Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 29800 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 149(@200wpm)___ 119(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29800 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 149(@200wpm)___ 119(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
Like I belong here.
Then I look back at him.
At this rough, terrifying mountain man who fought through a blizzard barehanded to get me back.
And suddenly the answer feels obvious.
I slide my arms around his neck slowly. “Okay.”
His entire body stills.
“Okay?” he repeats carefully.
“Yeah.” I smile despite myself. “I’ll marry you, mountain man.”
The look that crosses his face nearly destroys me.
Not cocky.
Not smug.
Just wrecked.
Completely.
Then he kisses me hard enough to steal the rest of my oxygen.
By the time we make it into town two days later, the entire mountain somehow already knows.
Margie screams loud enough to startle half the diner when Rhett walks in with his hand possessively locked around my waist.
“I KNEW IT!” she yells from behind the counter.
Every head in the café turns instantly.
I groan into my coffee. “I hate this town.”
“You love this town,” Rhett says.
“I tolerate this town.”
“Sweetheart, you’re marrying the town cryptid. You live here now.”
Archer nearly chokes laughing from a nearby booth while Liam shouts, “Bout damn time, Maddox,” and Jace starts demanding to know who’s taking bets on how fast Rhett gets me pregnant.
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter.
Rhett looks completely unbothered.
Actually, he looks proud.
Which should embarrass me.
Instead, warmth spreads through my chest so hard it almost aches.
Margie appears beside our booth carrying pie I definitely didn’t order.
“We need colors,” she announces.
“For what?”
“The wedding.”
Rhett takes a bite of my pie like this conversation isn’t horrifying. “Dark green.”
I stare at him. “You cannot already be planning our wedding.”
“You said yes.”
“That was thirty-six hours ago.”
“You’re behind schedule, baby.”
I kick him under the table.
He catches my knee easily, his hand sliding higher along my thigh beneath the table while his mouth curves slightly.
Possessive.
Completely shameless about it.
And the worst part?
I love it.
Because somewhere between the storm and the mountain and the terrifying man who bid on me like he already knew I belonged with him, I stopped wanting the life I left behind.
I stopped running.
And the mountain ranger who won me at the auction to protect me ended up falling first, hardest, and permanently obsessed with the woman he was supposed to keep safe.
Second Epilogue
Rhett
ten years later
The house is too quiet.
That’s the first thing I notice when I step out onto the porch carrying the picnic basket while Nora finishes grabbing the wine from the kitchen.
Ten years ago, silence used to feel normal.
Necessary.
Now it feels suspicious as hell.
No kids yelling. No doors slamming. No tiny boots stomping across hardwood floors. No twin girls arguing over who stole whose sweater while my middle son tries convincing his little brother to jump off something dangerous.
The Maddox cabin has turned into chaos over the years.
Loud, wild, beautiful chaos.
And somehow I love every second of it.
“Rhett.”
I glance over my shoulder.
And there she is.
Still the prettiest damn thing I’ve ever seen.
Nora steps out onto the porch wearing jeans, boots, and one of my flannels hanging off one shoulder, a bottle of wine dangling from her fingers while moonlight catches in her dark hair. The years softened some of her sharper edges, but not the fire underneath them. That never changed.
Thank God.
“You’re staring again,” she says.
“Been doing that for ten years.”
“And somehow you still haven’t learned subtlety.”
“Not interested in subtlety.”
Her mouth curves immediately.
Still gets me every time.
I hold my hand out automatically. “Come here.”
“You’re very bossy for someone whose children just unionized against him.”
I snort. “Those girls are yours. Don’t put that on me.”
“The boys are definitely yours though. Archer called earlier and said Hudson tried building a zipline off his roof.”
“Kid’s innovative.”
“Kid’s feral.”
I grin as she reaches me, and the second her hand slides into mine, something settles low in my chest the way it always does.
Home.
That’s what she became.
Not the cabin.
Not the mountain.
Her.
“Archer sounded scared,” she adds as we head down the porch steps together.
“Good. Builds character.”
“You traumatize your friends for fun.”
“I married a journalist from Seattle who used to yell at me for tracking her through the woods. I’ve earned hobbies.”
She laughs softly under her breath, shaking her head while we head toward Phantom River through the trees.
The trail glows silver beneath moonlight, fresh summer air warm against my skin while crickets hum through the woods around us. Devil’s Peak feels different this time of year. Softer. Wilder. Alive in a quieter way than winter.
Nora squeezes my hand suddenly. “You realize Margie told all five kids tonight that they were conceived in sinful mountain passion.”
I nearly choke laughing.
“Jesus.”
“She’s out of control.”
“You love her.”
“I absolutely do not love that woman.”
“You cried when she brought casseroles after Savannah was born.”
“She emotionally manipulated me with cheese.”
“That’s fair.”
Nora nudges my shoulder lightly. “You know she’s already planning for our daughters to marry your friends’ sons someday.”
I stop walking immediately.
“No.”
She laughs harder now. “Oh, there he is.”
“That’s not happening.”
“You literally growled.”
“I’ll kill Archer myself if one of his boys looks at my daughters wrong.”
“You are such a hypocrite.” She grins up at me. “You practically kidnapped me.”