by Madison Faye
His Runaway Mountain Bride
Blackthorn Mountain Men, Book 10
Madison Faye
Contents
His Runaway Mountain Bride
Preface
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Epilogue
Lost Devils
Also by Madison Faye
Mailing List
About the Author
Copyright Notice
Copyright © 2019 Madison Faye
Cover: Coverlüv Book Designs
Photography: Wander Aguiar
Models: Zack Salaun
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His Runaway Mountain Bride
Thick badge, big gun, fond of handcuffs.
One sassy little thief is about to get all tangled up with the growliest, most alpha law-man on Blackthorn Mountain.
And it’s not just the arm of the law that’s long and hard…
First she was my bride, now she’s my fugitive. I was a rough, stone-cold cop when she said “I do”—driven hard to hunt, to seek, to lock down. And Lucy was the tempting little firecracker in my black and white, right or wrong world.
Except there was more to Lucy than met the eye, and pretty soon, her sins and the law tore us apart. And for two years, I’ve been looking for my runaway bride.
But now, I’ve found her, hiding out on Blackthorn Mountain. Gorgeous, sassy, headstrong and temping as fuck. I’m supposed to drag her bratty little ass to jail. But when I get my first look, feel, and taste of her in two damn years, no duty or law in this word is going to keep me from taking back what’s mine.
She owes money to some very, very not nice people, and they’re out for blood. But there’s more trouble than that brewing on Blackthorn Mountain. Every demon, every buried secret, every loose thread—every one of the outlaws up on the mountain’s past is coming for them, and the battle for Blackthorn is about to hit hard.
If these bastards want Lucy? Well, they’re going to have to come through me first. And if they want Blackthorn Mountain?
Well, they’re about to learn that outlaw mountain hits back even harder.
Lucy ran from me once. It’s not going to happen again.
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This is a standalone story. The books in Blackthorn Mountain Men series can be read in any order.
As with my all my books, this one is safe, with no cheating and a HEA guaranteed.
Preface
Claiming His Mountain Bride, book 1 of The Blackthorn Mountain Men series, was written at the very end of 2017—finished somewhere between stuffing myself on Thanksgiving and rushing to do last minute Christmas shopping. When I wrote it, I had no freaking idea where it would lead, or what it would become. And yet, somehow, I knew it was different.
I’d written series before, and I have since, and I’ve honestly loved every single one of them, as I’ve quite sincerely loved all of my books. I hope that doesn’t come across as vain, because I think it’s important for any writer, no matter what they’re writing, to love the words they’re creating. Otherwise, what’s the point?
If you’re a fan of my books, you’ll know by now that mid-length, especially steamy novellas are kind of my jam. And Claiming was exactly that. But, it also had something else to it, and it took me a long time and many, many books in the series later to figure it out. And what I eventually realized was that the world of Blackthorn Mountain just felt bigger than the stories in the books. It was an entire world—a fantasy or some kind of rugged fairytale —that just called to people in a special way that I still can’t quite explain. But I don’t think I have to, especially to you. After all, if you’ve made it this far through ten (wow!) Blackthorn books, well, I’m guessing you “get it” just fine.
His Runaway Mountain Bride was originally intended to be released in July of 2019. Fate, or bad luck, or who knows what, however, intervened, and instead, Amazon decided to remove all of my books from their store—reasons to this day still unclear—and ban me from their platform.
I. Was. Gutted.
I’d worked somewhere between 80-100 hours a week for years to get myself to where I was. And being “cut” like that felt like being fired and dumped at the same time. For a time, I did actually walk away. I did a lot of gardening, I binged The Great British Baking Show, and I read a lot of books. But, what kept pulling me back were readers like you. There was the initial support, which was amazing, but then, it just kept coming. And coming. And coming. I was getting mountain of emails a day asking about where I’d be publishing next, or when this book or that book would be releasing. And the more people who asked, the more I knew I wasn’t done. And I sure as hell wasn’t walking away because a bunch of douchebags at an evil corporation that doesn’t think it needs to pay taxes or it’s employees’ healthcare said so. That would be letting Darth Vader win, and honestly, fuck that.
So, that’s all to say, at long last, book 10 in the Blackthorn Mountain Men series is here, and it is without question and without a trace of pandering, due entirely to readers like you.
From the very bottom of my heart, thank you for reading, thank you for wanting more of this series and of me as an author, and thank you for your eagerness, your hunger for more words, and your support.
May we all find our very own Blackthorn Mountain.
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Love,
Madison Faye
December 16th, 2019
1
Rowan
She ran from me once.
…It wasn’t going to happen again.
