Mountain Manhattan_Mountain Man in the Big City

by Frankie Love

  I want to fall into his arms, I want to stay in them now and forever. My heart screams yes. But my mind holds back.

  I look at Matty and Tallie. “I can’t leave the city. It’s Matty’s home,” I tell Ford. “And I know it’s a small detail, but I have—”

  “Mia,” Ford says. “You don’t understand. I will move here, to Manhattan. I’ll move mountains to be with you.”

  Matty steps up next to me, takes my hand. “Mia,” he says. “I want to go. I’m ready to fly, too.”

  I look at my little brother, thinking of how many times he’s asked to explore, to play in a yard, to stretch his own wings.

  He nods, tears in his eyes.

  “You know what to say, sis,” he tells me.

  And I do. Tallie slips her hand into my other hand, nodding at me her answer.

  “It’s a package deal, Ford,” I tell him, tears brimming in my eyes.

  “Good,” he says. “Because it’s the only way I’ll have you.” I laugh, my shoulders shaking as the tears stream down my cheeks. “So, what’s it gonna be?” he asks, standing in front of me. His parents are here, watching, and so is the city, considering this is a live-streamed unveiling.

  But that isn’t putting pressure on me. I’m not that easily swayed.

  I know who I am, now more than ever.

  I’m not unsure of how to reply to Ford’s life-altering question.

  “It’s a yes, Ford Thatcher. I’ll marry you. On one condition.”

  He grins, opening the black box and revealing a massive diamond set on a simple gold band. “What’s that?”

  “We get married on your mountain.”

  Epilogue 1

  Ford

  One Year Later…

  Matty stands next to me, grinning just like an eleven-year-old boy ought to. The wedding is about to start, and there are about twenty people gathered, giving it the intimate and close family feel Mia and I both wanted.

  “You gonna be okay, slugger?” I ask Matty, as we wait for the pastor marrying us to walk up front. Matty is my best man, and Tallie is Mia’s maid of honor. “You’ll have a whole week with Grandma and Grandpa, all alone, when Mia and I are on our honeymoon.”

  Matty nods. “Yep, can’t wait! Grandpa said he’ll pay me if I polish all the balls in the bowling alley.”

  “Sounds like a plan, little man.”

  “Not so little,” he says puffing out his chest, his suit making him look older than he is. Though the truth is, he has gained about five inches this year. Soon enough, he’ll be taller than his sisters.

  The last year has been one for growing, to say the least. For all of us. The inspirational word the mayor gave me has become the theme of my life.

  In a good way.

  In a fucking perfect way.

  Mia, Matty, and I moved to Colorado the week Tallie moved to Paris to finish high school. I stood with Mia as the Mid-Manhattan Hotel closed its doors, Mr. Roller wiping tears as he handed the keys to the new owners of the property. We left the city, knowing the next time we were there the boutique hotel would be long gone, and a condo building in its place.

  Matty started school and we settled into our new life. My parents opened their arms to the new addition to the family, and Matty became like a grandson to them. They realized that it was Mia who opened my heart, giving me the strength to make amends with them. They love her like a daughter.

  The relationship helped a lot in the healing. Cedric is gone, and Matty isn’t his replacement, but he gives them so much joy every time he’s around. It’s bittersweet, in some ways, but in others, it’s just a plain old blessing.

  The pastor of my parents’ church smiles at me, and I pull my shoulders back, ready to see my bride.

  She wouldn’t let me peek, and even though we are marrying on our property, she kicked me out of the house yesterday, saying seeing me on our wedding day was bad luck. Mia and Tallie did God knows what in the house with Karis and Jaimie, who had flown in earlier in the day. Something about a waxing kit and final touches on the wedding gown.

  I stayed clear after that. Matty and I pitched a tent last night, roasted marshmallows and watched for shooting stars.

  The music begins, a cellist setting the stage for us to share our vows. Wildflowers were planted all around the property for this day, and there are more than the eye can see. The sun shines across a blue sky and Tallie walks down the aisle, smiling at everyone, a bouquet of flowers in her hand.

