Page 18 of Craving the Mountain Man

At the reception, held at the newly renovated Fire Mountain Lodge, Grayson and I are surrounded by our loved ones. The room is filled with laughter and music as we celebrate our union.

During a quiet moment, Grayson pulls me aside, his hand resting gently on my swollen belly. "How are you feeling?" he asks softly, concern evident in his eyes.

I smile up at him, placing my hand over his. "I'm perfect. A little tired, but so incredibly happy."

He leans down to press a tender kiss to my forehead. "Sometimes I still can't believe this is real," he murmurs. "You, me, this little one on the way... it's more than I ever dared to hope for."

I feel tears welling up in my eyes at the raw emotion in his voice. "Oh Grayson," I whisper, wrapping my arms around him as best I can with my pregnant belly between us. "It's real. We're real. And I fall more in love with you every day."

He holds me close, one hand cradling the back of my head while the other remains protectively over our unborn child. We stay like that for a long moment, swaying gently to the music.

Suddenly, I feel a strong kick from the baby. Grayson pulls back slightly, his eyes wide with wonder. "Was that...?"

I nod, grinning. "I think someone wants to join the party."

Grayson kneels down, pressing a kiss to my belly. "Hey there, little one," he says softly. "We can't wait to meet you. But for now, let your mama enjoy her wedding day, okay?"

As if in response, there's another kick, softer this time. Grayson looks up at me, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "I love you both so much," he says, his voice thick with emotion.

I run my fingers through his hair, my heart overflowing with love for this man. "I love you too."

The rest of the evening passes in a whirlwind of dancing—as much as my pregnant state allows—heartfelt toasts and funny ones from Jake. As the reception winds down, we say our goodbyes and head up to the honeymoon suite.

Once inside, Grayson sweeps me into his arms, careful of my belly. "Mrs. Wells," he says, his voice low and husky. "I believe it's time I properly welcomed you to married life."

I grin, wrapping my arms around his neck. "I thought you'd never ask, Mr. Wells."

As Grayson lays me gently on the bed, I'm struck by how far we've come. From that first day when I stumbled into his office, to our adventure on the mountain, to this moment—starting our life together as a family.

THREE MONTHS LATER

I wake to the sound of Grayson's voice, low and soothing. Opening my eyes, I see him sitting in the rocking chair by the window, our newborn daughter cradled in his arms.

"And that bright star there," he's saying softly, "that's Polaris. The North Star. Sailors and travelers have used it to find their way home for thousands of years."

I watch silently, my heart swelling with love as Grayson continues his impromptu astronomy lesson. Our daughter, barely two weeks old, stares up at him with wide, curious eyes.

"But you know what, little one?" Grayson says, his voice thick with emotion. "You and your mama are my North Star now. You guide me home, keep me centered when the world gets stormy."

Tears prick at my eyes as I listen to his heartfelt words. Grayson has taken to fatherhood with a tenderness that never fails to amaze me.

"That's beautiful," I say softly, not wanting to break the spell of the moment.

Grayson looks up, a tender smile spreading across his face. "Hey there, sleepyhead. Did we wake you?"

I shake my head, pushing myself up to a sitting position. "No, I think my body just knows when it's feeding time."

As if on cue, our daughter begins to fuss. Grayson chuckles, standing carefully. "Looks like someone's ready for breakfast. Here you go, mama."

He gently transfers our baby to my arms, and I can't help but marvel at how natural it feels now. Those first few days had been a whirlwind of uncertainty and sleep deprivation, but we're slowly finding our rhythm.

As I settle in to feed the baby, Grayson perches on the edge of the bed beside us. His hand comes to rest on my knee, a gesture of support and connection that has become second nature.

"How are you feeling?" he asks, his eyes searching my face for any signs of discomfort or fatigue.

I smile up at him, touched by his constant concern. "I'm good. Tired, but good. How about you, Mountain Man? Ready for another day of diaper duty?"

Grayson grins, leaning in to press a soft kiss to my forehead. "Bring it on. I've scaled mountains and braved blizzards. I think I can handle a few dirty diapers."

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