Page 34 of Forever with the Mountain Man

“Well, don’t let that woman get her claws into him. Or let his family manipulate him. You’ve got to get back in there and hold your ground. You owe that to him.”

I smile thinly. “But I’m also the cause of all the drama. Can I allow a man I love to go through ostracizing and shaming on account of me?”

“Do you make him happy?”

I lick my lips. “I do. But at what cost?”

“You let him sort that out. Okay? If he’s a man worth his salt, he’ll make you his queen, relatives be damned.”

“How do you always know what I need to hear?”

“Because you’re my BFF, my sister for life.”

“Thank you again for the makeover, by the way.”

“Did Fierce love it?”

“More than you can know,” I reply, my cheeks burning as delicious thoughts of our steamy time together crowd my mind. I don’t have the heart to tell her mud pretty much negated the makeover. But the pretty panties and bras came in very handy.

“And did you tell him about the situation with your articles?”

I nod.

“And?”

“He was supportive. He said he trusted me to write our story from my heart, although he asked that I keep our most precious moments private.”

“Okay, find me one of his damn brothers who isn’t taken because I need a man like this in my life. Oh my God!”

Her words feel like a healing balm, allowing me to think back on the loving, wonderful moments from this weekend without all the angst overshadowing it. I want to curl up in a ball and cry because I miss the big, burly shepherd terribly.

“Speaking of mountain men,” Callie says, her eyes darting toward the back of the cafe. “You might want to look at who just walked through the door.”

I turn with a frown, expecting to see a heavily bearded Deadhead or maybe someone wearing rawhide and leather from the Haight. Instead, my breath catches in my throat.

“Oh my God, that’s Fierce,” I hiss towards Callie, my cheeks burning. He towers over everyone in the café, wearing a black, long-sleeved button-down shirt, Wrangler’s, black cowboy boots, and his black Stetson, which he wears when foregoing the beret. He carries a big bouquet of sunflowers in his hand.

“I know. Can’t forget a face or body like that,” she says, looking over my head in his direction. “He’s looking for you. And he has some other people with him.”

“Oh my God. Do I look okay? I don’t even have mascara on, and I’ve been crying all?—”

Callie stands up, waving in his direction and pointing at me. “Fierce, Mr. Basque Shepherd, she’s over here!”

Every eye in the café laser focuses on me, and I hear Fierce’s voice say something loudly in Basque. Immediately, drums start pounding out a rhythmic beat accompanied by something that sounds like sleigh bells.

Callie’s eyes are the size of dinner plates. “Girl, you look fine. Stand the fuck up. Your king’s here to claim you.”

Music fills the café, drawing closer. An ancient, primal beat. I take a deep breath, throw my shoulders back, and stand up confidently, turning to face the advancing sounds. Male voices join in, singing behind Fierce, and the Basque shepherd walks towards me, holding a big bouquet of sunflowers with his crew of musicians following behind until he towers over me, a solemn look on his face.

“Oh. My. God.” Callie exclaims.

The music continues, and café patrons cheer and clap along until it stops abruptly, silence overtaking the space. Applause breaks out around the room as Fierce laughs deep in his chest, a sound I’ve missed so much. Tears fill my eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, stroking my cheek and staring at me longingly.

“I’ve missed you so much,” I say breathlessly, my face dissolving before his intense gaze. “More than I can express.”

As soon as tears hit my cheeks, the man melts before me. Poising the flowers and his Stetson on the café table, he sweeps me into his arms with a groan of satisfaction as the musicians start playing again. He says against the shell of my ear, “And I have missed you, ma luciole. I don’t ever want to be away from you again.”

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