  I know about the details because Mia planned this day out using Post-it notes for months and has consulted me on colors and preferences. She put her skills to work as she coordinated the caterers and the invitations, the music, and the attire. She may no longer be running a hotel, but she has managed to make my life a thousand times easier since moving here.

  And not just with the wedding planning. She went to work on my office straightaway, making my calendar digital and fielding the requests to install pieces around the globe. After people saw my sculpture in Central Park, the invitations streamed in.

  But we were selective, only agreeing to projects that I could build here at home and have shipped.

  The priority was settling down together in our new home, not traveling the world. God knows I needed to be here, in my cabin, with my fiancée. And Matty deserved to get to know his new town, too.

  Now though, after a year together in Colorado, we are taking a honeymoon out of state. She picked the location and we are headed to Alaska, staying at a small place in the middle of nowhere: Grayson Lodge. Mia emailed the lodge owners, Delta and Boone, and we have the run of the place for the week. They’ve coordinated a private fishing trip for us and everything.

  But first, we have the wedding.

  The music turns to the Butterfly Waltz by Brian Crain. When Mia suggested it, I knew it was perfect — the only song for her.

  And now everyone stands, turning to face my bride.

  Her face is bright, her eyes filled with light, and I am so damn proud of her. She’s grieved the loss of her mother and can start a new family with me, full of love and happiness. I will be the man who can offer her that, unconditionally.

  I would have stayed in the city for her and Matty, a thousand times over, but it didn’t end up being their forever home. It was the place where they grew into the people they are today.

  Before me now, my bride looks so damn gorgeous, her dress designed by Proving Grounds—and I love how willing she is to support the people she cares about. She doesn’t hold too tightly to things. She knows what truly matters.

  The ceremony begins, and I’m fucking honored to be chosen by her.

  When the pastor asks me to kiss my bride, I pull back the veil, staring into the eyes of the woman I love. When I met her, her green eyes reminded me of my mountain home.

  But now it’s more than that. Mia is my home.

  Epilogue 2

  Mia

  Five Years Later…

  I feel sick. Which has been pretty typical the last night nine months. People who say morning sickness happens in the morning are liars. And the people who say it ends after the first trimester? Those people are liars too.

  My due date is next week, and of course, I’m excited to be holding my first baby, but I’m mostly focused on the fact I will no longer be nauseous 24/7. I know I’ll be trading my nausea for leaking breasts and sleepless nights, but right now I’m okay with that. Short-sighted, maybe, but right now the idea of getting sick is terrifying.

  I’m getting ready to walk across the stage. I’m in my cap and gown—my burgeoning belly stretching the polyester thin. I concentrate on each step. I do not want to upchuck on the shoes of the college president.

  “Mia Thatcher.” My name is called, and I step forward, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. Tripping would be worse than vomit. Smiling, I walk across the stage to take my diploma, tears filling my eyes.

  It may have taken nine years to get a college degree, but I did it. I now have a degree in land
scape design. A little unconventional, but it makes me crazy happy. Once I moved to Colorado, I became a little obsessed with planting flowers on our massive property. It started because I wanted to grow my own flowers for our wedding and it soon spiraled from there.

  I realized it is a degree. And I have learned so much about horticulture and design since I began my coursework. Since I had to pretty much start my classes from scratch, it’s taken me some time to finish. It’s as far from hotel management as I could get, but I would never have found this passion had I stayed in one place.

  And now, here I am. About to have a baby and finally finishing my education. Ford supported me every step of the way, and Matty did too.

  And the crazy thing is, later this summer Tallie will be graduating with her four-year degree, too. Of course, hers is from DILA, the Design Institute of Los Angeles, where she and Karis have been roommates for the past four years.

  The college president reaches out to hand me my diploma, and just when I think I made it through the ceremony in one piece, I feel a trickle down my leg. And for a frenzied moment, I fear I’ve really gone and done it. Peeing myself is a thousand times worse than throwing up.

