Page 23 of The Mountain Man's Valentine Baby

“Look at this.” He yanks his phone off the bathroom counter and swipes. “I already had a deposit down for an apartment rental in your building. I had a plane ticket and was in the process of packing up my life. If you hadn’t shown up on my doorstep, I would have shown up on yours. Because what we have is meant to be. It’s something we fight for.”

I glance at the documents in his email, barely able to breathe.

“Now, the way I see it, we keep this place as our little vacation getaway, and we sneak back here as often as our schedule allows it. But I’m moving into your tiny ass apartment, so get used to having a roommate, wife.”

“What about your career?” I protest.

“I can sketch and paint from anywhere. What I’m not doing is letting my wife give up her career or letting her move seven hours away from me.”

I can’t help chuckling. He has it all figured out. I should have known that he would. “You’re kind of cute when you’re bossy.”

“And you’re cute all the time,” he murmurs right before he reaches for the comb. “Now come here and let me take care of you.”

After we’re both dressed again, we head into the living room. While he heats me up another piece of his cherry pie, I flip open the sketchbooks he left out earlier. The first two I’ve already looked at, but I haven’t seen the third one.

I can’t look away once I open it. Like the other two books, there are sketches of me in here. But all of them are X-rated. I pause on one sketch where my eyes are closed, and my hair is spilling across the pillow. My face is twisted in an expression of complete pleasure. I look beautiful, caught in a moment of bliss.

“You didn’t warn me that some of these sketches are naughty,” I tell Jasper when he enters the room.

He hands me the slice of cherry pie and says, “Hold on, I forgot something in the truck.”

I’m finishing my pie when he returns with a box tucked under his arm and the photo album of my life he had from earlier. He opens the box, and I see dozens of snapshots from the reception at Emma May’s house that followed our wedding. Several of the guests had instant cameras, but I was too busy dancing with my husband to pay much attention.

“You did that,” I whisper softly as I look over the candid shots. “You made sure our guests had cameras, so we’d have new additions to the scrapbook.”

He reaches for the double-sided tape, placing it carefully on the back of a photo where we’re smiling at each other. It’s our first dance together as husband and wife. “Every moment of your life deserves to be celebrated.”

I can’t help smiling at his words. I have no doubt that with this big mountain man beside me, there will always be amazing moments to celebrate.

Chapter16

Thea

“She’s so pretty!” I stare at Missy who is in Dotty’s arms. Missy is Dotty’s daughter. She’s ten weeks old and dressed in a onesie that proclaims she has her father wrapped around her finger. I don’t doubt that for a minute.

Seeing her fills me with a wave of longing to meet our own baby. I’m nine months pregnant now, and every day, it feels like I grow even bigger. When I get cranky about my changing body and how tired I am, Jasper holds me close and feeds me. Usually, something with cheese. Or pie. Pie is always a good idea.

“I can’t believe how big she’s gotten in a few short weeks,” Dotty tells me as she shifts her shirt down to cover herself. Missy has drifted to sleep after nursing, and she looks so peaceful.

“I remember seeing her at the hospital,” I whisper as I gently touch Missy’s fingers. They’re so tiny.

Jasper’s booming laugh echoes outside the window of our nursery, and I glance to see him in the backyard with Zac. I don’t know what they’re doing, but from the sound of it, they’re having a great time. The two of them have gotten even closer since they entered this season of fatherhood.

Missy stirs, and I let go of her fingers, not willing to wake her.

I take a seat in the opposite rocking chair, grimacing at the way my back twinges. I’ve been to the hospital twice already for false labor pains.

Both times, Jasper was so worried about me and the baby. He tried to talk me into staying at the hospital for the remainder of my pregnancy. I told him that I was going home to sleep in our bed and that our baby was fine. Given how frequently she kicks me in the ribs, I’d say she’s more than fine. She’s healthy and strong.

“I love the way your nursery came together,” Dotty tells me, gesturing to the room. I worked on it with Emma May, finally deciding on a forest theme. The white furniture pops against the soft green accent color.

The rocking chairs were a gift from her that we lovingly restored together. I can’t believe that after being unwanted, I’m having a baby who will grow up with family heirlooms that one day she can pass to her daughters.

As much as I love the rocking chairs, my favorite part of the nursery is the mural that my talented husband painted. It looks like butterflies are surrounding the crib while on the opposite side of the room, furry squirrels and blue birds peek from between the branches of oak trees.

I exhale slowly to the count of five and let the latest twinge pass. “I still don’t have a name.” I blink back tears, feeling like a horrible mother. Naming your kid is the most basic parenting task, and I’m struggling with it. Jasper keeps reassuring me that it’s fine.

“The right name is going to come. You’ll be looking at her, and you’ll know it,” Dotty promises me.

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