Page 23 of Kept By The Mountain Man

“Alright,” I agree, leaning back in my chair, playfully resting my hands on my round belly. “I’ll tell them we’re not taking on any more clients starting tomorrow.”

“Sounds good,” he murmurs, bending down to press a kiss to my forehead. The touch is soft and familiar, but it still makes my heart flutter the way it did when we first started dating. Hendrix is still a man of few words, but when he does speak or act, it always carries weight. That’s something I’ve come to love about him. He doesn’t just say things for the sake of it. When he shows love, it’s real, solid, like him.

“Now, what smells so good?” he asks, his lips quirking into that familiar half-smile that always makes my pulse race, even after all these years.

“Olive dropped off some baked goods,” I say, watching him as he circles behind me, his presence so calming, so constant.

“Good,” he says, resting his hands on my shoulders. “I ordered you those cookies you like last night. Are they still warm?”

“They were,” I admit with a mischievous glint in my eye. “I may have already helped myself to a few.”

He chuckles, his deep voice rumbling pleasantly through the room. He takes my hand, leading me out of his office and toward the kitchen, the way he always does when we’re alone. His warmth, his touch, it’s like a protective blanket that wraps around me, making me feel safe, cherished.

“I’m not surprised,” he says, grinning as we enter the kitchen. “You always loved sneaking the warm cookies.”

I laugh softly, and he pulls me close, his hand settling on the small of my back. Hendrix has always been good at looking after me, even when we first started dating. But since we found out about the baby, he’s taken it to a whole new level. Constant surprises, constant care, always thinking of me, of us, ofourgrowing family.

As we walk through the kitchen, I rub my hand absentmindedly over my round stomach. Hendrix’s eyes soften, his hand instinctively moving to my belly, fingers splayed protectively over our baby.

“All good?” he asks, his voice low, full of concern.

I nod, feeling the warmth in my chest spread. “Yeah, we’re perfect.”

He grunts softly, his way of saying he’s content, too, and I laugh, my heart light as I look up at him. This man—my grumpy, stoic, caring husband—is everything I ever wanted but didn’t know I needed.

“I wonder if our son will have your way with words,” I tease, a smile tugging at my lips.

Hendrix chuckles, the sound rich and deep, as he pulls a glass from the cabinet and pours me a glass of milk to go with the cookies. “I hope not. I hope he gets his features and personality from his mama.”

I laugh, shaking my head as I take the glass. “I wouldn’t mind if he’s a little like you, you know. Strong, steady, stubborn as hell.”

He grins, leaning down to press another kiss to my head. “Well, I’ll take that.”

We reach the table, and I take a bite of the snickerdoodle cookie. The taste is warm and comforting, much like everything in our life together. The kitchen feels alive with the scent of fresh-baked goods and the soft hum of shared silence. Hendrix takes a seat beside me, his hand still resting on my belly, almost like he can’t help himself. It’s these small, everyday moments that remind me just how much we’ve built together.

“Were you able to visit with Olive?” he asks, his eyes never leaving mine.

I nod, sipping the milk he poured for me. “Yeah, for a little bit. She was heading home to Xavier and the kids. We’re invited over for dinner this weekend.”

“Sounds like fun,” he says, and I smile because I know he means it.

Hendrix might be quiet, but he’s built deep bonds with the people in our life—especially Olive and Xavier. They were there for us through everything, from our fake dating scheme to the real love that grew out of it. Now, they’re more than friends. They’re family. Our baby will be born into a world filled with love, warmth, and so many wonderful people.

We sit together in silence for a while, the world around us peaceful and perfect. The kitchen window lets in the late afternoon sun, casting a soft glow on everything, making the room feel even cozier. I’ve gotten used to the quiet since being married to Hendrix. He’s still a man of few words, but I’ve learned to fill the space with my own chatter, and he listens patiently, like he always does.

As I lean back in my chair, my mind drifts to the day we got married. It was a small ceremony here in Wolf Valley, with just our closest friends and family. The memory still feels fresh, the way Hendrix looked at me when I walked down the aisle. We didn’t need anything big or fancy. It was perfect because it was us.

After the wedding, Hendrix whisked me away to Hawaii for our honeymoon. Two weeks of sun, beaches, and hardly any clothing. I smile at the memory, the warm breeze, the feeling of the ocean, and the way we spent every waking minute wrapped up in each other.

“What are you smiling about?” Hendrix asks, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches me.

I grin, resting my hand on his arm. “I was just thinking about our honeymoon.”

He grunts, but I can see the smile pulling at the edges of his lips. “That was fun. We should go again. Maybe for a babymoon.”

I laugh, leaning my head on his shoulder. “I’m in.”

“I’ll plan it,” he promises, his lips brushing the top of my head.

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