Chapter 1

Thursday 6.12pm

Ryder

I’m sitting in front of the fire in my cabin about to tuck into a piece of moose I caught last fall when my phone starts to vibrate.

With a scowl, I dig into my pocket and regret agreeing to carry a phone just to make my little sister feel better about me living off-grid. “What is it? I’m about to eat my dinner.”

Cindy’s voice sounds strained. “Sorry to interrupt you, but I have a problem.”

I sit up a little straighter and drop my fork. “What kind of a problem?”

She sighs wearily. “Remember that tumble I took last week?”

I frown down at my mashed potato now going cold. “When you should have gone into town and got it X-rayed like I told you to?”

She snorts. “I went to the clinic. You were right, it’s broken.”

I shake my head and don’t even bother with I told you so’s. I’ve seen enough injuries in my time to know what a broken bone looks like. And since she’s calling me, I can only guess there’s something she can’t find anyone else to do.

I try to keep the impatience from my voice. “I told you I’m not going anywhere near the retreat. Whatever it is that needs fixing, find someone else.”

She takes a breath before replying. “Nothing needs fixing. And you wouldn’t be at the retreat. I just need you to go pick up a guest.”

The laugh escapes immediately. “You expect me to drive three hours to go pick up one of your crazy chicks?”

At the heavy sigh, I know she expected resistance and is likely prepared for it.

Since my baby sister is the only family I still talk to, I make a concession and push the speaker button so I can eat my food.

“I know you hate the guests and the retreat, and pretty much everyone in the world, but this isn’t just any guest. She’s an old friend and she happens to be a well-respected hotel reviewer.”

I smother a retort and slice into my steak. “So?”

“So, Millie sounded terrible. And this is a good thing. She’s an influencer. A good review from her could mean reaching a lot more women.”

I push a mouthful of steak into my mouth and look out the window at the snow starting to fall again. “What the fuck is an influencer?”

She chokes on a laugh. “I forgot who I was talking to. It means she has lots of people who follow her on social media. She’s really popular.”

My eyebrow raises at that one. “If she’s so popular why is she coming here for Christmas?”

Cindy’s impatience is audible in her tone. “She’s a VIP, Ryder. We’re lucky she could come at such short notice.”

I carry on eating, watching the snow, and trying to come up with a way to get out of leaving my cabin and driving all the way to Anchorage.

“If she’s a VIP why are you asking me to pick her up? Can’t someone else do it?”

“We’re running on a skeleton crew as it is. Kelly, Jenny, and Ellen are the only staff members on site. Since I can’t drive, that leaves you.”

I near growl a reply. “I’m not a staff member and I live twenty miles away from the retreat,” I remind her.

“Yes, I know that. But everyone else is literally snowed under, you know the alternate roads to the retreat. Plus, you have a truck.”

I don’t say anything for a few seconds as I swallow down another mouthful and she seems to take my silence as my dismissal. “For God’s sake Ryder, can you just do this one thing for me, please? Do you really think I’d be asking you if I wasn’t desperate? You don’t have to have anything to do with the other guests, and I won’t ask you again, I promise.”

With a grunt and a lot of resentment I grudgingly release the words I know I’ll regret. “Fine. I’ll do it. But this is a one-time thing. And don’t use this an excuse to try to get me to rope me in with all the wacko self-help shit you do at the retreat.”

Her reply is laced with sarcasm. “I wouldn’t dream of asking you to participate in anything that might help you live a fulfilling and meaningful existence.”

I look around the cabin I’ve called home for the past year. “My life is plenty fulfilling. I have everything I need right here.”

“I’m not going to start an argument with you. I understand why you wanted to leave your old life behind, and I can appreciate why you chose to live alone in Grandad’s cabin, but what I can’t understand is why you refuse to embrace everything else Alaska has to offer. The people are incredible, and no one knows what MMA is let alone follows gossip.”

While she’s going through her usual diatribe of why I should interact more with the local community and stop hiding, I tune out and I finish the rest of my food.

Eventually, she gets I’m not listening. “Okay. I see I’m wasting my breath. I won’t say anymore, but I will say it would be nice if you came here for Christmas dinner when I call mom and dad.”

I don’t reply, so rather than tell her I have no desire to join her for a vegan dinner and alcohol-free wine or speak to our fucked up parents, I just ask her for the flight details.

She rattles them off and asks me to repeat them like I’m a moron. “I got it. Millie Jones, 5’8, blonde hair, Alaska Airlines 2089 out of Seattle.”

There’s an element of worry in her voice that makes me regret this before I’ve even left. “And please try to be nice to her. She’s had a difficult week and I promised her this would be stress-free,” she says.

I scowl at the remainder of my meal and watch my peace crack into pieces. “Fucking fantastic. I love dealing with difficult women,” I mutter.

***

Millie

Friday 10.07am

From inside the airport filled with other weary travelers, I’m smothering yawns, sitting next to my overnight bag, waiting for Cindy to come find me.

With a pang of envy, I look at a woman cradling a coffee and wonder if I have time to go get one myself.

Since we agreed to meet in the arrival lounge, and I don’t want to miss her, I just cross my leg and check my email while I wait.

