by Nicole Casey
Ten Mountain Men’s Baby
A Reverse Harem Romance (Love by Numbers Book 9)
Nicole Casey
Contents
Love by Numbers
1. Holly
2. Ryker
3. Holly
4. Ryker
5. Holly
6. Ryker
7. Holly
8. Ryker
9. Holly
10. Ryker
11. Holly
12. Ryker
13. Holly
14. Ryker
15. Holly
16. Ryker
17. Holly
18. Ryker
19. Holly
20. Ryker
21. Holly
22. Ryker
23. Holly
24. Ryker
Epilogue
Author’s Note
Book One in the series: 2 Billionaires in Vegas
Gwen’s Story: 9 Marines’ Shared Property
Also By Nicole Casey
About the Author
Book Description
I never thought I’d be raising a baby with ten burly mountain men.
A dentist by day, my true passion is hiking. Little did I know that my six-month Appalachian adventure would lead to me falling in love with ten hot as sin men.
My heart flutters when I meet Ryker Dennison. Like me, he’s been adopted. Unlike me, he’s brave enough to search for his biological family who live in the Appalachian mountains.
Intelligent and kind, he draws me in immediately.
His dark complexion, intense gaze, and muscular body make it hard to focus on the hiking, and before long, we’re making passionate love.
With a snowstorm brewing, Ryker and I hurry to find his family. His strikingly handsome nine brothers welcome him with open arms. As for me, the sexual chemistry I feel with the ten men is all-consuming. I could watch their muscular bodies all day long. And soon, I want to do more than just watch. This should be wrong, but it feels so right.
How I can desire ten men at once is beyond me, but Ryker and the others are happy to share me.
All is going well until our reverse harem relationship is threatened.
Terrified, I make a decision that could cost me everything, especially when I discover that I’m with child.
Will I raise my baby alone or find a way to reconnect with my ten mountain men?
© Copyright 2020 by Nicole Casey - All rights reserved.
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronically, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the proper written permission of the copyright owner, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. People, places, events and situations are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or historical events, is purely coincidental.
Love by Numbers
- A Reverse Harem Romance Series
2 Billionaires in Vegas
3 Bosses’ Assistant
4 Ranchers’ Bride
5 Mafia Captors’ Virgin
6 Single Dads’ Nanny
7 Groomsmen from Hell
8 Brothers’ Fiancee
9 Marines’ Shared Property
10 Mountain Men’s Baby
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1
Holly
If you’re kind and respectful to people, I find, a lot of unexpected, yet pleasant, opportunities can open up to you. If you’re kind and respectful to people, and you come at them with a drill aimed at their mouth, the opportunities that open up to you are all the more unimaginable.
I started another anything-but-routine day at my dental practice with a simple teeth-whitening session for the head of one of the biggest banks in San Diego. Despite my hand in his mouth and a pick scraping at his teeth, he still tried to flirt with me—perhaps it was because I had my hand in his mouth and was scraping at his teeth with a pick that he flirted with me. With bankers, you never can be sure. Between gargles and spits, he told me about the yacht he’d recently purchased. After the session, he handed me his card and told me to call him if I ever wanted to sail to Hawaii with him.
There was little to no chance I was going to take him up on that. Not because I’d just seen him lying in my chair, a bib on his chin and spitting into a bowl every few minutes—though that didn’t improve his chance—but mainly because of the wedding band on his finger. That was a deal-breaker.
Sandy, my over-efficient receptionist, pulled the phone down to her chest and turned to me. “I bumped your eleven o’clock back a half hour. Mrs. Freedman has an emergency. She’s in the waiting room now.”
I didn’t have the time to respond before Sandy had resumed her phone call. I put on a smile and stepped into the waiting room. “Mrs. Freedman.”
She held the right side of her jaw in one hand and her clutch in the other. Despite the expertly applied make-up, the designer threads, and the fresh-from-the-salon coif, I could tell she was in bad shape.
“Right this way, Mrs. Freedman.” I gave her a sympathetic smile as she entered my surgery.
“The right side of my mouth is all puffed up,” she said. “And it kills. It really kills.”
“Have a seat, Mrs. Freedman. Let me have a look.”
Undoubtedly, she was in a lot of pain. I’d seen this countless times before—an untreated abscess that’s led to significant tooth decay. I applied a local anesthetic, and within minutes she relaxed and breathed a sigh of relief.
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to remove the tooth.”
“Good,” she said, to my surprise, “that tooth has been a pain for weeks. I’ll be glad to get rid of it.”
“I wish you had come to see me sooner.”
“Honey, I have been so busy I haven’t even had time to see my own shadow.”
