Page 26 of Undone By The Mountain Daddies

I set the kettle on the stove and search for a coffee mug. Wind whistles outside and the walls of the cabin keep creaking. They sound like they just might collapse. I could totally be in a life-threatening situation right now, yet my heart beats steadily and I’m completely unfazed.

I’ve pretended to die a couple of times as an actress over the years. Strangely enough, I freaked out more in those made-up scenarios than I am right now. It’s probably because I don’t have a director analyzing my every move. Dying on command is stressful when everyone on set is counting on you to get it right. Hollywood directors are incredibly hard to please, unless, of course, you take your clothes off.

The kettle whistles, reaching the boiling point.

The coffee is instant, and that definitely isn’t my first choice, but I don’t seem to have any other options.

I sit on the couch that’s seen better days and face the window, taking a sip of the coffee.

I get hit with another wave of nostalgia.

“Here,” says Grammy, handing me a steaming cup of coffee. “We ran out of tea last night, but this should keep you nice and warm. Be careful not to spill it. It’s really hot.”

I take the mug of coffee from her hands and blow on it before taking a sip. “I don’t understand. Everybody else at school had electricity today.”

“I know, dear,” says Grammy. “But we live right on the edge of town where the power lines aren’t as strong. Everything will be back to normal soon. Drink up. You might feel better after you get some coffee in your system. Stay here, baby. I’ll fetch you a blanket.”

I stare through the window, watching snow clouds roll through the sky. It’s quite peaceful until I feel something crawl into my lap.

A spider.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I scream, coffee spilling everywhere as I run around the room in circles, trying to flick the thing off my thigh.

I feel like crying. These are the only pajama pants I brought with me, and now they’re stained brown. Same as this ugly carpet.

I soak my pants in the kitchen sink and jump in the shower, which, of course, only runs hot for two minutes before turning to ice.

I grab the towel Eli left and wrap myself up in it. My Ugg robe would be so nice right now. So would some heat. I’ve got the thermostat turned up to 75, but there’s no way it’s even close to that right now in here.

My only option is to crawl back into bed for the remainder of the day and catch up on sleep. That’s why I came to the mountains in the first place, and now I’m finally alone with nothing to do.

I check the time on my phone and freak out when I see that it’s almost 9:30 AM. The meeting with the costume designer was supposed to start thirty minutes ago. The guy will be pissed.

I navigate to the Wi-Fi settings on my phone. I stand up, stick my phone in the air, and manage to acquire one signal bar—enough to fill Jules in on the latest.

Me: I’m stuck at the top of a mountain waiting out the storm. Be in touch soon.

She’ll know I got harassed at the retreat if she’s checked her social media since yesterday. As an agent, Jules rarely misses a thing.

I lie back down and throw my head back onto the pillow, but it sinks straight through to the mattress. Zero support, and the mattress isn’t much better. I feel like I’m lying on a piece of cardboard.

Still, it’s much better than being stranded in the mountain resort, surrounded by the press—though if I’d stayed down there, I probably wouldn’t be in this emergency weather situation.

I try to check social media, but the Wi-Fi connection is too weak for anything to refresh.

Dropping the phone, I let out a long sigh.

The second I shut my eyes, I see the men lined up in front of me again. Eli is something to marvel at. Those big brown eyes alone will make any woman fall to her knees. And don’t even get me started on his cooking. I wouldn’t say no if he ever wanted to run his hands over me like he was doing to the bread last night.

Based on first impressions, Knox is a lot more aggressive than Eli. If looks could kill, I wouldn’t be alive and fantasizing about all of them right now.

Clearly, Knox doesn’t want to speak about his past, and I’m pretty sure I know why. It’s not hard to figure out that he killed someone. He’s probably living up here because it’s the only place he won’t get caught. I’m guessing those huge hands could do some real damage. One blow to the head would be more than enough to knock you out for good.

Adrenaline courses through me when I remember how close our faces were last night. I can already tell he’s super unpredictable, keeping me on edge, trying to figure out what he’s going to do next.

At this point, I’d take unpredictability over whatever Hollywood has to offer, and that includes Holden fucking Gray and his smug smile.

Compared to these three guys, Holden is boring and far too predictable. My heart still twangs that all-too-familiar way when I think about him too much, so I shove him out of my head and think about Cash instead.