My breath plumed in the dark interior of the Jeep, my eyes narrowing as I peered through the creeping frost towards the bar. The lights were dim inside, but I could still see her through the lettering that read “The Pines” on the big picture window out front. I watched as she turned and smiled at a couple sitting on the other side of the bar, passing them some change and smiling again as they got up and waved. She was blonde now. That was a change. But I knew damn well, even from my spot across the frozen parking lot, that those blue eyes were exactly the same as I remembered.
And fuck did I remember.
I remembered it all, and I remembered everything about her. Blue eyes, long, hazel-streaked brown hair. Legs that I could spend all fucking day between, an ass I could hold forever, and lips I could kiss for the rest of my days. And that’d been the plan, too, until she was gone.
That was two goddamn years ago, and for two years, I’d hunted for her—her, my runaway bride. She was good at hiding her tracks and keeping herself hidden but finding people who don’t want to be found was my job, and I was damn good at it. And that’s what’d brought me there, to the frozen bar parking lot up on a mountain in December.
My wife.
I’d lost
more than just face when she bounced. I’d lost my heart, too. I’d lost a piece of my soul. I mean, shit, I’d always known we came from different worlds. When she and her family moved to Lockton my senior year of high school. There I was the blonde quarterback on his way to an ivy league education on a fucking crew scholarship. And then there was Lucy—wild-eyed, rule-breaking, wrong-side-of-the-track Lucy Cole.
It was her brother and I who actually hit it off first. Shepherd might’ve been a shoplifting, cigarette-smoking, motorcycle-driving poster-boy for a troubled background. But that kid could take a hit on the football field and keep on ticking. Football was the catalyst, and once we got over our different backgrounds, he and I were best friends.
But Lucy hit me like a car crash outta nowhere. Her, I never saw coming, though I should have. But once she hit, fuck me. I was done. I wasn’t looking for it either. I mean this was my buddy’s little sister, after all. She was a kid when I left home, but when I came back after college and one year of the academy, she wasn’t a kid anymore.
Not even fucking close.
I came back, and Lucy Cole had grown the fuck up. One look, and I knew I never wanted to even look at another girl. And I never did. I claimed her, I married her, and I made her mine. And we had it all.
…Until we didn’t.
It wasn’t easy to find her, but that night, for the first time in years, I was looking right at her. I’d played out every damn scenario in my head for why she ran, and I’d even got a few I was pretty certain about. But that night, I was going to find out the truth. And this time, she wasn’t going to run from me again.
I watched as her bar patrons slowly finished their last rounds and headed out into the cold night. This wasn’t my first time on the mountain, but last time I was there, months before, it’d been summer. Back then, I’d been chasing a lead for an investigation. It wasn’t until months later that my other hunt, for Lucy, pointed me to the same place, and I realized she’d been right under my damn nose that first time.
But, that night, I was back. And this time, I wasn’t going to be leaving without her.
My Lucy. My everything. My heart. My wife.
The bar began to empty entirely, and I watched as she reached behind the resister for something. The outside lights illuminating the main sign for the bar and restaurant went dark, and my pulse quickened. It was almost time. For the first time in two years, I was going to look her in the eye. And touch her. And God help me, taste those perfect lips of hers.
My eyes followed her as she climbed up on the back-bar to start cleaning off bottles up on the shelves. Her jeans pulled tight across that sweet little peach of an ass, and even in the freezing fucking cold, my cock lurched between my thighs. I watched her reach up high, her t-shirt pulling away from her waist and giving me a tantalizing flash of skin. Even from my spot, my hands remembered her body like a familiar map. My cock swelled rock fucking hard, precum already dripping from my swollen head at the thought of even being in the same damn room with her.
That’s how fucking obsessed I was with her. That girl could probably make me come from just looking at me. But I was ready for much more than just looking…
I watched the last patron leave, and my pulse thundered in my ears. It was time. The cold hit me as I stepped out of the Jeep, and my jaw tightened as I looked up at the light falling of snow. Christ, this place was beautiful. I got why after months and months of bouncing around, it was there she settled, even if it was with newly blonde hair and probably a fake name.
My gaze turned back to her, through the windows, and my heart thudded as my cock throbbed. Two years ago, she ran. But tonight, in a bar on Blackthorn Mountain, she was going to be mine again. And this time, I was never going to let her go.
2
Lucy
“Night sweetheart!”
I smiled as I passed Kathy her change. “Nice to see you guys!”
“Always a pleasure, Lucy.” Frank, Kathy’s husband, smiled warmly at me through his silver beard. He patted his stomach and chuckled. “Tell Jackie and Stone that the pork chop special was goddamn heaven.”
“Frank! Language!” Kathy rolled her eyes through a smile as she elbowed her husband. She turned and winked at me. “I mean, it was pretty damn good.”
