by Frankie Love
“You’re Rosie’s uncle?”
“Yes, I am,” he spits out. “And I don’t think you know who you are talking to.”
“Oh, I know who I’m talking to alright. I’m talking to the son of a bitch who treated Rosie like a piece of property.” I can’t hold back anymore, I charge at him, ready to knock him to the ground.
I connect my fist to his jaw, and there’s a loud crack. The men with him jump into action, pulling out their guns on me.
“We got him,” one of the men call to her uncle. “You go get Rosalind.”
“Over my dead body,” I shout, reaching for my gun.
“You better think twice,” her uncle responds, making a break for the door, holding his face with his hand.
I don’t hesitate. I pull the trigger, connecting the bullet to his leg. Knowing the blow will drop him like a fly.
“Motherfucker,” he screams, falling on my porch.
“You want to play this game?” I ask his entourage. “Because I know two things. You aren’t getting inside and I have back up on their way.”
Jaxon kicks the gun out of the uncle’s hand the moment he tries to pull himself up. Grabbing the gun, Jaxon and I leer above the two asshats who think they are in the same league as us.
At that moment, an ambulance rolls up the drive, lights blaring, siren roaring. The jerkoffs drop their guns, realizing we mean business.
We aren’t fucking around and we sure as hell aren’t letting anyone near our women and children.
We are mountain men.
Epilogue
One year later …
I finish adding candles to the birthday cake the moment Buck’s parents arrive, arms filled with wrapped gifts for the girls, smiles on their faces, flowers for me.
It never gets old, this family. The love they offer so freely.
Last year, after the twins and I were transported to the hospital, Buck called his parents, letting them know the news. All of it.
That I came back. That I was pregnant with his twins. That I’d had them that morning.
That he’d shot a man. Shot my uncle.
But I don’t want to think about that right now. Right now we have a celebration to worry about. Clover and Poppy – our mountain wildflowers – are turning one.
“Where are my granddaughters?” Cherri asks, giving me a kiss on the cheek.
“Buck is getting them in their party dresses,” I tell her, giving Dirk a hug, then offering him a Bud Light. “How is the new menu working at the diner?”
I helped Cherri come up with a new menu, and I go down there a few afternoons a week to help out. It’s a nice way to get out of the house, but also I love it there, cooking and working on recipes.
“It’s going good, but it’s always better when you’re there. As soon as these babies grow a bit, the place is yours, Rosie.”
Cherri says this often enough that I’m beginning to believe her. Who would of thought all those years cooking and cleaning for my uncle could be redeemed?
Buck walks into the kitchen, his girls in his arms.
“Oh, my goodness sakes,” Cherri coos. “Those dresses are adorable. Where’d you find them?”
“Harper and I sewed them. They turned out pretty cute, right?”
“Where are Jaxon and Harper?” Buck asks.
“They’re on their way. Harper wasn’t feeling very good this morning.”
“That poor thing has the worst morning sickness, doesn’t she?” Cherri shakes her head, then reaches out for Poppy. “Was it like that for you, with the girls?”
I meet Buck’s eyes, I hate talking about my pregnancy because I know how much Buck wishes he could have been a part of every doctor visit, every ultrasound. He would have been one of those daddy’s who put headphones on my belly and played our girls his favorite country music.
But he missed all those firsts.
“I was pretty sick, so maybe that means Harper is going to have herself a girl this time around.”
“Bet she’d like that,” Dirk says, clinking his beer against Buck’s. “That woman is stuck in a cabin with lots of boys.”
We share a knowing laugh, Jaxon’s sons are two and we call them the wild pack. I can’t imagine a more grizzly bunch of boys. Aspen, Cedar and Spruce are loud, louder, and loudest.
“Well, Harper has all the boys and you, my dear,” Cherri says to Buck, “have all the girls.”
Buck leans over, kissing me on the cheek. “I’m pretty sure I got the better end of the deal.” His hand wraps around my waist and I draw in a long breath, loving that this moment is so calm compared to the day the girls were born.
I truly didn’t know if it was Buck who had been shot. When I was carried into the ambulance, and saw Buck climbing in behind me, I lost it. I clung to that man and vowed I’d never, ever, let go.
I haven’t.
We got married a month later, on Christmas Eve. There was no reason to wait. We knew that life was precious, something to hold.
“I love you, darling,” he whispers now, in my ear. “I don’t think I could be any happier than I am right now.” He kisses me on the mouth, a mouth I love, a mouth I have memorized.
I kiss him back, knowing that tonight, I am going to make him even happier.
Late at night, after family and friends have left, and after we’ve tucked the girls into bed, Buck and I have our fun.
Like we do most every night. He can’t keep his hands off of me, even though I am easily fifteen pounds heavier than the day we met, and even though my curvy ass is even more curvy than before – he loves putting his hands on me, and I love how it feels to be touched by a man who loves me more than life itself.
My ass is in his face, mostly because I get off so fast when he licks my pussy. And I love to touch his long, hard cock when he’s flicking my clit. His tongue rolls up and down my length, tickling me, causing me to pull his cock from my mouth and laugh. “Buck, let me focus,” I tease.