  But then there is a pop. A burst. And my eyes go wide, diploma in hand, as a gush of water escapes me.

  Breaking your water at your college graduation may be embarrassing for some people, but not me. I scream in shock and glee and absolute excitement.

  “Ford, it’s time!” I yell as he rushes toward the stage. His eyes are wild with concern, but I’m not worried.

  This is the moment we’ve been waiting our entire lives for.

  He wraps his arm around me as people rush with towels to clean up the mess, but I just smile, letting Ford lead the way.

  I’m headed to the hospital to have my baby as a college graduate. This day couldn’t be better if we tried.

  Of course, I was wrong.

  The day got so much better. Better in ways I never believed or quite understood.

  I gave birth at 6:12 in the evening to a healthy, 8lb 6oz baby girl. She looks like Ford and she looks like me and she looks like heaven.

  She looks like ours.

  “What should we name her?” I ask my husband, our daughter cradled in his arms. Ford looks so handsome, his beard still as sexy as ever, his signature flannel shirt rolled up to his elbows and now, holding a baby? My heart is about to melt.

  We hadn’t known if we were having a boy or girl, and we never quite got our name list narrowed down to one.

  “How about Mariposa? It’s Spanish for butterfly,” he suggests.

  He already knows my answer. The name says it all.

  If there was anything I could possibly wish for my baby girl is that she never gets too comfortable in her cocoon that she doesn’t try to flap her wings and break free.

  Because there is an entire world out there, waiting for her.

  All she needs to do is fly.

  Epilogue 3

  Ford

  Ford and Mia’s Ten-Year Wedding Anniversary…

  Mia walks out of the bathroom, a tiny robe barely covering her ass.

  Good.

  She lowers her chin, lifts her eyes, teases me by opening the robe ever so slightly.

  “You want more of this, my mountain man?” she asks, walking closer to the edge of the bed where I sit naked and ready.

  “You know I do, baby,” I tell her. “I want to see it all.”

  She smiles, her long dark hair covering her shoulders, and when she eases off the robe, her locks cover her perfect tits.

  “Damn, woman,” I growl, pulling her hips to me, her pussy scent drawing me near. I need her now. “You are so fucking beautiful.”

  “Shhh,” she says, threading her fingers through her hair. “I’m not, I’m a total—”

  I slap her ass playfully. “Don’t go there, Mia. You’re perfect.” Ever since she gave birth to our twin boys a year ago she has been hard on herself. “Your body may have changed, but Mia, I love it. I love you. I wouldn’t change a single thing about you.”

  She twists her lips and I know she has a hard time accepting this. But it’s the truth. I love Mia more than I did the day we met, the day we married, the day Mariposa was born, and the day Tate and Otto came into the world. How that’s fucking possible is beyond me. Yet my heart just keeps expanding.

  “Listen to me,” I tell her. “We came all the way up here, to this remote lodge where we spent our honeymoon, just to take our time and enjoy one another. To relax and let the stress of life fade away,” I say. “So, let me take care of you right now, Mia. God knows you’ve done enough to take care of me and the kids.”

  “The kids.” Mia exhales. “Did you think they miss us?”

  “I think they’re fine. Auntie Tallie has them.”

  “And that is supposed to ease my worry?” She laughs, running a hand through her hair as I begin to plant kisses on her skin.

  “Mia, it’s okay. Mathias is there too.”

  “I know, but he’s a twenty-one-year-old kid. He’s focused on meeting girls during his college break.”

  “It’s gonna be okay,” I tell her again, pulling her onto the bed, unable to stay away from her bare body for another moment. “Now did you want to keep talking about babysitters or focus on you and me?”

  She gives me a sheepish smile and reaches for my cock, running her hand up and down my hard and ridged length. “Sorry. I just—”

  “I know,” I say, smoothing down her hair and looking into her eyes, wanting to give her my full attention, even though I’m distracted by the way she moves her hand over my thick cock. “You care. And worry. And that is why I love you.” I lay her on her back and lean over her. Her soft skin melts against mine, and my cock is so hard for her; so ready for a week at this familiar lodge to celebrate the love of my life.

