Falling Into Love: Muddy Mountain Resort series, #1

By S.C. Wynne

What if actually following through on your New Year's resolution brought you the perfect man?

Chris Lambrough is having a run of bad luck. He's lost his job and his boyfriend and is feeling depressed. His best friend Jenny tells him about an ad she's noticed where The Muddy Mountain Ski Resort is looking for waiters. Chris has restaurant experience and since his New Year's Resolution is to learn to ski it seems like a nice opportunity to jump start his life.

Trevor Brown is a ski instructor at the resort. He befriends Chris right away and the have undeniable chemistry. But Trevor has guilt over the death of his lover, Lane two years earlier. Can the two of them learn to trust each other and move forward and forget the past?

• Language: English
• Publisher: S.C. Wynne
• Release date: May 24, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386717317

S.C. Wynne

S.C. Wynne has been writing MM romance and mystery since 2013. She’s a Lambda winner, and lives in California with her wonderful husband, two quirky kids, and a loony rescue pup named Ditto. www.scwynne.com

Book preview

FALLING INTO LOVE

By S.C. Wynne

Dedication

I wanted to write something lighthearted and romantic. We all make our New Year’s Resolutions year after year, but what if taking a chance and following through on it actually led us to our happy ever after? That idea was behind Chris and Trevor’s love story.

Chapter One

Skiing, skiing, skiing. I chuckled and took another drink from my wineglass. "You ever notice how word that weird sounds when you say it over and over?"

Jenny grinned and pointed her slender finger in my face. You’re drunk, Christopher. She snorted and pounded the table. Stinking, goddamned lightweight.

I frowned, scrunching my face up at her accusation. Pfft.

Jesus, I need to find a friend who can hold his fucking liquor. She stood up abruptly, tugging at her black miniskirt. This son of a bitch keeps riding up my ass.

I loved Jenny. She was my best friend in the world, and when she drank, she swore like a pirate. A really pretty, petite, blonde chick of a pirate. I’d never seen the girl drink that she didn’t turn into Black Beard or Blue Beard or whichever one might have had the bigger potty mouth.

Her expression became blank as a stone suddenly, and she stared at something, or someone, behind me. Oh shit.

What? I froze.

She chewed on her fingernail and flicked her gaze to me, and then returned to whatever it was that she was gawking at. Fuckity, fuck, fuck. She licked her lips and gave me a sweet smile. Now, Chris. You know how we talked about how you weren’t going to let things bother you so much starting in 2018? I mean, it’s New Year’s Eve, so that should be kicking in any minute, right?

I nodded, grimacing. What’s wrong?

She sighed. Dickwad Riley just walked in, and he isn’t alone. Her tone resembled how a veterinarian might sound when informing you your beloved dog wasn’t going to make it.

My stomach sank, and it took everything in me not to turn around and look at my rat of an ex-boyfriend. He knew this was my favorite bar. Why did he have to show up here tonight, and with a date to boot?

I believe technically my New Year’s resolution involved learning to ski.

I’m sure you can have more than one, she said weakly, laying her hand over mine. "The guy he’s with isn’t even that cute."

It occurred to me that I didn’t have to turn around to get a good look, because there was a huge beveled mirror behind her that showcased the room quite nicely. The first thing that caught my eye was my own disheveled reflection. My black, spiky hair was poking out in several directions from under a golden 2018 paper crown, and my collar was crumpled and folded under.

But then the image of Riley hanging on a hunky brunet dude came into focus. Riley looked happy. That was nice. Who didn’t love seeing the guy who’d dumped them, ecstatically happy with his new boyfriend?

Hmmm, I said, squinting at them, doing my best to ignore my churning stomach.

You’re looking in the mirror, aren’t you? Her brows knit, and the corners of her mouth turned down. You sneaky bastard.

I don’t know what he sees in that guy. I mean, he’s only gorgeous and built. I glanced down at my slender frame, feeling completely inadequate. I look like a starving artist by comparison.

"You are a starving artist." She grimaced.

Actually, I’m a starving receptionist at an art gallery. It doesn’t have the same mystique.

I’m sure things will turn around at the gallery any day now.

Um… yeah, about that… I slumped, resting my elbows on the table, still staring glumly at my ex. I didn’t want to tell you sooner because I didn’t want to bum you out.

