Page 17 of Mountain Man's Curvy Girl

“It got here, didn’t it?” he says, his lips twitching into a smirk as he leans back, the couch creaking under his weight. “That’s all that matters.”

“Barely,” I shoot back, taking a sip of my tea. “I think half my stuff is broken.”

Ethan snorts, his hand sliding down to rest on my thigh, his fingers curling against my skin. “Good. Less clutter.”

I roll my eyes, but the warmth of his touch distracts me, sending a soft shiver up my spine. He notices, of course. He always notices.

“You cold?” he asks, his voice dipping into that rough, growly tone that never fails to make my pulse quicken.

“No,” I whisper, shaking my head as I meet his gaze. “I’m fine.”

His eyes darken, and he sets his glass down on the table, turning toward me fully. “You sure about that?” he murmurs, his hand sliding up, brushing the hem of the oversized shirt I’m wearing. “Because I can think of a few ways to warm you up.”

My breath catches, and I feel my cheeks heat as his fingers tease the bare skin of my thigh. “Ethan,” I start, but he cuts me off with a soft kiss, his lips pressing against mine like he can’t help himself.

“You’re here,” he says against my mouth, his hand tightening on my thigh. “In my house. In my bed. Exactly where you’re supposed to be.”

His words make my chest ache, and I pull back just enough to look at him, my fingers tangling in the soft, dark hair at the nape of his neck. “I am, aren’t I?”

“Damn right you are,” he growls, leaning in to kiss me again, deeper this time, his other hand cupping the back of my neck. “And you’re not going anywhere, Chloe. Not now. Not ever.”

I smile against his lips, my heart swelling with a mix of emotions I can barely contain. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

“Good,” he murmurs, his voice low and possessive. “Because I’ll just come get you if you try.”

I laugh, but the sound turns into a soft gasp as his hand slides higher, his fingers teasing the edge of my underwear. “Ethan…”

“Tell me you’re happy,” he says, his voice rough but full of something deeper, something softer.

“I’m happy,” I whisper, my hands sliding over his broad shoulders. “So happy.”

“Good,” he says again, his lips trailing down to my neck. “Because so am I.”

* * *

The cabin is quiet now, the boxes forgotten as we lie tangled together on the couch, a blanket draped over us. Ethan’s arm is heavy around my waist, his chest a solid wall of warmth against my back. The fire crackles softly in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the room.

“This is home,” I whisper, more to myself than to him.

“Damn right it is,” he murmurs, his voice thick with sleep as he pulls me closer. “Our home.”

And as I close my eyes, surrounded by his warmth, his scent, and the steady rhythm of his breathing, I know he’s right. This is home. This is us.

Forever.

* * *

I’m breathless, trembling under Ethan’s touch as he peppers kisses down my neck, his rough hands exploring every inch ofmy body. But when he pulls back, his blue-gray eyes locking onto mine, there’s something in his gaze that makes my heart skip.

“I have something to show you,” he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly.

“Now?” I ask, my cheeks heating as I glance at the state of my dress—half off, barely clinging to my waist.

He smirks, leaning down to kiss me, slow and teasing. “Trust me. You’re going to like it.”

He pulls me to my feet, the cool mountain air brushing against my bare skin as he wraps his flannel shirt around my shoulders. I follow him, curiosity sparking despite the heat still simmering between us. He leads me to the back of the cabin, stopping in front of a door I hadn’t noticed before.

“What is this?” I ask, glancing up at him.

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