Part One
Bonding Off The Trail
1
Noah
“When he gets here, I’m gonna need you to get in the fucking truck,” Mom mutters through clenched teeth.
I dig my heels into the ground as she tugs, as subtle as she can, on my arm.
She’s lucky my eyes are shielded by my sunglasses, or else she would be getting a hell of a glare right now. I can think of a million things I’d rather be doing right now. The least she can do is let me take my sweet time.
“I still don’t understand why I’m being dragged into this. Marry or don’t marry the schmuck. I give zero fucks,” I mumble.
Brad will be here any minute to pick me up, and if there’s even a slight chance of getting out of this, I’m taking it.
Mom groans, dropping her head back and rolling her eyes. “Goddammit, Noah. Noteverythingis about you.”
“Considering he doesn’t want to get hitched until he meets me, it kind of sounds like itisabout me,” I bite back.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it’s a pretty great way to stall. I bet he doesn’t want to go through with it and he’s using my ass as a scapegoat.
“Brad is…traditional,okay? He’s a decent man. It’s been a while since I’ve had one of those in my life,” she breathes out heavily.
That makes me bite my tongue. I guess she’s not wrong abouteverything.
Her demeanor softens as she lifts my sunglasses off the bridge of my nose and uses them to push my hair back from my face.
“Oneweekend. That’s it. Do this for me and it’ll be the last thing I ever ask of you,” she pleads softly. Her eyes search mine, and for a minute, it almost feels like she’s telling the truth.
Maybe she’ll actually stay out of my life for good after this. I’ve got plans to hop on a plane and disappear to Hawaii for the rest of the year, and it’d be really nice not to get a single call from her while I’m gone.
“Fine.” I shuffle my duffel bag higher up on my shoulder. “I mean, whatever. I’m already packed anyway.”
She squeals, wrapping her arms around my neck. My whole body tenses as she embraces me.
“That’s my baby,” she coos.
I hate when she calls me that.
Suddenly, a low rumble of a heavy vehicle fills the driveway. Breaking out of her hold, I watch a big black GMC slowly make its way, crunching up the gravel.
I let out a heavy breath, already drained. It’s taking everything inside me to actually go through with this.
After all, having never met him before, this guy is a complete stranger to me. Since I lease my own place in the city, I know close to nothing about him. Aside from their sudden engagement being announced via a painfully high-pitched voicemail, I only know the important things—like how he’s well-off, a “really nice guy,” andthrilledto meet me.
Huh.My mother really set me up to get murdered in a forest.
So, no. I’m not looking forward to this “bonding” camping trip. Frankly, if I were Brad, I would’ve thought I hit a goldmine to propose to a divorcee with a twenty-two-year-old son who wantednothingto do with either of them.
But, for some goddamn reason unknown, meeting me is a non-negotiable to him. What a crock of shit.
I reach into the pockets of my jeans and take out my Marlboros. Popping one in, I watch from afar as Brad makes his way out of the front seat. Mom goes running down our porch, as happy as can be, as she basically gallops into his arms.
First impressions? We have nothing in common, which isfucking fantastic.He looks like a typicalman’s man: plaid button-up, short dark brown hair, and his trimmed beard. He flashes his deep blue eyes at me over her shoulder, and my jaw tenses before I take a long drag. Okay, sure. Mom did well in the looks department, but something tells me the interesting traits stop there. I bet he’s boring as all hell.
“How’s my girl doing?” I hear him ask, as he cups her cheeks. To my disappointment, he’s tallandmuscular. I swear, if he tries to pull the macho man act, I’ll have to pull him down a peg. Show him who therealboss is.
