Novel & Cerita Mountain Man Romance Novel

"I miss you every single day." Anton knelt beside me, silent but present. His hand never left mine. I took a deep breath, gathering the courage to say the words that weighed on my heart. "Mama, I found him. The man I love. The man who loves me just as much." My lips trembled as I smiled through my tears. "His name is Anton. And he… he wants to marry me." Anton squeezed my hand gently, his silent support grounding me. "You always told me to find someone who would cherish me, someone who would fight for me," I continued, my voice barely above a whisper. "And I did, Mama. He’s here. And I know if you were still with me, you’d see it, too."

Charming chuckles. “I like her.” Mountain Man simply snorts. “Watch your tone, woman.” I casually cross my right leg over my left and stifle a yawn. “Do me a favor and cut to the chase, alright? It’ll save us a lot of time. How much money do you want? I’ll cut you all a check and we can be done with this.” One-Eye glances behind him at the man seated in the shadows. It’s only for a moment, barely even a look. “We’re not after money.”

she smiled, seeming a bit embarrassed. "It's okay, Lovie. Do you have plans?" Monica asked. "None. I just got a new book," she placed the coffee on the bench and opened her bag. "Here it is." "Miss A's book?" Monica furrowed her brow. "Do you read that?" "Actually, when we discussed this a year ago, I got curious. So, I tried reading it, and it's actually good. Even her poems and short stories," Monica replied. "Let me see," Monte took the book, " 'A Man with Adventurous Love.'"

Jasper tells me, the contrast of his warm voice to the cool air, even in the car, was imminent. Romantic. Jasper wanted to take me somewhere romantic? Looking back out the window, I see that he chose the right place. The mountain towers above the main suburbs of the Love Pack, showing off its indescribable beauty with glittering lights and snow topped roofs. I wanted to be out there, getting a better look at it. How the people who live here could ever get sick of this, I don't know. "Go on," Jasper insists. "Take a look, but don't topple down the side of the mountain."

He chucks the bird onto a shelf and ambles back to the island, studiously avoiding the disaster he made of the beets. “Who says?” “Who said you could?” He’s not being a dick. It’s a genuine question. “We can go into town now if we take someone with us. There are no rules against drinking coffee.” “Coffee? What, are you going on a date with a human?” He wrinkles his nose. “No. A male from Salt Mountain.” “What’s his name?” “Lenox.” He snorts. “That’s a douchebag’s name.” “Lucan’s a douchebag’s name.” It’s not the best comeback, but comebacks aren’t exactly my forte.

She read them with Colt beside her and sometimes she read passages aloud and sometimes she did not and he never asked her to do either. The letters were the voice of a man who had been good at paying attention. He wrote about the mountains and the people in them and the specific quality of a place that had decided to be something. He wrote about Dutch and Rafe's predecessor and other people she would never meet. He wrote about riding the mountain road and what it felt like when the world was the right size. He did not write about Elena or the cavern or what he was carrying. She understood that. The letters were the life he was living, not the weight he was managing, because the weight was so

“Now this one…” He shook his head, almost impressed, almost unsettled. “This one’s mad.” He leaned back against the counter, gripping the edge of the book a little tighter. There was something about this story that didn’t feel heavy like the last one. It was still intense, but cleaner. Sharper. “Man went in for a job… came out with something else entirely,” he muttered. Adam ran a hand over his chin, thinking it through. It wasn’t about control this time. Not like before. This one felt… equal. Two people walking into the same moment for completely different reasons and meeting right in the middle of it.

Fishing a clean pair out of the bag he pulled them on and headed across the hall to the bathroom to finish the job. Closing the door, he flicked on the light and stared at himself in the mirror. It amazed him that he looked the same since he felt very different on the inside. It wasn't just the release he'd given himself. A hand job was a hand job. It was much worse than that. He was fucking falling in love with Jasmine Grey. He, Caleb Branam, a ruined man who'd grown to hate the world, who carried death with him, was falling in love with the very last woman he should. What the fuck did he do now?

I reeled back at the size and tilted my head to see the face of the person. “Uh…” “I know you said you don’t want to see my face, but I won’t stop until you listen, Ida. I brought your favorite flowers. The same one I got on our wedding night and when we---.” “What?!” My mouth moved before my head could realize it. “What are you doing here, Dean?!” I heard a panicked Ida ask behind the roses. “Wait… If you’re here and…Oh, shit!” The man finally revealed himself. Good-looking with a shoulder length hair but all I could focus on was what he had said before. I stepped out of the house and brushed past the man to Ida who could not look me in the eye.

It’s the mountain air; it’s got to be. It’s got to be something that profound that turned my normally timid lover into a fox. I’m not complaining, my dick is very happy, and the jealous rage that had been burning on a slow heat throughout the day had also been appeased.