BY THE MOUNTAIN MAN: The Complete Collection

by Love, Frankie

  He brushes me off, walking away as he takes a swig of beer. “Nah, you got it. Looks like Boone was right.”

  Not having time to worry about a sullen Mason, I focus on my job, and greet another couple with two teenage boys—the father is excited to teach his boys to fish. And then a couple that are planning on taking a few kayaking trips. Plenty more guests file in throughout the day, and once everyone is checked in I take a break and head to the dining hall to find some food for myself.

  Walking through the lodge, even covered with toxic taxidermied carcasses, I can’t help but smile. It warms my heart, seeing people so connected with each other, unplugged, looking over their itineraries as they sit on a cozy sofa or out on the deck. I notice Trey is refreshing the beverage station; men are drinking cold beers and women hold glasses of fresh iced tea. The lawn is dotted with kids of various ages running and playing. There are about one hundred guests checked in for the night, and the lodge is alive.

  Grabbing a glass of water with lemon, and a plate of veggies with hummus, I notice Boone outside on the deck. I know it’s him; his sleeves are rolled up and his arms covered in the evergreen tree tattoos. I smile, thinking about the tall trunks firmly planted in the earth, and remembering how yesterday Boone told me that being grounded somewhere was a gift. My heart spreads with gratitude as I look around the lodge, the place his family created for so many to gather. He’s right: being here now does feel like a gift.

  I stay planted on the outskirts of the dining hall, watching him speak enthusiastically about tomorrow’s fishing trip. He’s talking to a few men I remember checking in, three college buddies who haven’t connected in a decade, who all brought their families up here for a week.

  Mason sidles up next to me, beer in hand. “So what do you think of opening day?”

  “It’s so all-American. So apple pie.”

  “Right? No surprise, though. My parents were wholesome through and through.”

  “How they’d end up with you and Boone then?”

  “Boone is wholesome. I mean, he won’t win Mr. Congeniality in the lower forty-eight, but he’s the guy people call in an emergency. The one people trust.”

  My gaze returns to Boone.

  Boone smiles slowly while he speaks with the guests; he was so stressed this morning, but he’s clearly in his comfort zone now. Whatever fear he was holding about opening day seems to have vanished. Pride sweeps through my chest, knowing I played a part in that. I did my job well. I helped and, while plenty of guests flirted with me, I’m smart enough to take it in stride, to smile sweetly, and accept the compliment without encouraging them. Boone underestimated me. He may think I’m a sex toy, but I’m more than that.

  Mason takes a swig of his beer. “Word is you and Boone might not get hitched.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “Just heard Trey talking in the kitchen with some servers. Guess people are taking bets on if the hippy-vegan chick is cut out for life up here.”

  I scowl, not liking that they’re betting against me—or for me. “I can do anything I want.”

  “Damn straight, but did you tell Boone that? He likes his women to toe the line.”

  “What do you know about Boone’s women?” I ask.

  He shrugs. “Eh. I don’t know.” He laughs, annoyingly. “I mean, I may have a history of taking his women from under him. But that’s his issue, not mine.”

  “You’ve gotten Boone’s girlfriends to cheat on him with you? That’s pretty fucked up, Mason.”

  He laughs, shaking his head like this is all a joke. “I never said I was perfect.”

  I look over at Boone, seeing him more clearly than I ever have before. Boone looks for the best in people—even me. He hasn’t once flat-out made fun of me for my food choices. He didn’t say yoga itself was dumb, he just said I couldn’t do it in front of everyone on the dock when they were leaving for fishing in the morning. He didn’t tell me I couldn’t wear this dress; he was just all stressed out this morning and took it out on me.

  And I’m not making a bunch of excuses for him. When it comes down to it, Boone and I are very different. But maybe we’re also the same. Both strong-willed and determined, and looking for someone to be our best selves with.

  “Fuck, you love him, don’t you?” Mason asks, shaking his head. “Hell, that asshole gets everything he wants.”