I laughed. “I’ll pass it along.”
“Please do, just as long as you also pass along that we think hiring you was the best dang thing they ever did after opening this place,” Frank chuckled.
“Better than hiring Christian?”
Christian Granger was the new-ish chef Jackie and Stone had hired a few months before. Him being on Blackthorn didn’t make a ton of sense, seeing as the guy used to run Michelin star fine-dining restaurants in big cities. But Dallas and Austin, two of the guys who lived a little more remotely up on a ridge of the mountain had known him from their old lives before coming here, and the guy was looking for a change.
And hey, if nothing else, that’s exactly what Blackthorn was good for—changes and second chances. Trust me, that I could certainly attest to.
Handsome, young, French, charismatic, and ridiculously good at what he did, it really didn’t connect why Christian was here. But I had my hunches he was running from something just the same as most people who’d found their way up here. After all, Blackthorn was also home to ex-bikers, gangers, hitmen, outlaws, and all sorts of bruised and fallen angels.
…And if we’re counting me, thieves who are in way over their head with very, very bad people.
But needless to say, whatever the reason for his being here, Christian’s farm-to-table take on using local, organic food was proving to be a hit, and The Pines bar and restaurant was killing it. So long as it kept me employed and didn’t end up attracting any annoying city “foodies,” I was more than good with it.
Frank laughed, pulling me away from my wandering mind. “Well, he keeps making pork chops like that, and he might just beat you out for my favorite. Hell, he might beat this little lady too,” he chuckled, putting an arm around his wife. Kathy gasped in mock indignation and slapped his tummy.
“Well I’d like to see your new chef best friend try and fit into all that naughty negligee of mine you like so much if he’s gonna be your new favorite.”
I hooted in laughter as Frank went bright red.
“Kathy!” he hissed, shooting me a mortified look. Kathy just giggled her ass off and beamed at me.
“Oh, Lucy’s a big girl! I know she gets it!”
Frank looked like he wanted to melt through the floor, but I just laughed. I mean hell, I just hoped I still had naughty lingerie fun in the bedroom at their age. For a moment, my mood soured at that one word: “still.” “Still” implied I was currently having bedroom fun, which was most certainly not the case. After all, it’s a little hard to get lucky when you’ve spent the last two years running away from the only man you ever wanted.
My husband.
“C’mon, let’s get out of here and let her clean up and get home, Frank.” Kathy grinned impishly. “I mean, unless you’d rather Christian and his pork chop drive you home?”
Frank just glowered red under his bushy grey beard and mumbled a “thanks again, Lucy,” as Kathy laughed and dragged him away by the arm.
“Night, Lucy!”
I waved again as the bell on the front door dinged, and then they were gone. I breathed slowly, wiping down the bar top where they’d been sitting and then turning to drop the tip they’d left in my jar. I glanced towards the end of the bar, and I started for a second. Fuck, I’d forgotten he was even here.
The man wore all black, including the long, business-style peacoat and a black knit hat. The coat and hat where neatly folded over the bar chair next to him, and same as every one of the last six or so nights he’d been here, he was engrossed in his book. He drank vodka on the rocks with a twist of lemon—three every single night, with no food. On the surface, it might have seemed normal enough—maybe a little quiet and reserved, but normal. Except, something
was very off with him.
For one, his eyes lingered too long. And he never, and I mean never, blinked. He had a pinched face, and those unblinking, dark, lingering eyes felt like they were peeling your clothes off. Or maybe even your skin. I shivered as I glanced at him sidelong. It wasn’t just the staring, either. Even the way he talked made my skin crawl. His voice was like halfway between a whisper and a whine, if that makes any sense—like something was choking him as he forced the words out. And when he said my name?
I shivered again.
Fuck, it was the stuff of nightmares. That pinched, hissed, dragged-out “Luuuucy” made my hands clammy. I had no idea what his name was since he always paid cash, but I’d started referring to him as “The Creep.” Stone and Christian had gotten wind of it two days before and were pretty concerned about me being uncomfortable, but I waved them off. Trust me, I’d dealt with plenty of creeps in my life, especially after I’d gone on the run.
But that night, for the first time since he’d started showing up, I was alone with him. The previous nights, he’d had his drinks, read his book, and left at a normal time. But that night, we were definitely closed, and he was the very last person in the place. I’d been working for Stone and Jackie long enough by then that they trusted me with a key and to lock up at night. So that time of night, it was just me at The Pines, since the kitchen staff and floor waitstaff were already gone.
I swallowed thickly as I printed his check and walked to the end of the bar.
“Hey!” I smiled, hoping it covered the shiver. “So, we’re closing up if you don’t mind! Hope everything was good toni—”