I run my tongue up and down his thick shaft, worshipping the cock that made me a mother. I suck him hard, wrapping my lips around him, and filling my mouth up nice and good. He likes it when I take him as fully as I can, and I won’t deny my man what he loves.
Especially not when his beard is between my legs, making my pussy wet as hell, as he sucks hard against my clit.
“Ohh, Buck,” I moan, so close to coming. I want to taste his salty come though, so I keep sucking as an orgasm rolls though me.
“Oh, baby,” he says. “You taste so fucking good.” His tongue moves so fast against me, I feel myself slick, and it makes me move my hips, grinding my ass against him. He is so close too, and I pump his shaft as I suck, until he comes, hard and fast in my mouth.
I swallow his seed, loving the way he tastes, too, and I pull him from my mouth wanting his come on my breasts, on my nipples. Wanting to be coated in my husband, in the father of my children.
“Oh, fuck, fuck,” Buck groans, coming in ribbons of sky cream on my tits. He presses a finger in my pussy, thrusting deep against my g-spot as I come harder and harder, until I am gasping for breath.
I fall over in the bed, completely undone.
“What the hell was that, Buck?” I grin in the darkness. “You just completely finger fucked me. The sheets are soaked.”
“My darlin’ loves nothing more than to get her pussy pounded.”
We stop laughing, eventually, and catch our breath.
The lights are off; the house is quiet besides our blissed out sighs of contentment. Buck runs his hand over the soft hair between my legs. “You make me so happy, Rosie,” he whispers in the dark.
“Can I make you happier?” I ask, cupping his balls, just the way he likes.
“I just got to lick your perfect cunt for a solid hour, I think that was my birthday, Christmas and anniversary gift all wrapped into one.”
I crawl closer to him, tracing the deer tattoo on his chest. “Nope. I have something else to give you.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Mmmhhmm.” I kiss his collarbone, his ear. I kiss his lips, his nose. I love Buck so completely, so fully. Want to make him the happiest man on earth. I pull up, and straddle him, and then taking his hands and resting them below my belly button.
“I’m pregnant, Buck.”
Even in the darkness, I swear I can see his smile beaming bright.
It brings tears to my eyes.
“Don’t cry, Rosie,” he says, bringing his hands to my face.
I hold his hand against my cheek. “No, baby, they are tears of joy. All the things we missed last time, when we were apart, this time, we can share. This time we can have these firsts together.”
He pulls me to him, and he kisses me deeply, our bodies colliding, our hearts one. I lay on his chest, cradled in his arms, our new baby between us.
I have a house that is a home, a man who is mine, and three children to watch grow.
Buck is my mountain man, but he is also my forever.
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WILDER: The Mountain Man’s Babies
Chapter 1
The longer I’m out here, the harder leaving the mountain becomes.
Damn, it’s crazy to think that just a few years ago I was giving my business partner Jaxon a bad time about selling his shit and staking a claim in the woods, and now, here I am.
A few trips out to these woods sold me on them. The pine trees, the clean air, the clear blue sky, and the quiet.
Well, it was quiet.
Not too quiet anymore. I swear this place ought to be called the Fertile Mountain. There are babies fussing all over the place. They’re cute as hell, but there are a lot of them.
Jax and Harper have four, their three-year-old triplet boys and a one-year-old baby girl. Rosie and Buck have their three daughters--two-year-old twins, and a six-month-old baby, and my brother and his wife have a set of newborn twins to boot.
That’s a helluva lot of babies.
I close my suitcase, wishing I were packing clothes that are a little more me. Flannels and blue jeans. But I’m going to Seattle to fucking charm the pants off some exec who wants to film a reality show out in the woods. Apparently, they think mountain men that build custom homes who have a bunch of babies might equal good television.
What the fuck do I know about TV? Not much, but Jaxon and Buck don’t want the crew around their women unless they’ve been vetted first. We need to know their intentions before we set them loose on our property.
That’s why I’m out here. Before I went into business with Jax, I went to law school. Fuckin’ A, right? But I didn’t last long. Hated the bullshit then, and I hate it now. I didn’t want to be in an office–I wanted to use my hands.
But I’m also the right person to go meet with this show, find out what they are planning. Hell, I don’t have a woman and children to look after. God knows no one is gonna miss me.
After pulling on my winter coat, I lock my front door. Toss my luggage in the truck, and head down the mountain.
On my way out of town, I stop at Rosie’s Diner to have lunch with the guys. Jaxon and Buck are already there, sitting in a booth, shooting the shit.
I slide in next to Jaxon. Facing Buck, I watch as his eyes land on his woman who’s walking toward our table.
Lucky bastard to have a woman like Rosie. Funny, sincere, genuine. Both these jackasses won the goddamn lottery when it came to women landing on their doorstep.
“You boys having your usual?” Rosie asks, pouring us black coffee.
“Yes, ma’am,” I tell her, having a sweet spot for her meatloaf sammy. “I need a Rosie Special, I’ve gotta long day ahead of me.”
“Flying out of Coeur d'Alene?” she asks.
I nod. I’m gonna drive the two hours to the city, then fly over to Seattle for tomorrow’s meeting.
