Page 22 of The Mountain Man's Irresistible Bride
“Was it that obvious?”
She grins. “Only to me.”
I reach for her hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “I’ve never had anything like this. A family. A holiday that didn’t feel like a countdown to the next fight.”
Juniper shifts forward, sliding into my lap. Her knees bracket my thighs. Her hands frame my face.
“Then let’s make our own traditions.”
I kiss her softly. Slowly. Until we’re tangled together again, right there in front of the fire. We barely make it to the bedroom.
As I fall asleep hours later, with Juniper wrapped in my arms and Wren’s light footsteps echoing down the hall, I think maybe fate had a plan after all.
It brought me the one woman I never thought to ask for—and the family I never dreamed I deserved.
Epilogue
Juniper
One Year Later
The scent of rosemary and rising bread floats through the crisp autumn air as I lean against the garden gate, watching my greenhouse come alive in the golden morning sun. The last of the marigolds are still blooming, the lavender bush humming with lazy bees. Fall in Pine Hollow is a mosaic of golds and reds, cool mornings and early dusks. I’ve never loved a season more.
Especially now.
Wren’s at school. Elias is hammering something outside. I can hear him grumbling about porch rails like they personally offended him. And me? I’m watching him from behind a cluster of sunflowers, trying not to bite my lip like I’m eighteen again.
The man’s wearing jeans, work boots, and no shirt. Just tan skin, thick forearms, and muscles that ripple every time he lifts his hammer.
God help me.
I’ve been his wife for a year, and I still look at him like dessert.
I pick up my woven basket—today’s harvest of herbs and late-season tomatoes—and head for the cabin. The porch creaks under my feet, and Elias glances up from the railing, sweat sliding down his neck.
“Does that look better?” he asks, tilting his chin toward the beam he just installed.
I pretend to examine it, biting my lip. “Mmm. Not as good as you.”
His brows lift. Then he’s stalking toward me, tools forgotten. “Say that again.”
“You heard me,” I tease, backing into the cabin.
He follows, crowding me until my back hits the kitchen island. “You keep looking at me like that, I’m gonna skip straight to dessert.”
I gasp as he kisses me—deep, possessive, like he’s still making up for lost time.
“I’ve got bread rising,” I murmur against his mouth.
“So let it rise.”
We laugh, tangled in each other until the oven timer dings and reminds us we’re still civilized adults. Barely.
After lunch, I box up jars of my new jams—cranberry-chili and cinnamon-pear—for the general store. Dottie keeps calling them “Juniper’s Harvest” and says they’re her best sellers. Annie’s offered to sell my bread at the bakery, too. What started as a hobby turned into a real little business.
Elias teases that I’m becoming Pine Hollow’s most dangerous woman—too sweet to resist, and too stubborn to stop.
He’s not wrong.
