Page 16 of Stolen By the Mountain Man

Her expression changed then, and I knew this was the first she was hearing of the reality of the situation. A reality I’d lived with my whole life.

“That’s ridiculous,” she said. “Our parents love you as much as they do me.”

“Maybe, but you can’t deny there’s a little favoritism.”

“Because I’m the oldest,” she said. “Come back and we’ll sit down with them and discuss it.”

I shook my head. “This is my home. This is my family. This is my future.”

“But you’re going to stay for dinner, right?” Isaac asked Daphne. “And we have a guest bedroom, so you’re free to hang out as long as you want.”

We? The fact that he was including me warmed me from the inside out. This was our house.Wehad a guest bedroom where visitors could stay.

My sister continued to stare at me for a long second before shifting to Isaac. Finally, a smile spread over her face.

“Yes,” she said. “Dinner sounds great. If you have enough, that is.”

I smiled. “Of course.”

I hadn’t been sure how much Isaac ate, so I’d made enough to feed a small army. But the idea of sitting at the table with my fiancé and my sister sounded better than anything I could imagine. It was exactly the family setting I’d always craved.

For the first time in my life, I felt like I really belonged somewhere. And it was all because I was brave enough to follow my heart.

EPILOGUE

HELENA

Reading a super-steamy romance was probably not a good idea, especially when my husband wasn’t home. He was out dropping the kids off at his buddy Chaz’s house.

Chaz and his wife Dakota had become our closest friends, and they had kids, so it worked out perfectly to swap with them every now and then. We watched their kids Friday while they had a date night. And now they were watching ours so we could celebrate our anniversary at the ski lodge—the same place where Isaac and I had our first dinner together almost a decade ago.

I was considering texting Isaac to ask how long he’d be when I heard the familiar sound of my husband’s SUV pulling into the driveway. He was finally home.

I closed the book and stared at the fire, smiling. Yes, he was in for a big surprise when he came up the stairs.

Clomp, clomp, clomp. With each step he took, I got a little wetter. Maybe it wasn’t just the romance novel. Maybe it was knowing we were going to have this house completely to ourselves for a glorious four hours.

What could we do in that time? I’d already gotten in my reading—which I usually had to reserve for the half hour or so before I fell asleep at night—and now my focus would be on quality alone time with my husband until we headed over to the restaurant.

“I’m home!” he called out. “Where are you?”

He didn’t see me over here in front of the fire. He’d see the fireplace, though. A fire hadn’t been going when he left. That, coupled with the beautiful view of our snow-covered backyard leading to the pond, made for a cozy visual as I’d settled in with my book.

“Over here,” I said. “I was just getting some reading done. Why don’t you come and help me?”

He came to a stop, looking at me over the back of the couch. A puzzled frown covered his face.

“Help you read?”

“I was reading a particularly spicy scene,” I said. “It got me a little…well, in need of some help from you.”

Now that frown shifted to a smile. No surprise. In fact, there were few things my husband liked more than how horny I was during my two pregnancies, which had led to our two sons—Matthew, seven, and Weston, four. My sex drive had lightened up a little, but when we did get alone time, all bets were off.

“I have to say, I love when you’re reading romance novels,” he said. “I should buy you more of those books. A whole stack.”

I pointed to my e-reader. “Or just a gift card.”

By then, I heard the creak of the floorboards as he crossed the floor, and all thoughts of my e-reader were forgotten. What we had was better than anything I’d read about in any of those books. It was a solid love, based on trust and mutual attraction.

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