Tell me what? she asked suspiciously.

Randall announced yesterday that the partners have decided they’re closing down the gallery first of the year.

Jenny’s eyebrows shot toward her hairline. What? You mean as in tomorrow?

Yep.

Oh, wow.

I pressed my lips together, staring at my ex and his new squeeze. It gets worse.

You lost your job. How the hell could it get worse?

Randall said they aren’t going to be able to give us our final paychecks for a while.

Are you serious? Her voice squeaked.

Unfortunately.

Those asshats, she growled. Randall spends money like it grows on trees, but they can’t pay their employees? Her eyes were wide with disbelief.

Apparently.

I’m sorry, Chris. I’m sure you’ll find something better. She patted my arm and rested her hand on my wrist, giving it an encouraging squeeze.

I finished off my wine and refilled my glass. Well, there go the skiing lessons, I guess. I hear they’re not cheap.

Hey, wait. She straightened suddenly and snapped her fingers. I half expected a lightbulb to appear above her head. I just remembered an ad I saw yesterday in the WANTED section of the paper.

Organ donations?

No. She snorted.

I swallowed loudly. I’ll kill myself before I ask my dad for money.

I know. She gripped my hand. Now hear me out before you reject my plan.

I love how you have such faith in your idea, I said dryly. It’s very reassuring.

It’s just that sometimes you’re a tad stubborn, she murmured, drumming her fingers on the table. You were a waiter before you started at the gallery, right?

I nodded, looking at her suspiciously because her expression resembled a mad scientist. Yes. And I was a barista before that, and a dog walker, and I worked at a stationery store. What about it?

I only care about the waiter gig. As I recall, they loved you at that Italian restaurant. If you hadn’t fucked the head chef, you’d still be there no doubt.

He hit on me first.

It doesn’t matter. The point is, you have restaurant experience.

Don’t tell me that’s your big idea? I looked at her like she was crazy. I know I can go back to waiting tables. But that wasn’t exactly my first choice.

No. I know. But you could get hired easily and it does pay the bills.

Fair enough. I squinted at her. This is seriously your big idea?

She laughed. There’s more to it. I have a plan where you could pay the bills and also take those ski lessons you want so badly. She slurped her wine, apparently more confident now in whatever proposal she was about to unload on me.

I don’t think I’m the only one who’s drunk at this table.

Oh please. This shit is like drinking Mother’s milk to me. She held up her glass dismissively.

You were saying? I prodded.

Right. You know Muddy Mountain? The ski resort?

The big lodge north of here? I tried to remember what little I did know about the place. I’d never actually been there, but I had seen brochures. Expensive, full-color, glossy brochures. There was obviously a lot of money behind that place.

Yeah. The one that famous actor built.

What about it? I asked.

The lodge is expanding and looking for help. She seemed to think she’d told me something amazing. She watched me expectantly.

I think I’m missing something.

They’ve been running ads for months, looking for servers for their main restaurant, Jenny said.

"Let me get this straight. Not only do you want me to go back to waiting tables, you want me to do it three hours away from my home?"

Pretty much. She nodded.

Why? If I’m just going to be a waiter, I can do that right here.

Up there you’d have fresh air and nobody would know you. It could be a fresh start.

But… I like the city.

She paused, giving the look of death to a drunk who bumped into her chair. You need to get the hell out of Billings. You’re wasting your time here.

I am?

Yep. What are you even doing with your life?

Grimacing, I said, I do stuff.

One night stands and drinking too much is not exactly a promising life plan.

I frowned. I thought this was a pep talk. You’re making me want to jump off a bridge.

She rolled her eyes and leaned toward me. What I’m saying is, you need to think about the last year. Hell, think about your last three years. You’ve been like a zombie working shit job after shit job and putting up with guys like Riley. I’m worried about you.

You don’t need to be. I’ll find another job.

It’s not your employment situation that has me concerned. She pressed her lips together, and then she continued, You seem so sad and hopeless all the time. I haven’t seen you this depressed since college. Is there anything that gets you excited? You’re only twenty-six. Do you have any sort of passion or enjoyment in your life?

Even though I was looking at her like I thought she’d lost her mind, I knew what she was saying was kind of true. I was depressed and in a funk. I had been for a while, but I didn’t know how to get out of it. A part of me was actually glad the gallery closed because I’d hated that job. But I’d been too scared to leave and find something else.