Buck asks for a burger and fries, and Jax grunts out his order.
Rosie pauses before heading to the back and says, “You boys think this is a good idea? Because from where I’m standing, a TV crew is going to make a racket we aren’t prepared for.”
“I know, baby,” Buck tells her, threading his arm around his wife’s waist. “But this fell in our lap, we might as well see it through. Things tend to happen for a reason, you know? And the exposure for the company could be huge.” Buck is a chainsaw artist by trade, but after the babies came, he joined our custom home company. Gotta put food on the table, and all that shit.
Rosie smirks. “I don’t know, Buck. Right now I think Harper and I are mostly worried about our boy Dean Wilder, here,” she says, pointing to me. “About finding him a good, solid wife. And I don’t see how that’s going to happen in Seattle.”
Jaxon laughs. “Yeah, you don’t want some woman who can’t hack it in the woods.”
Rosie furrows her brow. “Buck tells me you weren’t always a mountain man yourself, Jaxon. Careful now.”
Jaxon runs his hand over his beard, shaking his head at us. “Yeah, but you and Harper have the right disposition for this life. Not every woman does, is all.”
“I’m right here, you know,” I tell them, raising an eyebrow at this crew who thinks they know what I need.
“We know, Wilder, we know.” Buck laughs, lifting his coffee to his mouth. “We just feel bad for you. Never getting laid, all by your lonesome up there in your tiny cabin.”
I laugh, “You guys are a bunch of fuckers, you know that?”
Rosie clucks her tongue. “Regardless, we know that you need a woman, but not some city-slicker girl who won’t play nice with us.”
“You’re telling me not to get laid when I’m in Seattle?” I shake my head, knowing I’d never tell Rosie this, but the prospect of getting laid tonight is half the reason I said I’d go.
“You can sleep with whomever, Wilder. I’m just saying, don’t knock anybody up that we haven’t approved.”
“She talks to you like that, too?” I ask Buck. He just grins like a lovesick puppy. Rosie winks at her husband before going back to the kitchen.
“You know she’s just giving you a hard time, right?” Buck says.
“The girls just want you to be happy,” Jaxon says. “And selfishly they want another friend. It’s lonely up here for them, too.”
Living in the mountains is great. I set my own hours, am my own boss, and work with the greatest guys I’ve ever known. But damn, Jaxon, my oldest friend, hit the nail on the goddamn head.
“I know, I know,” I tell them, before I take another drink of my coffee, knowing just how lonely it can be up here.
Damn, maybe I need to get off this mountain more than I thought.
I need to go get laid. And badly.
Chapter 2
“I’m not trying to be a pessimist,” Anna assures me, raising her hands in defense. “I just think a reality TV show is so...”
“So what?” I furrow my brows not understanding why my sister can’t just support me. That’s what I need. That’s all I’ve wanted. My family to have my back.
She takes a sip of her mimosa before answering. “It’s so tacky.”
We’re having brunch in a swanky Seattle bistro, something French and something expensive and she doesn’t seem to understand that we all aren’t married to stockbrokers living in posh waterfront homes. Some of us are just trying to pay rent and a reality TV show seems like the best offer I’ve seen lately.
“You are such a talented interior designer, and you’ll make more money updating the homes of my friends. That house you did for Alana was gorgeous.”
I frown. “Buying furniture for mansions is redundant. I want something more exciting.”
“Well, this reality show is a bad idea. Tho
se shows always make someone out to be the villain. What if that person is you? Your entire career could be ruined.”
I take a deep breath; frustrated that she doesn’t understand me. “This show could pay my bills for the entire year.”
“Or you could just move into our spare bedroom and help watch Nicolette.”
My mouth is in a tight line. “You know I love helping with my niece, but I don’t want any handouts. I want to make it on my own.”
Anna spears a piece of pineapple, eyes narrowed. “Mom and Dad think it’s embarrassing. The idea of you flaunting around on television.”
“Mom and Dad could call and talk to me about it. If they had their way I’d already be married to a guy like Brent. And that’s not going to happen. Ever.”
My sister’s husband is the last sort of guy I want to be with. I want a man who cares about more than his bank account.
Anna purses her lips. “You may think being married to Brent sounds like your worst nightmare, but he is able to support me and Nicolette. That counts for an awful lot.”
Anna married for money, not love. Just like our mother. And we may be family, but our priorities have always been different.
“It’s out of the question.” I fold my napkin and set it on the table. “I want my freedom, and I need some money in order to do that. So I’m going to try and get this gig.”
Anna shakes her head, confused. “Don’t you want a family? A husband? A baby?”
I shrug; because of course, I want those things. But I also want them on my terms. In my own time.
“One day,” I tell her. “But I’m not in a rush, Anna.”
“I know.” She pouts, and for a split second, I feel bad for her. Then I remember she chose this.
As if ignoring my comments about what I want, she launches into a new plan.
“Ohh! Brent can set you up with someone from work and we could have a double date. God, I need a night out.”
She is literally the last woman I know who needs a night out. She sends Nicolette to a fancy-pants preschool, has a private chef and a personal driver.