  “Is that how you see it? Everything gets handed to him?” I ask, annoyed. “Because I’m pretty sure Boone has worked for everything he has. Can you say the same for yourself?”

  I don’t wait for an answer; he couldn’t give me a real one, anyway. Instead, I return to the lobby, ready to do the best job I can as Boone’s future wife.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Boone

  The week goes perfectly. I take guests out for fishing trips, make sure the staff are squared away, that the guests are happy. It’s fucking better than I could have hoped for.

  And the icing on the fucking cake is Delta. For some reason, she and I got through the awkward start and have found a pattern. Sure, it’s only been seven days, but we’re constantly fucking, constantly smiling, and finding a groove.

  She’s made good suggestions about ways we could improve guest relations—simple things, even, like having a before-dinner cocktail hour, tailor it to our clientele, cigars on the porch and whisky neat. And she thought that, instead of doing yoga on the dock, she could offer a yoga class a few mornings a week for the women who stayed back at the lodge during the day.

  She starts it, and after only a day the response is great. Apparently the men liked how good their wives felt, and the women felt lighter and more positive in Delta’s welcoming company.

  More than one time I’ve caught myself wishing Mom were here to meet Delta. I have no doubt they’d find plenty of common ground.

  The only annoyance is Mason’s bad attitude; he’s getting on my last nerve. He’s not even willing to help with the fishing trips anymore. He just drinks beer and flirts with staff—thankfully he has enough tact to avoid the guests, but damn.

  He isn’t interested in getting his act together at all. And it seems like Delta being here just ticks him off more, which I don’t get. Delta being here makes everything easier.

  She’s the fucking best thing that has ever happened to me.

  “You ready for tomorrow?” I ask her as we step out of the shower together. We’re running a little late, because she’s just been on her knees, sucking my cock until I came all over her gorgeous tits, and then I spanked her ass and lathered her skin with soap until she was nice and clean. Our shower was a tad longer than normal.

  “I’m okay. Just ... tomorrow is the big day.”

  “Do you still have doubts?” I ask, kissing her neck, wrapping my arms around her from behind, not believing for a second that she could.

  Delta bites her bottom lip. “We’re already running behind,” she says, raising her hands, turning to face me. There’s a smile on her face. “Let’s talk later? Okay? Like, really talk.”

  I nod, feeling a surge of adrenaline. I wanted to wait until we had more time, anyway. Tonight I’m going tell her I love her, I’m going to give her my mother’s diamond ring, and I am going to properly ask her to be my wife.

  “Until tonight, then.” I kiss her lips, hard, teasing her with my cock pressed against her belly.

  “You’re so bad, Boone,” she laughs, pulling away.

  “So bad it’s good, right?”

  “Something like that.” She laughs, drying herself off.

  Damn, I love this girl. “You know,” I say, “since you went down on me, I think I owe you a favor.” I toss her towel to the floor, pressing my fingers between her legs, causing her to moan instantly.

  “Boone,” she murmurs. “We’re so late.”

  “Fuck that,” I tell her. “You’re my woman. They can wait until your pussy is happy.”

  “Where did you come from, Boone?” she asks, as I grab her ass, lifting her up. She wraps
her legs around me and I carry her to our bed.

  “I’ve always been here, just waiting for you.” I kneel on the floor, tugging her legs to the edge of the bed, and spreading her knees so I can lick her perfect folds. Leaving kisses on her inner thigh, I press my mouth to her clit, licking her length as she sinks lower into the bed.

  “I’m here, Boone,” she sighs. “I’m here.”

  And I know she is. And tonight, we’ll make promises of forever.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Delta

  I spend the day running around, full of anxious energy. Finally, there’s a break in the work at the front desk, and I pick up the landline late in the afternoon, trying to call Everly and Amelia. I’ve been trying them all week, and never once have I gotten through.

  I just really want to check in with them, to make sure everything is okay—and also to tell them that yeah, I didn’t take this seriously before but now I do.

  Miraculously Amelia picks up the third time I call.

  “Hello?” I say. “Oh my God, Amelia. How are you?”