Your apathy about life worries me, she said softly.

I’m doing fine. I lied, as I allowed my gaze to follow Riley around the room. Not everybody’s life is exciting and amazing. Some of us are just doing the best we can. I’ve accepted that being an adult isn’t always fun. Are you bouncing off the walls, happy to get out of bed every morning?

Uh, yeah. I am. She laughed.

I scowled. You are?

Yes. I love my job, and, while I haven’t found the man of my dreams yet, the men I’m dating are quality guys. She cleared her throat. You, on the other hand, are basically fucking anybody who asks.

I winced, looking around. God, Jenny. That’s not true.

She grimaced sheepishly. Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating. But over and over again, you meet a douche bag like Riley, and you sleep with him right away. And then you let him treat you like shit until he dumps you for a new piece of ass. She glared over my shoulder in the direction of my ex.

"Just for the record, I don’t fuck them right away."

She scrunched her face at me. Paa-leese.

I noticed Riley and his boy toy were nearing our spot at the bar. Oh God, I didn’t want him seeing me like this. I’d have preferred to have a cute guy sitting next to me with his tongue down my throat.

You need adventure and a change of scenery, something to get the old juices flowing again. Jenny rested her chin in her palm.

I fail to see how moving that far away will get things flowing. Perspiration broke out on my upper lip as I slid lower in my chair, hoping Riley wouldn’t spot me.

It would be good for you to go somewhere new. If you’re lucky enough to meet a great guy, you could make it a rule to try to get to know him as a person before you…you know, jump in bed with him.

Yeah, well, it’s the talking part I find tricky.

You have to talk to people. How else do you connect?

By fucking them. I grinned.

Chris! She widened her eyes. No. That should come after you connect on a more personal level.

What’s more personal than sex?

She sighed. I’m talking about sharing a piece of yourself. You know, letting them see inside you on an emotional level.

I shivered. That sounds horrible. Besides, you know I’m not great at sharing my feelings. Sleeping with guys is how I get close without all that other nonsense.

Wow. That’s so sad.

If you’re going to mock me, I don’t want to talk about it.

Someone has to tell you how it is, she grumbled.

I’m here to drink and have fun. You’re really bumming me out.

She bit her lip and almost managed to look contrite. I’m sorry. You’re right. This probably isn’t the time or the place.

Just for the record, I actually am aware that I have issues. I ran a hand over my hair, trying to get the spikes to lay flat.

But you don’t care?

I didn’t say that.

Her gaze softened. You could change if you wanted to.

I’m not sure I know how. I hesitated. All I know is, it’s lots of fun getting to the sex part. But then it goes downhill from there. I shrugged. Once we fuck, it usually gets super awkward. Next thing I know, I’m bored out of my mind, and they usually catch on and dump my ass. It never seems to progress to the next stage.

I think it’s the type of guys you’re picking.

I don’t know.

You’re picking people you have nothing in common with other than sex.

Maybe.

Remember four years ago when I was so depressed? I kept doing the same thing. I was dating guys based on their hotness level.

I pointed an accusing finger at her, grateful that the subject had changed from me for a second. True. You hooked up with some real winners.

She looked up to the heavens and then continued in a patient voice. That’s what I’m saying, dork. Then I moved here, and my life turned around. She held her thumb up. I’m doing great now. Because I needed a fresh start, but it had to be somewhere where no one knew me—other than you, obviously. Otherwise, the old haunts and people trigger bad habits. When you’re lonely, it’s way too easy to sleep with an ex.

I had to admit, she’d been a basket case when she moved here. No job, no boyfriend and as depressed as I’d ever seen her. But slowly, she’d found her way. She’d gotten a job teaching art at the local college, and her attitude had done a one-eighty.

Couldn’t I just move to a different neighborhood or something? That would be a change. I straightened my paper crown and sighed, feeling dejected.

It would be better if you challenged yourself. You need to get out of your comfort zone. She topped off my wine. Your resolution this year was to learn to ski, right?

I nodded, taking a long gulp off my drink while avoiding her gaze. I hadn’t planned on following through with my resolution. Nobody followed through on those things, right? I actually did want to learn to ski someday, but I’d mostly just thrown that idea out there to