Cherished By the Mountain Man
Wild Heart Mountain: Military Heroes Book 5
by Sadie King
Genre: Mountain Man Military Romance
my best friend’s widow and the only woman I’ve ever loved…
Paul was my best friend, my brother in arms, and the only one of us that didn’t come back alive.
I promised if something ever happened to him that I’d look after Angie, his wife.
He doesn’t know that I’ve loved Angie for almost as long as he has.
Now she’s a single mom and running a business on her own. I sense her loneliness; I sense her need.
Angie’s off-limits, but my heart beats for her. And I don’t know how much longer I can resist this pull between us…
Cherished by the Mountain Man is a best friend’s widow forbidden love romance featuring an ex-military mountain man and the curvy single mom he cherishes.
“She’s here.” The whisper goes around the church, and necks strain to glimpse the bride.
The wedding march begins and I squeeze my clammy hands together, trying to still the butterflies in my gut. Taking a calming breath, I turn to watch the procession make their way down the aisle.
My breath catches when I see Angie. She’s a vision in a floaty white dress that hugs her generous curves. White roses decorate her hair, and a thin veil trails down her back. Her face glows with hope and happiness and her blue eyes scan the church, smiling at the guests as she passes.
Angie moves like an angel floating down the aisle. Her gaze rests on mine and I beam at her, struck dumb by her beauty. My chest constricts and my heart aches at how beautiful she looks today.
She gives me a small smile before her gaze shifts. Her eyes find Paul’s and they light up, her shy smile turning to a broad grin.
My best friend makes a choking sound deep in his throat, and for the first time in my life, I see tears at the corners of his eyes. Love shines out of them, matched only by the radiant glow coming from his bride.
She reaches the front of the church and takes her place next to Paul. I step back into the Best Man’s position while my heart squeezes itself so hard I clutch my chest.
Today I’ll pass the ring and give a speech and make sure the day is special for the two people I love most in this world. And if my heart bleeds onto the floor while I watch my best friend marry the woman of my dreams, then I’ll never let them know. Any suffering will be done quietly.
They stare into each other’s eyes, and I’m the villain for wishing it was me. They’ll be married, I tell myself. I can get over Angie and find someone of my own to love. But even as I try to convince myself, I know I’ll never get over Angie. I could search the entire world and no one will ever come close.
My smile is painted on for the rest of the ceremony. I hand over the ring and watch my best friend tie himself to the woman I love.
Loved By the Mountain Man
Wild Heart Mountain: Military Heroes Book 1
a scarred military hero. She’s the young, innocent woman forced to
spend a night in his cabin…
My unit came back to Wild Heart Mountain to heal and to hide. I’ve been doing a lot of hiding until I meet Hailey.
I’m scarred, I’m damaged, and I’m way too old for her. But the curvy and quirky Hailey makes me feel alive. She brings hope and joy back to my life.
I faced the enemy in Iraq, but it’s nothing compared to the vulnerability I feel when Hailey holds my heart in her hands. Can she see past the scars, the limp, and the age gap, or was it pity that brought her to my bed?
Loved by the Mountain Man is a forced proximity, ex-military, age gap, instalove romance featuring a scarred military mountain man and the curvy, innocent heroine who may be the healing balm that this damaged hero needs.
Authors note: Loved by the Mountain Man is a short instalove story that can be read in about an hour. If you love a quickie, then dive on in!
**On Sale! Only .99cents July 20 – 26!!**
I'm singing at the top of my lungs as my towel shimmies over my wide ass when I hear a noise in the apartment. It might be Angie bringing up a pizza for dinner. She's good like that. I don't know if it’s because she feels like she has to mother me, but I am definitely leaning into that.
I wrap the towel around me and pull open the bathroom door just as there's a loud crash.
My apartment door is wide open, and there's a man standing there. He's silhouetted against the single streetlight from the parking lot below. He looks as big as the mountain, and he's carrying an axe.
This is what my sister warned me about when I told her I was going travelling. She warned me I’d get murdered in some small town.
The man is so big he takes up the whole door frame, his broad shoulders barely fitting in the doorway. His coat hangs open, giving me a peek of a tight T-shirt and a hint of muscles, which is weird. I didn’t expect an axe murderer to be wielding such defined pecs. You never see that in the horror movies.
The man takes a step towards me, and I scream again. There's a snow globe of the mountain sitting on the dresser, and I pick it up and launch it at him.
Unfortunately, sport has never been my strong suit.
The snow globe goes so wide he doesn’t even duck. It misses the man completely and smashes through the window beside the door. The tinkling sound of breaking glass fills the silence.
“I suppose I'm gonna have to fix that window too.”
His voice is as low and rumbly as the dark clouds rolling in off the mountain and sends my nipples into hard peaks.
Axe murderers are never this sexy in the films.
But instead of moving toward me, the man-mountain slowly drops the axe. Now that I look at it properly, it's not an axe. It's a bright yellow toolbox.
He raises his hands in a placating gesture. Big hands. Rough hands. Working man's hands with calluses. The thought of those rough hands running over my skin and snagging on my nipples fills my brain so utterly that for a moment I can only gape at them.
“You're Angie's tenant, right?”
There's that voice again, low and rumbling, sending tremors through my body and causing my own personal earthquake.
He knows Angie, and I’m beginning to think he’s not here to murder me.
His eyes flick down my body. My body that's only covered in a towel.
It's a big body. I'm not complaining, but the towels here are threadbare and barely bigger than a dishcloth.
I pull the towel tighter around me, unsuccessfully attempting to cover all of my curves.
Yes,” I squeak.
“I’m Kobe,” the mountain man says. “Angie sent me to fix your door. And I guess you want that window fixed too?”
My racing heart starts to calm. He's not here to ravish me and murder me. A little part of me feels disappointed. Not at the murdering part, but a ravishing by this man? That's something I could get behind, or under as the case may be.
As realization sets in that I've just thrown a snow globe at a very sexy man who's come to do some building maintenance, my cheeks flush.
“Umm. Yeah. The lock’s broken,” I say with as much dignity as a large girl in a towel the size of a postage stamp can muster. His eyes travel down my body, and I flush under his gaze.
I'm a curvy girl and I love my body, but I can't help wondering what this man thinks of me. By the time he's taking to look me over, I have a suspicion he’s quite partial to curvy girls. Or maybe there aren’t many women on the mountain, and he is still thinking of ravishing me. My nipples perk up hopefully at the thought.
“Mind if I get to work?”
I realize I’m still staring at him, and heat rises to my cheeks.
“Sure,” I squeak. “I’m just gonna get changed.”
It's a studio apartment, and the bed takes up one wall. My open bag lies on the floor between the bed and the door, right next to Kobe.
His gaze follows mine, and the heat intensifies in my cheeks. My underwear is strewn on top of my open bag. White cotton panties with a lace trim. I snatch up the panties and quickly grab some other clothes and scurry back into the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind me. I lean on the back of the door, needing to breathe.
I don't know if it's the heating on full bore or the sexy definitely-not-an-axe-murderer man out there, but it’s suddenly burning hot in this place.
Sadie King is a USA Today Best Selling Author of short instalove romance.
She lives in New Zealand with her ex-military husband and raucous young son.
When she’s not writing she loves catching waves with her son, running along the beach, and good wine, preferably drunk with a book in hand.
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