Mountain Man’s Mail Order Temptress (Wildwood Valley Brides #6)

Chapter 1

TREY

“ T hat should do it,” I said to an empty parking lot as I stared across it, looking at the front of the inn where I’d spent most of my youth.

Wildwood Valley Inn , the big sign next to me read, but the D was so faded, it actually read Wildwoo instead of Wildwood . I’d repaint it, but that was part of the remodel I was overseeing for the next few months.

The low hum of a car approaching dragged my attention away from the building in front of me. I turned, expecting to see a vehicle exiting the ramp and going straight into town, but instead, it was heading across the main road toward the entrance to the inn parking lot.

And that was exactly where I was standing.

“Holy fuck!” I shouted, like that was some sort of warning.

I stepped out of the way just in time, narrowly avoiding being leveled by a white Chevy sedan. My breath caught at the sight of a passenger in the back seat.

It was her. The reason I was out here, clearing away brush and trimming shrubs that were going to be replaced soon as part of the remodel.

I’d been working off some nervous energy, but if I were honest, I’d admit that I was hanging around the inn in the first place solely to meet her before she headed off to meet her future husband.

I expected the vehicle to keep going to the inn’s front door.

I also expected the driver to pop the trunk, hop out, and grab the woman’s suitcase.

Instead, the vehicle abruptly stopped halfway across the parking lot.

Seconds later, the trunk popped up, but the only door that opened was on the back passenger side.

I stood frozen in place as a ballet-flat-covered foot emerged, followed by an ankle-length, flowy skirt. When she stepped out, I started walking, unable to take my eyes off her.

She headed to the trunk without even glancing in my direction and grabbed a light-pinkish hard-top suitcase, setting it on the ground before shutting the trunk.

The car immediately started moving, doing a wide U-turn across multiple empty parking spaces, then curving around me on its way toward the exit.

“Dude, slow down!” I called out.

It was doubtful he could even hear me. If he could, it didn’t faze him in the slightest. The baseball-cap-wearing driver of the car didn’t slow down.

I let him blow past me, though, immediately losing interest in what the driver was doing.

My eyes were on the beauty standing a good twenty feet from me.

“Wow,” she said.

That was it. That one word. What did it mean? Was she talking about the town? The inn? The horrible driver?

She was staring directly at me. In fact, even though she had sunglasses on, I swore I could feel her gaze scanning the length of me.

“Hi.” I continued toward her. At the very least, I’d help her take her luggage in.

“You’re not Blade,” she said.

Damn, I wish I could see those eyes. Was she disappointed that I wasn’t the man she’d come here to marry?

She had no idea I was the man she’d been talking to for the past six weeks.

We’d shared our past and what we wanted for our future in hours of text messages.

And now she was standing in front of me, like she’d stepped straight out of my fantasies.

I hadn’t even had time to clean up or mentally prepare—not that anything could’ve prepared me for this. For her. She was everything I imagined and more, standing there with one hand on the handle of her suitcase and the other shielding her eyes from the sun, even though she wore sunglasses.

She looked around slowly, her brows drawn, like she wasn’t quite sure if she was in the right place. “Wow,” she said again, a little breathless this time.

I took a slow step toward her. “You must be Lauryn.”

She laughed—a soft, slightly confused sound. “What gave me away?”

I shrugged. “Could be the suitcase. Could be the fact that you’re the only person who gets dropped off in the middle of nowhere with luggage that color and still looks like you’re in a tourism commercial.”

Her lips curved. “Are you mocking me or flirting with me?”

God, her voice. It was familiar and brand-new all at once.

I’d read every word she’d written—dozens of messages, little one-liners and full paragraphs that hinted at her soft heart and sharp sense of humor—but hearing her speak in real life?

It hit different. It settled in my chest like she’d always belonged there.

“Why not both?” I said and tipped my head toward the inn. “Your mountain man’s inside. Big guy. Grunts a lot. You’ll know him when you see him.”

She blinked. “Wait, what?”

Her grip tightened on the handle of her suitcase, and I immediately felt like a jackass.

That wide-eyed moment of hesitation—damn, it hit me harder than I expected.

She was nervous, hopeful, and probably wondering if she’d made the biggest mistake of her life getting on that plane.

And here I was, messing with her like she was just another tourist.

“I’m kidding,” I said quickly, stepping forward and reaching for her suitcase like it was the most natural thing in the world. “I’m Blade.”

The name slid off my tongue before I could stop it. Not my name—not technically. But the name of the guy she’d been writing to. The one she’d fallen for.

And the moment she heard it, her whole face lit up. That smile. It gutted me. Straight through the ribs.

She let out a breath like she’d been holding it since she stepped off the bus. “Oh, thank God. I thought for a second I was about to meet some kind of murder-y caveman.

I chuckled, though it came out a little rough. “That’s plan B.”

She laughed again, and this time, it hit deep. Low in my gut, twisting with guilt and something warm I didn’t want to name yet.

I led her suitcase toward the front steps, glancing sideways to sneak a better look at her. She was even prettier up close—light freckles on her nose, a single curl slipping from her bun, lips that looked like they were made for smiling or—God help me—kissing.

“You look different from your pictures,” she said.

I stiffened slightly but forced a grin. “Better or worse?”

Her mouth quirked. “Different.”

“I’ll take that as a win.”

“You should. You’re…more relaxed-looking. I pictured someone broodier.”

I gave her a sideways glance. “You wanted broody?”

“No,” she said. “I just thought that’s what I was getting. Your messages were…intense.”

That stung. Not because it was wrong, but because those messages were me. The real me. The parts I didn’t show when I was bantering or bullshitting. When I talked to her—or typed to her, to be more exact—I dropped the act. I hadn’t realized until just now how much of myself I’d actually given away.

I paused halfway up the steps, facing her. “Do I seem less intense now?”

She studied me, then shook her head. “No. Just different in person, but in a good way.”

I swallowed hard and turned toward the door. I didn’t trust myself to respond.

“Blade,” she said behind me, her voice quieter now. “You okay?”

I turned back, managing a lopsided smile. “Yeah. Just—” I scratched the back of my neck. “Been a long morning. You kind of caught me off guard, showing up early. I thought I had a little more time to clean up.”

Her gaze dropped to my chest. I realized belatedly that I was still in my cutoff work shirt, streaked with sawdust and sweat, and I probably looked like I’d wrestled a pine tree. “Well, if it helps, you’re not what I expected, but I’m not disappointed.”

God. She had no idea what that did to me.

I almost told her the truth right then. I opened my mouth, heart racing, guilt punching me straight in the gut. But then she smiled again, and I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t. Not yet.

I wanted another minute. Just one more minute of her looking at me like I was the guy she’d fallen for. The guy who made her laugh. The one she trusted. The guy who hadn’t lied.

So I kept walking, carrying her suitcase toward the inn like I had every right in the world. And I let her follow me.