Here's Casey Cox's "The Reclusive Mountain Man" instead (it's the third and final book in her Movin' to the Mountains series).
["MARSH
Tal Bellamy is everything I'm not. A jet-setting playboy. A sexy silver fox. A guy who lives his life loudly and unapologetically.
We've been friends for almost twenty years. When he comes to town for a visit, I make a vow. There's something I need to get off my chest. Something I've been hiding.
Tal's the perfect guy to confide in because I know he won't judge me. The last thing I expect is to get plastered and hook up with him.
TAL
Marsh Duncan is a big, burly mountain man. A recluse. Grouchy at times. Or at least, that's what he wants people to think.
Not me. I know the man beneath the gruff exterior. When he's around his brothers or hanging out with me, his kindness and warmth shine through.
The truth is, Marsh is actually one giant marshmallow.
Another truth?… I'm all-out, head over heels, slap-me-sideways in love with him.
My plan is to confess my secret when I visit, not sleep with him. But it seems that I'm not the only one with something to reveal.
Now that we've both shared our truth, the question is: have we ruined our friendship, or are we on the brink of a forever love?"]
I love Casey's books and her characters and her happily ever afters. Sometimes, the utter lack of angst is a pleasure, an anxiety break, but other times, I need something to drive the story, to set the stakes, to make it worth going onto the next chapter. Does that make sense?
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