Solitary Man - Sherilee Gray Page 0,1

on all cylinders to me.”

I laughed. “I’m just going to go ahead and take that as a compliment.”

“You should. It was meant as one. I think you and Cash will get on just fine.”

I had no idea how or why he thought this, since we’d just met and had talked for all of three minutes. But I’d take it, because I wanted that, too. More than anything.

“Do you know him well?” I asked, hungry for anything more he could share about the man I was marrying.

“Known him all his life. He’s hard-working, honest, loyal.” He looked at me, right in the eyes. His stare was earnest, unwavering. “Cash Smith is a good man. One of the best.”

I drew in a shaky breath to steady my nerves. I knew these things. It had all been there in his emails. Not in a showy way. Just in the way he spoke about his day or his interactions with others.

I needed honest and loyal after the nightmare I’d been through with my ex-boyfriend, Keith. I swallowed as familiar fear sliced through me. He’d stalked and terrorized me when we broke up. Then things had escalated when he’d broken into my apartment in the middle of the night and threatened me with a knife.

To anyone who knew my history—and right now that was only the police investigating my case—moving here, doing this, would probably seem insane. But it felt the opposite to me. This was the clean break I so desperately needed. The new start. A way to build a beautiful new life on my own terms.

One night, I’d been sitting in the dark, too afraid to sleep, feeling lost, alone. Then I’d seen an advertisement in my Facebook feed asking if I’d love to live by the mountains. I’d clicked on it. I don’t know why. I guess the picture of insanely beautiful snow-covered peaks had spoken to me. The link had taken me to FindMeAHusband.com. I’d seen Cash’s Wife Wanted advertisement almost immediately.

And I’d just…known.

I wrote about romance every day. And I wanted that for myself. So I went after it. I made it happen.

A distant low hum echoed through the valley.

I searched the fields and hills surrounding us. “What is that?”

Landon patted my hand. “That would be your fiancé.” He pointed up to the sky, to a speck in the distance.

“A plane?”

“Yep.”

I squinted, my heart thundering harder. “Cash is in that plane?”

“He’s flying it.”

Oh my God.

I stared up at the sky, stunned. “He never said he could fly.”

Landon chuckled. “Gotta keep some mystery in a relationship. Isn’t that what they say? Besides, it’s the only way to get to his property.”

I spun to face him. “What?”

“He lives in a pretty remote area. You didn’t know?”

I mean, kind of. I assumed he was an hour’s drive from town or something when he said his place was isolated. But this was something else.

Calm down. Nothing’s changed. He lives a little farther out, that’s all. This was not a big deal. Except for your total fear of flying, especially in small planes!

“Where will he land?” I said, looking around frantically.

Landon pointed to a field. “There.”

I shot to my feet as the small aircraft came in to land, bouncing and bumping along, with my heart in my throat the whole time. Oh no. No, no, no, no. That plane was small on a whole new freaking level.

It finally came to a stop. I stood there, wringing my hands as I took in the dark figure sitting inside.

Now my flying nerves morphed into something else. Cash was here. He was finally here.

I couldn’t see him properly, since he was in shadow behind the window. When the door opened, those relentless nerves spiked so high my head spun.

One long leg appeared, then another, his massive thighs bunching as he climbed out. A navy thermal clung to his thick waist and flat stomach, molding perfectly to the jaw-dropping expanse of his colossal chest. And those shoulders? Holy freaking hell.

Then he was out, standing by the plane.

I took a startled step back, then stopped myself and quickly stepped forward, limbs shaky, heart pounding. My fiancé was…huge. A veritable mountain of a man.

He didn’t look like his picture. Nope. Size aside—though I wasn’t sure that was possible—in the photo he was clean shaven. The man walking toward me had a full beard and hair that needed a trim.

Landon muttered a curse beside me.

“That’s…Cash?” I whispered, my throat suddenly closing up.

Landon laughed unsteadily. “Told the boy to shave.”

Boy?

Nope. Man.

All man.

As Cash