With her mouth half-numb and fully open and my fingers working on loosening her tooth, she continued talking. “If I say no to a charity, I end up feeling guilty. Then the next few weeks, I’m double and triple booked. Then I inevitably have to cancel a few fundraisers, which has me feeling guilty again. And the cycle just repeats and repeats.”
Mrs. Freedman had been coming to me for her dental needs since I first opened my practice nearly four years ago. She was one of my first patients. Actually, it was largely thanks to her that my practice had thrived as much as it had. Mrs. Freedman was a prominent figure in San Diego’s bustling social scene: an influencer, a fundraiser, a champion of many worthy causes. Word of mouth can get you a lot of business, especially if that mouth belongs to Felicity Freedman.
“Well, I’m afraid your mouth will be a bit sore for a couple of days,” I told her. “You might not want to, but it would be advisable to take it easy for the next couple of days, at least.”
“Doctor’s orders?”
I smiled and cocked my head to the side. “I couldn’t give you orders, Mrs. Freedman. Let’s call it a suggestion, a very strong suggestion.”
“That’s good enough for me,” she said, quite relieved. “Now I have to scale back on my commitments, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Impossible to feel guilty for what I can’t control, isn’t that right?”
“Absolutely,” I said.
“Doctor’s orders.” She gave me an
exaggeratedly stern look. “I’m sorry. Doctor’s a very strong suggestion.”
I nodded. “You have nothing to feel guilty about, except if you ignore my suggestion and have to come back here for another abscess on the left side of your mouth.”
“Honey, as much as I like you and as much as I appreciate all the help you give me, I don’t wish to see you again for quite some time. No offense intended.”
I shook my head. “None taken. Although, I will need to see you again for a possible bone graft and a dental implant, depending on what you want to do about the missing tooth, now.”
She sighed. “You’re right. I’ll need to have an implant put in. When’s the soonest you can do that?”
I bit down on my lower lip. A habit I’d never been able to shake for when I had to deliver bad news. “Well, I’ll need to put in a bone graft first. That’s a simple enough procedure. Then we give it a few weeks to settle, and then we can put in an implant.”
“A few weeks?” She furrowed her brow and looked off to the side with a worried expression on her face.
“At least,” I said. “We’ll wait ten days, make sure the swelling has gone down completely. Then if everything looks all right, we can do the bone graft. Then another two to four weeks after that, the implant.”
“Just my luck.” She snapped her finger. “I was supposed to leave for Appalachia in two weeks.”
“That’s okay. We can do the procedures when you get back.”
She shook her head. “No, I’m supposed to hike the Appalachian Trail, the whole trail! It’s a six-month thing.”
“Six months. Wow!”
“So, the timing is perfect.” She beamed. “I’m forced to cancel. There’s nothing I can do.”
“Well,” I said, “we could always—”
“No,” she interrupted me wide-eyed. “There’s nothing I can do. Emergency dental surgery. I need a bone graft and an implant; I’ll just have to cancel.”
“I don’t understand. We do have other options.”
She put her hand on mine. “Honey, could you see me hiking in Appalachia? For six months?”
I admit, when she told me her plans, I was quite surprised. The pictures of her that frequently appeared on TV or in the society section of the papers generally had her in luxurious settings, donned in a splendid gown, champagne flute in hand with one hunk on her arm and several others trailing behind.
“Don’t you want to go?” I asked. “I mean, why did you plan to go if you didn’t really want to?”
She gave me a wry smile and pulled out her phone. She showed me a photo of a man: early to mid-thirties, sharp jawline colored with just the right amount of stubble, brown hair that fell to his shoulders, combed though still somewhat wild-looking, soft blue eyes, and full lips. He was a cross between Thor and Thor’s sexier twin.
“His name’s Devon,” she said, “and you can’t expect me to say no to him.”
I bit down on my lower lip. But this time, it wasn’t because I had bad news to give. “No, I can definitely see how it would be difficult to say no to the guy.”
She sighed and set her phone on her lap. “What can I do? I listen to one doctor and disappoint the other.”
I cocked my head to the side and furrowed my brow. “I don’t follow.”
“Devin’s a doctor,” she said and pursed her lips.
“Oh.” I glanced back down at her phone, hoping to steal another glimpse of Doctor Dreamy, but the screen side was facing her hip.
“Devin runs a charity,” Mrs. Freedman continued, “bringing sorely needed medical equipment and care to towns in Appalachia.” She leaned in and whispered, “There’s a lot of poverty in that part of the country.”
That was no secret, but I nodded anyhow and listened attentively.
