Chapter 2Mason Foley instinctively ducked at the deafening crack of thunder mere seconds after a blinding flash of lightning. f**k, that’d scared the crap out of him. The clouds opened and he drew up his hood, grabbed the garment bag from the backseat of the Jeep, and made a dash to the chalet’s welcoming entranceway, brightly lit and shimmering with Christmas lights.
He pulled open the heavy front door and stumbled inside, the garment bag slipping from his shoulder, throwing him off balance, nearly tripping him. He let it drop to the oak floor, disgusted, wet, and out of sorts; traffic making the drive from California to Washington longer than it should have been. Instead of rolling into Three Forks at nine o’clock, it drew closer to midnight. He was exhausted and ached head to toe from
