Page 3 of Don’t Make Me Fall (Mountain Men of Cinnamon Creek #1)

Chapter Three

Alanna

“Where were you last night?” I demand of my brother, Reid, when I spot him in the lobby talking to Winnie at the front check-in counter.

He’s wearing a flannel shirt, jeans, and has a toolbelt wrapped around his waist. It’s not an Army uniform, but the look suits him just the same. Especially in this log cabin style lodge. The place looks both rustic and modern in a way I can’t quite pin, but I approve. It’s so him.

“Hey, Sis. Hello to you too. You’re welcome for the last-minute accommodations.”

“You owed me.” I set the untouched lunch tray on an empty end table so I can fold my arms over my chest to emphasize my irritation. “And you stuck me with your grumpy friend.”

“Oh, that would be Hudson.”

Hudson. Damn. Why does his name, just like everything else about the man, have to be so sexy? It would be so much easier to hate the man, if only we didn’t have some kind of moment last night outside at the van.

Or at least I think it was a moment.

The internal debate kept me up late into the night.

That, and stalking my boss’s social media like the pathetic fool that I am.

“He had me convinced I’d get eaten by a mountain lion if I walked into town to find you—”

“You don’t want to wander off alone at dusk around here,” Reid says, his tone all matter-of-fact.

“He’s right,” Winnie agrees, her tone more compassionate. “We’ve had a big cat lurking near town lately. Dusk and dawn are the most dangerous times to be out by yourself. Hudson’s warning was justified. He was just looking out for you, dear.”

“Oh,” I say, finding it hard to be annoyed at Winnie for coming to Hudson’s defense. The woman reminds me of one of the Hallmark grandmas who bakes cookies nonstop and secretly tries to set her grandson up with the girl. Thankfully, her grandson—Reid’s business partner, Mason—is already married.

Too bad Hudson’s not her grandson.

I shake away the unsolicited thought that has zero grounding in reality, but it doesn’t stop me from scanning the lobby looking for signs of him.

“What’s with the tray?” Reid asks, pulling me back to my present dilemma.

“Erin won’t eat.” I let out a defeated sigh. “I’m worried about her. She’s acting very…un-Erin.”

Last night, after the five of us got settled in our individual rooms and changed into our PJs, we congregated in Erin’s room. She was uncomfortably quiet, despite our best attempts to get her to talk. I suspect she’s still in shock, but her oddly calm demeanor is so out of character for her.

“What happened?” Reid asks. The question is fair considering I gave my brother very few details about the last-minute change in plans. “I thought you were all on your way to Cancun.”

“Chad happened, that’s what,” I hiss. “He tripped, and his dick slipped into Gwen.”

“I never liked that guy,” Reid says, his expression hardening.

“You’ve never met him,” I point out.

“Maybe your friend just needs some quiet time to decompress,” Winnie suggests, apparently unaffected by my use of the word dick in such a literal manner. I like Winnie.

“That’s pretty much what she said last night,” I admit.

“It’s really the only thing she said.” Other than insisting the four of us get out and explore Cinnamon Creek so she can live vicariously through our experiences this weekend.

She made it clear that she plans to stay locked in her room attached to her Kindle.

“Maybe you need some fresh air?”

“Me?”

“It’s daylight now,” Winnie insists. “Mountain lions rarely attack in broad daylight.”

“Maybe.”

“We have a whole range of activities you can sign up for,” Winnie adds, her face illuminating with excitement. Despite my own urge to lock myself in my lodge room, punishing myself by scrolling through Tyler and Cindy’s engagement photos on social media, I don’t want to hurt Winnie’s feelings.

My phone pings, the tone indictive of a work email.

I glance at the screen.

It’s Tyler.

Of course it is.

My chest hurts seeing his name on the screen.

He knows I’m out of the office through Sunday.

Before he announced his engagement to Cindy in accounting earlier this week, I would have welcomed any form of communication from him while I was away.

But now chucking my phone into a river sounds more appealing than responding to one of his emails.

I put my phone on silent and slip it into my back pocket.

“Everything okay?” Reid asks.

“Yep. Just wedding drama stuff,” I lie.

Winnie flashes me a look that calls bullshit. Or at least I think she does. The flicker in her eyes is quick. Maybe I imagined it. Either way, I’d wager there’s more to this unassumingly sweet woman than she lets on.

“What types of activities do you offer at this lodge, anyway?” I direct the question to my brother but walk up to the counter where Winnie has laid out some brochures.

Maybe getting some fresh air would do me some good.

Help me clear my head. Or at the very least, allow me to escape reality while I still can. Monday will be here soon enough.

“There’s kayaking, white water rafting, guided hikes, a flight that takes you out to a fire lookout tower, wildlife tours—”

“I think I’m good on the wildlife front right now,” I admit. “What’s this one?” I point to a brochure showcasing a photo of an epic mountain view, the sun dipping low into the horizon. It looks…peaceful.

“That’s our guided hike to Sunset Point,” Winnie explains.

“Oh, you should definitely do that one,” Reid agrees.

“I didn’t bring hiking shoes,” I admit. “None of us did. We were packed for the beach.”

“There’s the cutest outfitters store in town,” Winne says, pulling something out of a drawer and placing it on the counter. “As a first-time guest of the Cinnamon Creek Lodge, you can get twenty-five percent off your purchases there.”

“Hard to say no to that,” Reid says.

“It’s just a block past the bakery,” Winnie adds. “You should really try one of Ivy’s cupcakes on your way. They’ll change your life.”

“She’s not wrong,” Reid agrees.

“Want to come with me?” I ask my brother. I would ask one of the other ex-bridesmaids, but after last night’s conversation about local activities, I got the distinct impression that none of them hike on purpose. “On the hike?”

“Can’t, I’m afraid.”

“Oh come on. Your favorite sister is only here for a long weekend.”

“You’re my only sister.”

“The details aren’t important.”

“I’m remodeling our honeymoon suite,” Reid says, his tone hinting at apology. “We have a newly wed couple booked in two weeks. You didn’t exactly give me a lot of notice you were coming.”

“There will be others on the hiking excursion,” Winne reassures me.

This bit of knowledge makes me feel better.

If I spend the day surrounded by complete strangers, no one will figure out how pathetic I am for being heartbroken over the boss who led me to believe we had a future together when he was boning Cindy in accounting the whole time.

I can pretend to be whoever I want to be.

“You should do it,” Reid encourages.

“You’ll keep an eye on Erin?” I ask him.

“Yes,” he answers without hesitation. Almost as though that were his plan all along. But surely I’m imagining that part. It’s probably just jetlag. Erin is family—to both of us—and has been since she and I were in second grade. “I’ll make sure she eats something, too.”

“Good luck with that.”

“No one can say no to a cupcake from the Cinnamon Creek Bakery. It’s actually against the law here.”

Winnie offers me a bright smile, sliding the coupon for the outfitter store closer to me until I finally take it. “He’s not lying.”

“Guess I better find myself a pair of hiking shoes.”

“Alanna?” Reid says.

“Yeah?”

“I know it’s hard, but maybe try leaving your phone behind?”

“That’s not hard,” I lie.

“It’s practically super glued to your person at all times,” he points out.

“But I might want to take pictures.” Never mind that the group agreed not to post a single photo until we were on the flight home Sunday. We don’t want anyone tipping off the cheating couple with our whereabouts.

Reid shakes his head as he starts to walk off. “Just try to enjoy yourself, Sis. Cinnamon Creek is a beautiful place, but you have to pay attention to notice it.”

I stare after him, letting his words sink in.

“You’re all booked,” Winnie announces. “Your ride will be here at three to pick you up.”