She’s my best friend’s widow and the only woman I’ve ever loved… Cherished By the Mountain Man by Sadie King ➱ Book Sale with Rafflecopter
Cherished By the Mountain Man
Wild Heart Mountain: Military Heroes Book 5
by Sadie King
Genre: Mountain Man Military Romance
She’s
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.
Authors
note: Cherished by the Mountain Man is a steamy instalove novella
that can be read in about two hours. If you love a quickie, then dive
on in!
Loved By the Mountain Man
Wild Heart Mountain: Military Heroes Book 1
He’s
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!!**
Cherished by the Mountain Man
The industrial dishwasher hums behind me as I wipe
down the bar one last time. I’ve swept the floor, and the tables are wiped and
reset for dinner. Only one group of tourists remain, drinking craft beer as
they admire the mountain. Why the hell they aren’t on the mountain on a crisp
spring day like today instead of spending their afternoon drinking, I’ll never
know. But I should be thankful; it’s thirsty tourists like these that keep
Angie’s Bar running.
I glance at the clock, and it’s after three. The
kitchen is closed for the afternoon while the chef preps for the evening shift
and tidies up out back.
Angie and the kids will arrive soon. I do a last check
that everything’s clean and tidy for her so she doesn’t have any additional
stress.
The door bursts open, bringing a blast of fresh air
with it as Fran runs to the bar.
“You’re lying, Jamie. That was so my pencil case.”
The tourists in the corner glance up at the sudden
intrusion of school children.
Fran stomps across the bar to a booth in the family
area with her arms folded and a scowl on her face.
“Don’t be such a baby.” Her brother saunters in, all
gangly pre-adolescent arms and dark hair, the mirror image of his father at
that age apart from the frown on his face. Paul was always smiling. He was
always cheerful, and it breaks my heart to see his son so sullen.
A pang of guilt pierces my chest.
Give them a happy life.
Paul’s final words haunt my thoughts as I watch the
siblings’ argument play out.
Angie comes in a few moments later, her arms laden
with shopping bags. There’re lines around her eyes and a permanent crease
between her eyebrows that I long to smooth out. Her blonde hair is tied back in
a practical ponytail, and I’m itching to untie it and let her locks flow freely
the way she wore her hair when we were younger.
But we’re not young now.
Being a single mom, a widow, and a business owner has
taken its toll on Angie. Her shoulders are hunched more than they should be and
her blue eyes carry a worried look, but she’s still as gorgeous as the moment I
first laid eyes on her.
Angie still makes my heart thunder in my chest every
time she walks into the room.
I rush to take the shopping bags off her, and she
gives me a grateful smile. My heart melts at the way she looks up at me.
“Thanks, Corbin.”
Her eyes briefly sparkle before a shout from across
the room draws her attention to the kids.
She strides across to the booth where they’ve dumped
their school bags. I can’t hear what she’s saying, but based on the gestures
and low tone of her voice, they’re getting one hell of a telling off. By the
time she’s finished, the kids are both sitting in the booth quietly with their
homework in front of them.
The tourists are staring, and Angie gives them a
friendly smile as she crosses the room.
“Welcome to Wild Heart Mountain. You enjoying your
stay?”
She enters into a brief conversation with the customers
while I take the supplies out back. I hand the bags over to Miguel the chef and
help him put the food away.
When I return to the bar, Angie has brought more bags
from the car.
“I’m just gonna run these upstairs, Corbin, and then
I’ll come back and take over.”
“Take your time, Angie. Make yourself a coffee and
relax. I’ve got this.”
“You’ve a life saver, Corbin. I don’t know what I’d do
without you.”
I’ve been helping Angie out at the bar ever since I
came back from the military. I promised Paul I’d look after his wife and kids,
and that’s what I’ve been trying to do.
The hardest part is keeping my feelings for Angie from
showing. I’ve spent so many years with my heart tucked up and hurting that the
pain has become part of how I live.
One of the group of tourists comes up for another
round, and we chat about their plans while I pour the drinks. The man is rosy
cheeked, and he gushes about the beauty of this place.
I pour his drinks and then head over to see the kids.
“Hey Uncle Corbin.”
Fran looks up from the coloring book she’s working on.
It’s a robot coloring book, and she’s using the metallic markers I got her for
her birthday.
“Hey baby girl.”
Fran’s seven years old, but I still think of her as
the baby. Fran was just one year old when her daddy passed away. She didn’t
know Paul, but I’ve done my best to keep his memory alive for her.
Her brother was four, and the loss hit him harder.
“How did the science project go?” I ask Jamie.
He keeps his eyes on the book he’s reading.
“Good.”
Jamie worked on his science project all weekend, and I
helped him glue the planets together. He took it into school this morning
nervous for the presentation.
“Just good? Did you present today?”
“Yeah.”
“What did the teacher say?”
“She said it was good.”
Jeez, it’s like pulling teeth getting this one to
talk.
“What did she like about it?”
He puts his book down and turns his attention to me.
“She liked that I included all the dwarf planets and
not just the big ones.” His face lights up for the first time since he got back
from school. “She said my research was thorough, especially about the moons in
Jupiter and which ones we might find life on.”
A smile creeps across my face.
“That’s awesome, dude. I know you put so much work
into it.”
It was a shock to me when Jamie turned out to love
books and science. His father was the most charismatic man I’ve ever met. Paul
could talk to anyone and light up any room. Paul loved sports. He was the
school quarterback and played baseball in the summer. Paul was all action and
high energy, but his son didn’t inherit those genes.
