Page 18 of Forever with the Mountain Man

Their faces warm and open, communicating an immediate sense of welcome that floors me. It’s not what I expected based on what Fierce told me about his family. One of the older women strides toward me, grey swirls in her black hair fashioned in a bun. She covers her mouth with her hand, her eyes rounding and watering. A man follows behind, a big smile on his ruddy, bearded face that reminds me of an older version of Fierce.

What in the hell have I done?

Behind them, the men continue scrapping in the mud. They’re so covered in it now that they look more animal than human, entirely oblivious to the events unfolding. The older woman and man pick up their pace, and before I know it, I’m in a double bear hug with them, Basque swirling thickly around me. I recognize isolated words.Happy. Welcome. Love.Fortune.Son. Daughter. Family. Children.But my guess is as good as the next person’s about what they’re saying.

The older woman strokes my cheek fondly, cooing to me in soft strains of Basque, and all I can do is nod and smile. Her voice raises at the end of a repeated phrase, and my stomach churns. She’s asking me a question.

Taking a deep breath, I reply in my best provincial French, “Sorry, but my French is far better than my Basque.”

The woman looks shocked, pausing momentarily and looking at the man next to her. He shrugs and says something I don’t understand.

Then, she launches into a thickly accented French that my brain strains to understand. Something about me being early or picking me up. It makes no sense, and I shake my head.

Behind us, a cacophony of deep male voices rumbles, and seven mud-covered, bare-chested men encircle us, their blue eyes and white teeth glowing from their muddy faces. In a second larger circle around them, the remaining older couples, younger women, and small children eye me.

The tallest among the muddy group, a massive brute of a man steps forward, his brows furrowing and his eyes large. “Felicity?” From phone calls and FaceTiming, I would know that voice anywhere.

Still, I hesitate, overwhelmed by everything. “Fierce?” I ask, looking past the older couple, still crooning and fawning over me.

The creases in his forehead deepen, and he lets out a long exhale. “You’re even more beautiful than your photos,” he says in a raw voice.

Around him, his brothers burst into laughter and mocking jokes in a mixture of English, French, and Basque. My head spins, and my heart races as I take in the giant of a man. He’s so much larger and taller than I ever imagined, and the mud splattered across his body heightens the gorgeous angular planes of his marble-carved chest. In a word, he’s stunning.

My eyes instinctively drop to his left hand, and I sigh in relief. Despite the mud covering his massive digits, I clearly see no band.Thank goodness.

Invading the inner circle of his parents, he pulls me into his muddy arms as his mother and father protest in Basque. An ear-to-ear grin covers his handsome face, beaming straight, snow-white teeth against the brown of his dirt-drenched features. “I would’ve dressed up if I knew you were coming. But you came. You actually came. What a surprise!” He stares at me long and hard, looking like the wind’s knocked out of him.

My heart pounds, and relief washes over me in extravagant waves. If this man were hiding a girlfriend or other relationship, there’s no way he would claim me so boldly in front of his entire family. My face relaxes into a warm smile, my eyes filling with tears.

His big body drenches my clothes in dripping mud as he holds me tightly against his rock-hard frame, towering above me despite my not-insignificant height of five foot nine and two-inch heels. But nothing matters as he leans in, capturing my mouth hungrily and causing a commotion in Basque around us. He tastes like mud and sweat and the most virile masculinity I’ve ever encountered, and I want more…an immediate addict from the first brush of his lips.

Fierce pulls back slightly, the grin still stretching his face. He exclaims something in Basque. My brows knit, and he presses his lips to the shell of my ear, making my neck and shoulders shiver with want as he clarifies, “I told them, ‘This one’s mine.’”

Chapter Five

FIERCE

Hot-blooded. Over-the-top. Possessive. Impetuous.

Words swirl around me, half-whispered in French and Basque. But I don’t care. I’m too busy staring into the face of the woman I’ve only known from photos and FaceTime. I can’t believe she came. That she’s taking a chance on me. All I know is she’s more beautiful and sexy and amazing than any dating app could ever communicate. And she’s all mine forever.

Wrapping my arm possessively around her waist, I whisper in her ear. “I’m sorry about the mud on your clothes.” Various family members pull out their phones, snapping pictures of us as Felicity’s cheeks stain pink.

She whispers, looking and sounding overwhelmed, “They’re washable.”

Ama and Aita scold me for treating her this way. They want to take her back to the main house to stay. But there’s no way in hell. I’m pleasantly surprised by the reception they’ve given her, as though she belongs to the family. But I won’t let my guard down because this reception doesn’t make sense.

“What in the hell did you do to make them like you so much?” I ask as we reach her red Jeep.

She shakes her head, confusion flooding her face. “I said hello in Basque and then spoke a little French.”

I smile until I feel like my cheeks will break. She really is trying to fit in, which means she loves me, too.

“Well, I say, let’s stop while we’re ahead. Agreed?”

Puzzlement fills her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Let’s get away from everyone, so we can talk and get to know each other better. Family is too much drama. The bigger they are, the more drama. Follow me back to my cabin?”

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