, but my car is wrecked, there’s no way I can get into town, and of course there's no reception here.
I'm screwed.
Maybe it's karma for putting this trip off. I haven't been able to bring myself to visit since Pa's funeral.
And then there are the painful memories that still haunt me of my first love…and first heartbreak.
The summer I turned eighteen, I exchanged letters with a free-spirited, long-haired boy who lived down the road from my father. We hung out all day and wrote each other romantic letters all night. It was the best time of my life.
But now they're both gone, and I'm all alone.
Literally. This mountain feels deserted. Like I'm the only living soul on it.
And then, just as I'm about to give up all hope, a pickup truck pulls up. A man steps out.
Not just any man, though… Pure. Mountain man. Perfection.
Big muscles, a thick beard just begging to be touched, and an intense stare that's making me rethink my dislike of the mountains.
Harrick offers me a place to stay, and despite being a total stranger, there's something familiar about him that makes me feel like I can trust him. Also, what other choice have I got?
He takes me back to his cabin. Turns out, he's not much of a talker. I can work with that.
We hook up. I can definitely work with that.
I almost forget that I'm here to sell my father's house and finally move on from the guy who left me brokenhearted all those years ago.
And then I find a letter in Harrick's house—one of the letters I wrote all those years ago—and everything changes.
