Page 19 of The Mountain Man's Irresistible Bride
She blinks at me. “Then do something about it.”
I look at her—really look at her. This bright, brave, ridiculous woman turned my silent cabin into a home. She made Wren smile and made me feel again.
My chest cracks wide open.
“I’m in love with you,” I say.
She stares at me.
“It terrifies me,” I admit. “I’ve lost so much already. I don’t know how to be the man you deserve, but I want to try if you’ll let me.”
Her lower lip trembles. She takes a step forward, then another. Her arms wrap around my middle, and she presses her face into my chest.
“Okay,” she whispers.
And for the first time in a long time, I feel like maybe I haven’t screwed everything up after all.
Chapter Eleven
Juniper
I stayed in the bedroom for most of the day. I’m not ready to put all my eggs in Elias’s basket, but I also don’t want to be anything other than a wife. There’s a quiet knock at the door again.
Elias lets himself inside. “I need to say some things,” Elias says quietly
I nod.
He steps closer, then closer still, until he’s standing in front of me. He doesn’t touch me, but his words do.
“I was a coward. I’ve been a coward, not because I don’t want you, but because I want you too damn much. You came into my life like a wildfire—hot and bright and full of color—and I didn’t know how to let you stay.”
My breath shudders.
He presses on. “I told myself this marriage was a means to an end, but it’s not. It hasn’t been for a long time. I wake up every morning and check to see if you’re still here. I watch the way you hum when you cook. I breathe easier when I hear you laugh.”
My vision blurs again.
“I love you, Juniper. I want you. Not as a roommate or a temporary fix. I want you as my wife, my partner, my damn heart.”
He finally reaches for me. One hand on my cheek, the other resting over my heart.
“I built you something, out back. I’ve been working on it for the last week and it’s almost finished. Will you come see it?”
Still stunned and speechless, I nod.
He takes my hand and leads me outside, through the trees to the edge of the clearing. The rain has stopped, and the sun is breaking through golden clouds.
It’s a greenhouse. Rustic and charming, made of reclaimed windows and warm cedar. Inside, rows of planters wait for seedlings. Hanging baskets dangle from hooks. In the center is a wooden swing, painted a soft lavender. Above the entrance is a carved sign:Juniper’s Garden.
I cover my mouth. “You built this?”
“Every nail. Every hinge. I wanted you to have something of your own here. Something that says this is your home too.”
I turn and launch myself into his arms. “I love you, too, so much.”
His mouth crashes to mine, but this kiss is different. Tender. Sure. Full of promise. He walks me back toward the cabin, never breaking contact, until we’re inside, in our bedroom.
He undresses me like I’m something fragile. I undress him like I’ve been waiting a lifetime. There’s no rush. No frenzy. Just touches that burn and whispers that soothe.
