Ordered By The Mountain Man: A Modern Mail-Order Bride Romance by Frankie Love Read Free Book Online

week we reopen our doors, starting a new season with new owners. Mason and me.” I look at her intently. “And you.”
    The tables of people stand, clapping for us. “Congrats, Boone,” they holler, and “Look at you,” and “Let’s hear it for the happy couple!”
    Looking more closely, I see it’s Mason who’s leading the welcome. Dickhead. He knows I don’t care for attention.
    Delta is smiling congenially, and I can tell that she’s able to take this cat-call greeting in stride.
    “Thank you,” I tell everyone, waving for them to take their seats.
    “Toast, toast, toast,” Lukas, one of the guides, chants.
    I flip him off, laughing. “Listen, everyone, this is Delta,” I tell them, taking her hand in mine. It’s so soft and I don’t let go. “She arrived this afternoon—”
    “We know, we heard ya!” someone calls, and I shake my head, worried that Delta might be pissed. But she isn’t blushing; she’s laughing along.
    “She’s moving up here from Portland, Oregon. And she could use some space to acclimate to the lodge, understood? If you could all do your best to help her if she has any questions, that would be great.”
    “When’s the wedding?” someone asks.
    “Pastor Vince will be here tomorrow to marry us.” I squeeze her hand, wanting her to know I’m in this with her. “Delta has a degree in hotel services, and will be a great addition to our team here at Grayson Lodge.”
    Everyone claps for us and I lead her to a table, where Mason is sitting with other guides.
    “Evening, Delta,” Mason says, kissing her cheek as she sits beside him. “Look at you; you’re glowing.”
    I narrow my eyes at Mason, knowing he has a way with women—a way with getting them into his bed. He had no idea my bride was going to be so gorgeous, but he doesn’t get any claim on her. She’s mine.
    I love the bastard, but he doesn’t exactly have a good track record. He tends to lead women to his bed and then cheat on them, or break their hearts. Hell, half the girls who are here as summer kayak guides have already been screwed by him—literally and figuratively.
    “Hello, Mason.” Delta smiles, not blushing or giggling. She’s hot enough that I don’t imagine any man makes her sputter, the way so many other girls do around my brother.
    I like that Delta is her own person. That she says it like it is. And, so what, she thinks taxidermy is barbaric—that’s a small part of my life. Marriage is about compromise.
    The food is passed around the table, and I watch as Delta shakes her head at the twice-baked potatoes and the Caesar salad. She passes on the grilled salmon, cringes when rabbit goulash is offered. Trey comes around with a platter of freshly carved venison steaks, and I watch Delta grimace as if in literal pain when he offers her the best piece, a nice medium-rare slice.
    “No, thanks,” she says, looking slightly yellow.
    “Everything okay?” I ask, watching her across the table.
    “I’m fine. Just. You know. Um.”
    “What?” Mason asks, smiling. “What are you, a vegetarian or something?”
    My brother and I listened to our father moan about vegetarians our entire childhood. Once, this woman came to stay at the hotel, and she refused to eat anything but these granola bars she’d packed, because the food was too “gamey.” We thought it was hilarious considering it was, in fact, all game.
    Like, that is the entire fucking point of coming to this lodge.
    “I’m actually vegan,” she says. “And normally I wouldn’t be embarrassed to admit that ... but I really feel like I’m in the minority here.” She looks at the six women, here as guides, who are all digging into their plates of food.
    As they should. Trey is fucking amazing at his job; everything he prepares is four-star quality, and our employees get the perk of living with a chef and not some podunk line cook.
    How is my wife-to-be a fucking vegan? Not that I fucking care, but she’s gonna need to get used to a