  The reception is spotty, I can only hear a muffled voice and every third word. “Okay ... can’t ... he won’t ... leaving....”

  “What?” I ask. “I can’t hear you.”

  “I can’t ... good ... sex.”

  It’s so frustrating, having Amelia on the phone, but not getting a clear conversation.

  “I’ll have to call Monique and get a landline to reach you. You aren’t coming through, Amelia,” I tell her, so disappointed.

  “You ... married?”

  Thinking I may have made out her words, I say, “Me? Not married yet. But tomorrow. Tomorrow I will be.” I’m smiling at the words, and the swell of emotion gives me the confirmation I need. Boone and I are going to be okay. More than okay. I never expected to really fall for someone ... but here I am, not able to imagine a life with anyone else.

  Yanking the phone from my ear, I’m startled by the sounds. I swear someone is screaming from her end.

  “You okay, Amelia? Is someone upset?”

  “Can’t ... believe ... baby ...”

  Then her line goes dead, and when I try to call her back, there’s no answer. Dammit. Did she say something about a baby?

  No freaking way.

  Sally comes into the foyer with a basket of folded bed sheets.

  “Everything okay, sweetheart?” she asks. “You look like you just heard bad news.”

  “No, not bad. For a second I thought my friend said something about a baby.” Shaking my head, I wish I’d had a clear conversation with Amelia. “Hey, are the guys back from today’s fishing trip yet?”

  “Sure are, honey.” Sally smiles as she heads to the staircase. “They’re down at the dock. Oh, and nice work with the yoga class. All the women were raving about it at lunch today.”

  I grin, loving the rush of being good at something. Finding my footing. Being grounded in the most unexpected way.

  “Thanks for telling me that, Sally.” As I walk away, I know I’m beaming. Starting the yoga class was awesome, and it went so well. It makes me see that I have a place here, a life here. It confirms everything I already know. This is my home.

  And I’m unable to wait any longer. I’ve been waiting all day. I need to talk to Boone, need to tell him how I really feel.

  I leave the foyer through the front door and take a shortcut, toward the outbuilding where most of the fishing gear is stored at the end of each day. And yes, this building makes my stomach slightly sour, mostly because of the fishy smell, but also because I’m learning that men are really just grown-up boys. They still smell, are still dirty, and still forget to lift the toiletseat.

  But damn, there is something else about living with a man that makes me hot as hell. Boone has early morning hard-ons, always ready for me; he has chiseled abs that I can rake my fingers across; he has strong hands that know exactly what they like to grab. Mostly cheeks. My ass or my face. And he loves to kiss too, often. I’d never refuse his bearded jaw rubbing against my bare skin.

  And here he is in the outbuilding, wearing a red flannel shirt, setting a fishing rod back in place. I wrap my arms around his waist, inhaling him.

  “I missed you,” I tell him breathlessly, pulling him around to face me. With eyes closed, I lean into him, raising my face to him, and he takes my chin and kisses me. A kiss that is really, really greedy. He slips his tongue in my mouth, and widens his mouth to the point it nearly inhales me. I open my eyes, surprised, because Boone is not a bad kisser. He’s not bad at anything. When our bodies collide, it’s all sparks and lights. Not ... not this.

  My eyes widen in surprise. He looks like Boone—is the same size and has the same face—but, clearly, he isn’t the man I love.

  “What the fuck, Delta? Mason?” Boone’s voice booms behind me. I pull from his—from Mason’s–arms. Oh, my God. No.

  “Mason?” I ask, covering my mouth.

  “Have you two been fucking around all week?” Boone asks me. “This whole time?”

  “Of course not! I didn’t—”

  “It makes sense. I mean, you wanted to leave when you got here, and then … what, you fucked Mason and decided you’d stick around?” He shakes his head. “I knew this was way too fucking good to be true.”