Jamie is as quiet as Paul was loud. He’s often got his
head buried in a book, and science is his favorite subject at school.
I used to take him out to kick a ball around, but I
finally had to concede that he’s not interested in sports. I tried to think
about what Paul would want for his son. Would he want him to follow in his
footsteps, be athletic and have a military career? But I concluded he’d want
Jamie to follow his own passions, whatever those might be.
So I’ve helped Angie encourage him in those areas. I
helped him with the science project he put together in the restaurant while
Angie worked.
Jamie may look like the spitting image of his father,
but that’s where the similarities end. He’s a different kid, but I hope one his
father would be proud of.
I spend the next hour helping the kids with their
homework while Angie takes over the bar.
She preps for the evening shift, and I stay until five
when the night staff arrives.
“All right, kids, time to go.”
She looks weary, and I ache to take her in my arms and
smooth her worries away. But as usual I push my feelings down, smiling at the
kids as they pack up their things.
“What’s for dinner, Mom?” Fran asks.
“I don’t know, honey. Something simple tonight.”
“Not beans on toast again.” Fran scrunches up her
nose.
“Do we have any lasagna left over?” Jamie asks
hopefully.
Once a week I make something for Angie and bring it
around. She’s too busy to make the kids homemade meals. I wasn’t a cook before I
left the military, but in those first few grief stricken years, Angie wasn’t
eating properly and so I stepped in.
“I’m making shepherd’s pie this week; I’ll drop one
off tomorrow.”
Angie gives me a grateful look. “You don’t have to
keep doing that, you know.”
“I know. But if I don’t make sure you all eat
properly, Paul will kill me when I get to heaven.”
She smiles, and her smile can still make butterflies
flutter in my chest.
“Why don’t you join us for dinner tonight. I’ve got
nuggets and fries in the freezer. It’s not much, but….” She shrugs her
shoulders. “It would be nice to feed you after all you’ve done for us today.”
I shake my head. Even though I want nothing more than
to go upstairs to Angie’s apartment above the bar and sit across from her at
the dinner table, to watch her eat and listen to the kids chatter, it would be
crossing a line.
I promised Paul I’d look after Angie and the kids. I
help at the bar, I help with homework, I try to be a strong male influence in
their lives. But breaking bread at the dinner table is a step too far. I’m
afraid I wouldn’t want to leave. That it would be too cozy and intimate and
feel too much like a family. I’m afraid that I’d give in to my desires and tell
Angie how I feel.
I promised Paul I’d look after his wife; it would be a
disgrace to his memory to make a move on her.
So as always, I shrug off dinner while promising to
bring something homemade for them to eat tomorrow.
Angie gives me a kiss on the cheek, and for one
glorious moment I catch a whiff of her peppermint bodywash and feminine aroma.
I breathe deep, savoring her scent and the brush of
her lips on my cheek. It was a chaste kiss, but I’ll cling to the memory of it
when I’m alone in bed tonight.
With a smile plastered on my face, I watch as the
three people I love more than anything in the world head home without me.
Loved by the Mountain Man
My eyes fly open, and I sit up in bed. A
luxurious king size bed with the softest blankets I’ve ever slept in.
I’m not at home. I’m not in the little
two-bedroom apartment I shared with my sister. I’m in a cabin in the middle of
the woods, and my very own mountain man is singing in the kitchen.
I slump back on the pillows with a wide grin
on my face. This is better than home.
This is your new
home.
I shake the thought out of my head. I’m here
for an adventure, not to fall in love.
Too late…
Luckily Kobe walks in at that moment, and I
don’t have to keep arguing with my inner self. That girl doesn’t know when to
shut up sometimes.
“You like bacon and eggs?”
He looks even better in the light of day than
he did last night, if that’s at all possible. Maybe it’s because he’s carrying
a large tray of food, which will always win me over.
My stomach growls and I throw my arms over
it, embarrassed. Between dribbling, cheese stuck to my face, and the loudest
stomach ever, he must think I’m gross.
Kobe chuckles. “Thought you’d be hungry after
last night.”
Thoughts of last night flood my brain. Kobe’s
wicked tongue and the way I wantonly drapped my leg over his shoulder, grinding
myself onto his face like a dog in heat.
I put my hands over my eyes and groan,
embarrassed that I let myself go so completely.
Kobe slides the tray onto the bed and sits
down.
“What are you hiding from, Sleeping Beauty?”
I love the nickname that he’s given me, and I
peep out at him from between my fingers just in time to see apprehension
flicker across his face.
“Do you regret it?”
Do I regret having so many orgasms I couldn’t
stand straight?
“No.”
I smile shyly and Kobe relaxes, making me
think I imagined the apprehension.
“Eat.”
Kobe slides the tray toward me, and I fall on
it hungrily, putting bacon slices between two thick pieces of bread and
lavishing it with ketchup.
“Mmm, this is good.”
Not only has Kobe given me several orgasms,
but last night he made my favorite dinner and today my favorite breakfast. This
man is just too perfect.
Foreboding clenches my gut, and I almost
choke on my sandwich.
Maybe this is what Trish felt when she met douchebag. Maybe it’s easy to woo a woman with food and orgasms, and the next thing you know you’re pregnant and stuck with an asshole.
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.
Keep in touch when you sign up for her newsletter. You’ll even snag yourself a free short romance! www.authorsadieking.com/free
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This looks like a great novel!
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