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Only love can melt this mountain man’s frosty heart.

Cambrie

When my ex fails to come through on his promise of giving our son a white Christmas, I take my cousin up on his offer to spend the holidays in a tiny mountain town. The snow is beautiful, but it’s the owner of the Christmas tree farm where we’re staying who catches my eye. He’s the perfect combination of sweet and sexy, but also way too smart to get involved with this single mom.

Landon

Living alone never bothered me until the night I met Cambrie. Now the single mom with the curves is all I can think about. When a snowstorm leaves us stranded together overnight, I know she’s the one I’ve been waiting for. I need to convince her that her future is here with me. Because now that I’ve had a glimpse at forever, there’s no way I can live without her.

The mountain roads had almost gotten the best of me. I took another sip of lukewarm coffee in an effort to keep my eyes open. My son, Kelvin, mumbled in his sleep. I glanced in the rearview mirror and my heart melted at the sight of him leaning against his travel pillow. He was the reason we’d made the trip.

His dad had promised to take him to Switzerland for Christmas this year and teach him how to ski, but had cancelled at the last minute. Growing up in Florida, Kelvin had never seen snow. I couldn’t stand to see the hurt on his face when my ex bailed on him (again) so I decided this would be the year I’d finally take my cousin Slate up on his offer to spend the holidays in Northern California.

If only the weather had cooperated. The compact car I’d rented at the airport in Sacramento slipped and slid along the snowy roads. The guy said it had been outfitted with all-weather tires, but I’d been white knuckling the steering wheel since we turned off the highway.

Slate wanted us to stay at his place, but he and his wife, Patience, were going to have a full house with some of her family in town. If I’d known how bad the roads would be and how dark it got out here in the mountains, I might have reconsidered.

A small green sign stuck out of a snowbank on the side of the road, indicating one more mile until the turnoff to the Hicks Christmas Tree Farm. The owner said to stop by the main house on the way in, and he’d show me the way to the cabin. As I made the final turn off the two-lane road, I hoped he’d received my voicemail that our flight was delayed and hadn’t waited up. It was almost two in the morning, and the last thing I wanted to do was wake up his whole household in the middle of the night.

I followed the directions he’d given me and stopped at the end of a long drive. A large log cabin with a huge wraparound porch sat in front of me. It looked like it had been lifted right out of a mountain-themed North Pole. Red and white lights framed the roofline and pine trees strung with twinkle lights lined the narrow road.

I left the car running while I climbed the steps onto the porch. I’d wanted to take Kelvin somewhere he could get the full holiday experience. Based on the lights and ribbons wrapped around the porch posts and the giant wreath on the front door, I’d found the right spot. Hoping for a note with directions, I lifted the welcome mat. There was no key, no envelope—nothing to let me know what to do now that we’d finally arrived.

Standing, I faced the giant wooden door. Unless I wanted to brave the dark roads back to town to look for a motel with vacancy, or spend the night parked in front of the Hicks family homestead, I needed to knock on the door.

I curled my fingers into a loose fist and lifted my hand.

The door opened before my knuckles made contact. I blinked hard and wiped at my eyes. Either I was hallucinating from lack of sleep or the man standing in front of me was a holiday gift from Santa himself. Gray sweats hugged his hips. Except for a smattering of dark hair over his pecs, his chest was bare. My gaze drifted up over the scruff on his chin, stopping when I met his curious green eyes.

“You must be Cambrie.” He reached out, immediately drawing my attention to his hand.

Some women might notice a man’s eyes first or be a sucker for a six-pack of abs. For me, a man’s hands sealed the deal on whether I’d find him attractive. The man in the sweats had hands the size of dinner plates. Long, straight fingers curled around mine. I slid my hand into his, wishing I’d taken off my glove first so I could immerse myself in the skin-to-skin contact. 

“I’m Landon. Welcome to Rye Creek. I’d just about given up on you making it tonight.” He let go of my fingers and reached up to rub at the back of his neck.

“Sorry. Our flight from Chicago was delayed. Then I had trouble getting the rental car, and we took a wrong turn outside of Truckee.” Realizing I was rambling, I clamped my mouth shut.

“Well, you made it. That’s all that matters.” His lips curved into a warm smile that had me grinning in return. “Let me toss on some clothes, and I’ll show you to the cabin.”

“I don’t want to put you out any more than I already have or wake up the rest of your family.”

“It’s just me here, so it’s no trouble at all.” A huge St. Bernard dog came up behind him. “Sorry, just me and Rudolph. She’s lazy, but friendly. Not much of a watchdog.”

The big dog blinked bloodshot eyes, then opened her mouth in a huge yawn. She looked like I felt, though hearing Landon lived alone had definitely brightened my spirits. It shouldn’t matter, but my active imagination didn’t like fantasizing about men who were attached. I’d have to add him to my very small catalog of faces to picture when I…

“I had a fire going earlier, but when I got your message that you were running late, I let it go out. Do you want to come in for a minute while I grab a shirt?”

Whew. I must be more tired than I thought if I was at the point where I’d fantasize about fantasizing while standing in front of a stranger. Must have been the combination of killer smile and ridged abs. I pulled my mind from the gutter and gestured toward the rental car. “My son’s asleep. I’ll just wait for you out here.”

“Of course. Give me two minutes.”

I traced my steps back to the car, not sure if my cheeks were cold from the brisk wind or numb from being exposed to a man’s naked chest for the first time in years. Probably a combination of both.

As I settled behind the wheel, I turned to check on Kelvin. This trip was for him. Everything I did was for him. I was the one who’d saddled him with a deadbeat dad, and I’d spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to him. That didn’t leave any time for ogling bare-chested mountain men and wishing things might be different.

No time at all.