  “Oh, that feels good, Ford,” she sighs as I run my tip up and down her warm pussy.

  “God, you feel so wet,” I tell her, kissing her breasts, licking her perfect nipples.

  “I know, I’m so hot for you,” she whimpers as I press my cock inside her. Our bodies are in sync, the years have only given us more practice to fall in love, to fall in motion.

  I press myself fully inside of her, and she moans, pleasure rippling over her. “This is everything,” she purrs. “This, Ford. This alone.”

  We make love, her body so receptive to my touch, the two of us intuitively know what the other needs before we ask. I thrust deep inside of her, knowing she likes it hard, and she kisses my ear, blowing hot air against me as I give her what she needs.

  “Oh, Mia,” I groan, coming inside of her, filling her up with all I have to give.

  “I need you again,” she moans, already moving to her hands and knees, begging me to come inside her pussy. I run my hand over her, dipping a finger into her cunt, her clit nice and swollen, and needy for more. My cock is still hard for her, and press myself into her, her fingers digging into the pillow under her, and she arches her back, as I thrust into her. My hands are on her hips, my balls slapping her pussy just the way she likes.

  She comes fast, loving it from behind and I pull out, wanting to come on her tits. She rolls onto her back as I straddle her, she presses her breasts together, fitting my thick cock between the pair.

  “Fuck me, Ford,” she begs. As I do, her hands grab my ass and squeeze.

  I got so goddamn lucky the day I saved the life of the mayor’s son all those years ago. Saving that life saved me too. Mia pulled me from the shadows and gave me a reason to live.

  She may be my wife of a decade, but she still has that same fire she did the night we first made love, worlds away, in the Mid-Manhattan Hotel.

  Sneak Peek

  Ordered By the Mountain Man

  Interested in the lodge where Ford and Mia spent their honeymoon?

  You can read all about it in Boone and Delta’s romance!

  Prologue

  Grabbing the Prosecco from the fridge, Everl
y finds three mason jars, pops the cork, and divvies up the bubbly. The goal tonight is to forget the reality of the situation she and her two best friends have found themselves in.

  Homeless. Jobless. Boy-less.

  Champagne will certainly help the cause.

  “Is that the last bottle?” Delta asks, as Everly balances all three glasses in her hands and walks back into the living room.

  Everly moans as she delivers the drinks. She’s wearing her hair in a messy bun and her nerd-girl glasses contribute to her low-key appearance. But tonight she isn’t acting low-key. Tonight she is dramatic and drunk.

  A dangerous pairing for any twenty-two-year-old woman.

  “The state of my checking account was so depressing I was like, eff it, and bought two more bottles,” she says.

  “That’s what I love about you, Everly,” Delta snorts. “You’re just so damn responsible.” She takes the glass from Everly’s hand and sets it on the coffee table before screwing the cap back on a bottle of eco-friendly nail polish. She’s just painted daisies on her big toes, as if declaring herself the ultimate flower child. Her long hair and boho dress complete the look. She’s a vegan, through and through, and living in Portland, Oregon makes her lifestyle easy.

  Clinking the rims of their glasses, Everly takes a long sip. “I know, it’s hard to be such a put-together adult, but somebody has to do it.” She smirks, knowing she’s anything but put-together.

  “No, but like, for reals, what are we going to do?” Amelia, who is braiding her hair, asks. She’s in ratty sweats and a tank top, but she gets a pass considering Derrick, her boyfriend of four years, just broke up with her. “I mean, all of us were legit counting on staying at Derrick’s summer house for the next three months. Now we’re going to get kicked out of here in a week. Then what?”

  “Calm down. It’s all going to work out,” Everly tells her, not believing the words herself, but knowing Amelia needs the affirmation—considering she’s the one recovering from an unexpected breakup.