“So, I agreed to hike the trail, post pictures, write little blurbs about the experience for the donors to follow.”
“That sounds like—”
“Like something you would do,” she interrupted and gave me a wink and a smile. “I followed your trip through Nunavut last summer.”
I put a hand to my cheek to hide my blushing. I had no idea someone as prominent as Felicity Freedman would follow my little charity hike through the Canadian Arctic.
“In fact,” she said, affecting a tinge of annoyance, “I could blame you for giving me the bug to go off on this crazy adventure.”
“Me?” I said defensively.
She touched me lightly on the back of my hand. “I’m only teasing, sweetheart. What you did was spectacular, raising money and awareness for those poor Inuit communities. At least in Appalachia, I wouldn’t have to worry about getting frostbite.” She sighed and leaned back in the chair. “Oh, poor Devin. How could I disappoint you?” She looked up at me and asked, “How am I ever going to get over disappointing such a fine man?”
Her phone beeped. She flipped it over and touched the screen. Her face lit up. “Justin!” She looked back up at me. “Never mind. I’ll get over it.”
I chuckled. “You’re an extraordinary woman, Mrs. Freedman. If you do want to go on this hike, you know, we can find another solution. I could put in—”
“No, no,” she said. “It’s for the best. I wouldn’t have lasted six months. Most people don’t.”
She hopped off the chair and smoothed out her shirt. I walked her to the door and opened it for her.
“I’ll make arrangements with the receptionist.” She stopped at the doorway, turned to me, and whispered, “What about the new lady working here?”
I raised my eyebrows. “Dr. Stevens?”
“Perhaps I should make my appointments with her.”
I opened my mouth, surprised, but didn’t know what to say.
“In case you find yourself indisposed, out of town over the next six months.” She gave me a wry smile.
“Oh, you mean…” I stammered. Is she implying that I might want to take her place on the Appalachian Trail?
“Of course, you may be worried your practice would suffer in your absence. And you would be missed, don’t get me wrong.” She put her hand on my arm. “But this trip would make you something of a celebrity. Think about it. Lots of people would want to go to a dentist who was also a celebrity philanthropist, at least a lot of people I know.” She gave me a sly look out of the corner of her eyes.
“I… I….”
“Of course, you’ll need time to think about it.” She tapped my hand and stepped into the corridor.
I gathered myself and followed. She turned to me and smiled. “I’ll call you Monday morning and give you the details.”
2
Ryker
You’d think I’d be capable of setting the table in less than a half-hour. There were only four of us: my mother, my father, my sister, and me. But I kept changing the placement of each item. The cutlery was too close to the plates; it looked cramped, tense, exactly how I feared the conversation would be. Then the cutlery was spread too far apart. Would they interpret that, even subconsciously, as my expressing a need or desire for distance?
I’d cooked for my family before. They weren’t difficult guests. But this was going to be a difficult conversation, one that had been a long time coming.
My sister, Amy, arrived early. Thank goodness! Even though she had no idea why I wanted everyone together and what news I was planning on springing on them, she could appreciate my anxiety for socializing with our parents. She had three years on me—plus the two years when I was in a foster home before my parents had adopted me—so she knew even better than I did how disconnected and stubborn they could be.
“It smells great,” Amy said, as she passed from the foyer into the living room.
“Stuffed mushrooms,” I said.
“Ah, Dad’s favorite.”
“And I’ve got a green bean casserole in the oven, Mom’s recipe with my own special touch.”
She turned to me with a serious expression on her face. “The place is spotless. Looks like you’re going all out. S
uspicious.”
I shrugged. “I like to keep a clean place.”
“I bet.” She smirked and looked at me out of the corner of her eyes. “If I know you as well as I think I do, I’d say you’re planning to drop a bombshell on us tonight.”
I glanced at my watch then straightened the magazines on the coffee table for the tenth time.
Amy took my arm and looked at me with wide eyes. “What is it?”
I feigned a look of incomprehension.
“Just a hint.”
I put my empty hands out, open palms up.
She paced back and forth, then stopped and looked at me. “Are you gay?”
I cocked my head to the side and frowned.
“Did you get Lucy pregnant?”
“Wow. You’re all over the place. It’s nothing like that. Just relax. You’re stressing me out.”
“Then tell me.”
I walked away from her and into the open kitchen. “Care for a glass of wine?”
Her eyes got bigger still. She pointed at me and declared, “You’re joining a cult.”
I shook my head.
“Not a cult, but you’ve decided to go off on a spiritual quest, go to India, climb the Himalayas or something.”
Now I pointed at her. “You’re getting closer.”
“You got Lucy pregnant, so you’re running off to India to join a cult.”
