Ordered By The Mountain Man(33)

“That’s not it at all. I don’t want you to be me. You’ve got me all wrong. I don’t need people to be the exact same as me to be happy.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Boone. But why did Delta just run off? Because you didn’t even listen to her. You didn’t give her a chance. Because all you hear is your goddamn self.”

I don’t want to admit it, but those words hit hard. Do I want Delta to be just like me, or at least the version of a wife—of a woman—I have imagined in my head? Have I pushed her away because I was scared she was something that might possibly force me to reach outside of myself?

Sure, things with Delta have been easy since the lodge opened, but that’s because she caved on all the things that might have caused me trouble. She’s easy-going, and solid fucking gold. She never pushed back on the yoga; she just made a plan that would accommodate everyone. She never once made a fuss about all the meat Trey kept serving. Sure, I could have made it easier on her and just agreed to have Trey make some more Delta-friendly meals, but I didn’t even budge.

I could have removed the taxidermy animals from our room, but when Sally suggested it, I dismissed her like a fucking caveman. I expect Delta to bend in all the ways that convenience me, but what about her? I’ve never once considered the ways I might make things easier for my bride.

Even before she arrived, when Mason asked what I’d done to get ready for my wife, I said she was coming here to serve me, and that was that.

That isn’t a fucking marriage.

Maybe that’s the way I treat everyone. Fit in my box, or I don’t have space for you.

I look at my brother, a guy who’s clearly down on his fucking luck. A guy who’s carrying a shit-ton of guilt over my parent’s death … and what have I done to help him with that? Nothing. I just get pissed when he isn’t ready to step up and work, be the sort of man I am.

It’s pretty insulting.

“This whole time, I’ve pushed you when you weren’t ready for it,” I tell Mason.

“You think I’m weak,” he says, “and maybe I am. But damn it, I want to be strong. I want to get my shit together—but, Boone, everyone deals with their stuff differently. It’s taking me longer than it’s taking you.”

“I hear you—I do—but I’m still pissed about what happened here with Delta. I was planning on laying my heart on the line for that girl tonight, but you got to her first.”

“It wasn’t like that. You didn’t give her a chance to explain.”

“Would her talking change things?”

“Boone, you may be a fucking mountain man, but you’re a goddamned fool.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Boone.” Mason shakes his head. “Talking changes everything.”





Chapter Twenty





Delta





I’m pretty sure my ankle is twisted. I mean, I don’t think it’s broken, but a half hour after the fall my ankle is swollen and ugly and hurts like hell.

But I don’t know what hurts more: my foot, or my feelings.

Boone didn’t even give me space to explain.

He dismissed me, didn’t even consider me, wouldn’t hear me out.

He let me go, and didn’t come after me.

And now I’m stuck in a hole about eight feet deep, in the woods. Why is this even here?

Also, I could ask myself, why was I running through the woods in the first place? Obviously I’d have had to return at some point to get my stuff—my luggage and wallet and phone. It was like the idiot decisions girls make in scary movies.

I’m the idiot girl.

In, like, a thousand ways.

And that’s why I start crying.

I never meant to kiss Mason. Obviously. And seriously, Boone is his identical-freaking-twin-brother. Give me a break.

He didn’t smell like Boone, or taste like Boone, and he sure as hell didn’t kiss like Boone—but I didn’t know that until my mouth was already firmly planted on his.

A little late.

And then before I could explain that I don’t have some twin-brother fetish, Boone just pushed me away.

I’m trying to hold it together, but it’s getting late … though not dark. It never gets dark in Alaska this time of year. But, really, it feels dark down here in a freaking hole in the woods.

And all I want is to yell at Boone. I should have punched him in the gut before I ran. He deserves that. He deserves more. I was going to give him my entire heart, for reals. Forever. And then one look at a stupid mistaken lip-lock and he tosses me aside.

Such bullshit. I may have wanted a mountain man, but I do not want an asshole.

Though I’m starting to think there might not be much of a difference.