All I wanted was the perfect Christmas tree. Then I met the grump guarding it.
There are a few things I’ve learned since becoming mayor of Lone Mountain.
Never schedule a town meeting during bingo.
Never argue with the women who run the bake sales.
And always confirm which tree you’re allowed to cut down before you slap an official town marker on it.
That last lesson is new.
In my defense, I was given poor directions. And the six-foot-something mountain man glaring at me did promise the town a tree.
Just not that tree.
Oops.
Now I owe the growly, broad-shouldered recluse an apology, which is how I end up on his doorstep carrying Christmas cookies. Fresh from the bakery in town, because I do not bake.
Well, I don’t bake very well.
I’m back the next day because the replacement tree he picked is absolutely not good enough for my town square.
Suddenly, we’re trekking through snow-dusted evergreens together, and I’m trying very hard not to notice how good he looks in flannel.
And now I have a much bigger problem.
I like him. A lot.
Arguing over potential trees turns into flirting. Flirting turns into kissing.
Then the day comes to harvest our finally-approved tree—and a snowstorm traps me in his cabin.
I’m wearing his clothes, eating his food, hogging his fire, and trying very hard not to stare at the grumpy mountain man who somehow looks even better indoors.
There’s nowhere to go. No reason left to pretend.
I went up the mountain looking for the perfect Christmas tree. I might have found the mountain man I want under my Christmas tree instead.
Genre: Romance
There are a few things I’ve learned since becoming mayor of Lone Mountain.
Never schedule a town meeting during bingo.
Never argue with the women who run the bake sales.
And always confirm which tree you’re allowed to cut down before you slap an official town marker on it.
That last lesson is new.
In my defense, I was given poor directions. And the six-foot-something mountain man glaring at me did promise the town a tree.
Just not that tree.
Oops.
Now I owe the growly, broad-shouldered recluse an apology, which is how I end up on his doorstep carrying Christmas cookies. Fresh from the bakery in town, because I do not bake.
Well, I don’t bake very well.
I’m back the next day because the replacement tree he picked is absolutely not good enough for my town square.
Suddenly, we’re trekking through snow-dusted evergreens together, and I’m trying very hard not to notice how good he looks in flannel.
And now I have a much bigger problem.
I like him. A lot.
Arguing over potential trees turns into flirting. Flirting turns into kissing.
Then the day comes to harvest our finally-approved tree—and a snowstorm traps me in his cabin.
I’m wearing his clothes, eating his food, hogging his fire, and trying very hard not to stare at the grumpy mountain man who somehow looks even better indoors.
There’s nowhere to go. No reason left to pretend.
I went up the mountain looking for the perfect Christmas tree. I might have found the mountain man I want under my Christmas tree instead.
Genre: Romance