Several have come in from my boss, letting me know he’s working when he’s supposed to be at his wife’s parents getting ready for Christmas.

I’m about to tap out a reply telling him I’ll be sure to get as many creative shots of the Northern Lights as possible when I see a call coming in from Cindy.

I frown as I pick up, wondering if she’s having trouble finding either me or a parking spot.

“Hi. I’m officially on Alaskan soil.”

Her usually cheery voice sounds strained. “Great! How was your flight?”

I grimace and lower my voice. “Long. Very long. And slightly, er vomitty.”

She chuckles but there’s something in her voice that causes unease to spread through my middle.

The last thing I need is for her to have double booked my room or to have forgotten she’s made other arrangements after all. “Is something wrong?”

Her reply comes out clipped and I have to strain to hear over the announcements. “Not wrong. Just not how we planned. I’m really sorry, but I’m not able to pick you up from the airport. I’m still at the retreat.”

My stomach plummets to my toes and I slump back in my uncomfortable airport chair. “Oh,” is all I can think of to say.

She hurries to add an explanation. “Don’t worry, you won’t be stranded at the airport. I’m sending my brother to come get you. He should be there soon. I’m so sorry. I hurt my ankle last week, and it’s turned out to be more serious than I first thought.”

I swallow past the lump in my throat and try not to panic that I’ll now be in the hands of a total stranger.

I don’t know whether it’s the hangover, the lack of sleep, or the flight but I’m now teetering on bursting into tears.

I’ve managed plenty of worse situations, but my ability to cope seems to have cracked under the weight of another failed relationship and the hope Cindy might be able to help me through it just like she used to do back in college.

Instead of acting like a big baby, I suck it up and force myself to think about how Cindy feels rather than how I do. “Will you be okay?”

Even in the circumstances I can hear the eternal optimism she was known for in her voice.

“I’ll be fine. It’s not too painful. But I won’t be able to show you around the way I planned. But I can hobble around as needed and I’ve spoken to Linda and she’s going to do whatever I can’t for you. And I know this isn’t how we wanted it, but we can still stay up late, talk this all through, eat smores and you’ll still get to see the Northern Lights. I promise.”

I know I should be grateful she’s going out of her way to accommodate me, and I know it’s incredibly self-absorbed of me, but all I can think of is how exhausted I feel right now.

I can barely keep my eyes open, and with the time differences, my jet-lag is now competing with my hangover sucking away any energy I had left.

My manners seem to kick in on auto-pilot and I find myself speaking without having to think. “Don’t worry about me. You just rest up and I’ll see you when I get to the retreat.”

“I will. And again, so sorry. Try to sleep on the way back, and don’t worry if Ryder is a bit gruff. He doesn’t like crowds so coming to the airport is way out of his comfort zone.”

I blink back tears as I force myself to try to stay positive even though I feel anything but.

I vaguely recall Cindy talking about her older brother, but I had no idea he lived in Alaska too, let alone close enough to lend a hand. “Is he the MMA fighter? Didn’t he live in Williamsport?”

There’s something in her voice that makes me sit up a little straighter.

“He quit and moved up here a year ago. But like I said, please don’t take it personally if he comes across as grumpy. He lives by himself and rarely comes into town, let alone Anchorage. He hates big cities and he hates Christmas.”

I rub my temple and look at the hundreds of people milling around either being picked up by loved ones or waiting to be. “I won’t take offense if he’s prickly and I’m too tired to talk anyway,” I say.

She blows out a long sigh. “He tends to rub people the wrong way and living by himself for a year has only made it worse.”

I’m about to ask her why he’s living alone when the crowd seems to part in front of me.

One look at a scowling and very intimidating man heading in my way and I know why.

With sculptured cheekbones, a strong jawline covered in a little stubble, and earrings in both ears, he’s handsome enough to draw a lot of admiring looks including mine.

I gulp and shrink back in my seat as his eyes lock on to me, and narrow as he stalks towards me. “Is he, um, dangerous?” I ask in a whisper.

Cindy’s laugh is meant to be reassuring but it doesn’t do anything close to it.

And when he stops in front of me and glowers at me it’s easy to see how lethal he must have been. “You Cindy’s friend?” he growls.

I think I manage to nod, but I’m so taken aback I can’t speak.

Cindy seems to have overheard. “Oh, good he’s there. And please ignore him if he acts like a neanderthal. Try to get some sleep. There’s a soft bed, hot meal, and lots of TLC waiting for you when you get here. Everything is going to be okay.”

With Ryder’s fierce gaze locked on to me, my reply comes out as a weird squeaky sound.

When I can’t seem to move, he frowns even harder. “That your only bag?”

Since he’s not making this any easier, I give him a shaky nod. “I travel light.”

Without a word, or an offer to carry my bag, he spins on his heel leaving me to scramble to follow after him.

As I slide my phone into my bag and heft it over my shoulder, I start to realize why Cindy recommended sleeping rather than trying to communicate with him.

And given the way people are giving him a wide berth, and his lack of manners, Ryder is not a man I want to spend any more time with than absolutely necessary.