  “I never. I didn’t. Boone, don’t be insane. Of course—”

  “Right.” Boone laughs sharply, and tears well up in my eyes. How could he jump to this, assume the worst? “You just decided you no longer cared about the hundred ways we’re different and just decided to stay? For me? I’m not a fucking joke, Delta, and I can’t believe you’d make me out to be one.”

  “I can’t believe you’d think Mason and I—” I sob. “Of course I don’t think you’re a joke. I think I love you.”

  Boone just storms around, looking like he’s going to rip off someone’s head.

  And, of course, to add fuel to the fire, Mason is smirking. “Woah, bro, calm down. She just wanted a piece of me. You can’t blame her for being curious.”

  “Mason, stop that,” I cry, hysterical, so confused as to why Boone would think I would hurt him on purpose. “Boone, I thought he was you.”

  “Dude, calm down,” Mason says, not taking this seriously at all, not seeing how that insignificant kiss may have just ruined everything good I thought I had.

  “You think I’m a girl that would be with Mason?” I ask, wiping the tears that streak my face. “You really think that of me? Because, Boone, that slays me—to think you see me that way.”

  “Honey, I’m right here,” Mason says coolly, as if this is the time to play nice. “We both know I’m not that bad.”

  “Oh, fuck off, Mason,” I tell him. “Fuck off, both of you.”

  I run away from the outbuilding into the woods, tears streaming from my eyes, my heart free falling, with no one there to catch me.

  And that’s when I fall in the hole.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Boone

  Looking at Mason, I want to fucking kill him. All I can think is that he ruins every good thing. Every single decent thing.

  “Girls in college who meant nothing to either of us is one thing,” I say, “but fucking around with Delta? That is something else entirely.”

  “You won’t even stop long enough to hear the goddamn truth.”

  “You need to fucking leave, Mason. I can’t do this with you here anymore.”

  “Do what?” Mason asks. His shoulders are broad and his face firm. He looks like a mirror image of me, down to the red flannel shirt we’re both wearing. “Be the boss-man who has his shit together? Fine. Sorry to break it to you, but you can’t fix me.”

  “I don’t want to fix you,” I shout. “I never wanted to fucking fix you.”

  “Fine. Then I’ll go.” Mason throws up his hands in defeat, which is such a dick move. He’s the one making out with Delta. He’s the one who hasn’t stepped up in the past six months. Now he’s the one who walks away. He turns to leave, shak
ing his head. “I don’t know why I stayed around so long anyway. You never wanted me here.”

  “That’s bullshit. I’ve fought for you. I could’ve left you to drown in your sorrows so many times, but I stood by your side whenever you fucked up.”

  “You did that to feel better about yourself, Boone—to be the big man who makes everything right.”

  “That’s not true. You’re my only family left,” I tell him, my jaw tense, knowing he has it all fucking wrong. “You’re my brother.”

  “Yeah, but I’ve screwed you over so many times, and it’s like you won’t quit trying to save me. You won’t be happy until I’m just like you.”

  “That’s not it at all. I don’t want you to be me. You’ve got me all wrong. I don’t need people to be the exact same as me to be happy.”

  “Keep telling yourself that, Boone. But why did Delta just run off? Because you didn’t even listen to her. You didn’t give her a chance. Because all you hear is your goddamn self.”

  I don’t want to admit it, but those words hit hard. Do I want Delta to be just like me, or at least the version of a wife—of a woman—I have imagined in my head? Have I pushed her away because I was scared she was something that might possibly force me to reach outside of myself?

  Sure, things with Delta have been easy since the lodge opened, but that’s because she caved on all the things that might have caused me trouble. She’s easy-going, and solid fucking gold. She never pushed back on the yoga; she just made a plan that would accommodate everyone. She never once made a fuss about all the meat Trey kept serving. Sure, I could have made it easier on her and just agreed to have Trey make some more Delta-friendly meals, but I didn’t even budge.

  I could have removed the taxidermy animals from our room, but when Sally suggested it, I dismissed her like a fucking caveman. I expect Delta to bend in all the ways that convenience me, but what about her? I’ve never once considered the ways I might make things easier for my bride.