Page 48 of Whiskey Kisses For the Mountain Man
He’s right. Trent was my first long-term relationship. I only know it through the lens of image and persona. Everything we did was framed for the camera. Nothing was just for us. And I grew to resent the thing I used as an outlet to connect and find community.
“You don’t mind being dubbed, Christmas Mountain King?” I grin.
Owen’s deep, soft chuckle sends goosebumps down my arms. “I don’t feel worthy of the title, but I like the idea of being the King to your Queen.”
“I like being yours, period.”
“Good. I love the idea of being yours,” he says, his voice deeper.
I absorb the hint of gold flecks in his vibrant eyes, brushing my fingers through the hair at his temple.
“I really care about you, Owen McKenna,” I whisper my confession.
My body has shown it countless times. On his bed, in mine. On his kitchen counter, or bent over the back of his couch, facing our little tree. But in the afterglow, my devotion almost pops out of my mouth every time. I’ve fallen for this grumpy mountain man whose looks, touch, and words are more honest than all the smiles I’ve seen growing up.
Right now, his face softens, and wonder fills his eyes. The hand at my face slides into my hair. “Lettie Donovan, what I feel for you is so big, I never know how to put it into words. But I hope that I show you. In more ways than one.”
I nod. “You do.”
“Good.” His thumb caresses my bottom lip. “Don’t doubt this is more than casual for me. I haven’t trusted since…and I trust you. I want you. I’m falling for you.”
My eyes fill with tears of joy this time. I lean in and kiss him. It’s deep. It’s a promise. It’s everything.
Owen pulls away and smiles.
“I have a surprise.”
Eager to find out, we take our lunch with us to his truck and begin driving up the mountain.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“Wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you.”
Pouting, I lean back and bite into my chicken salad sandwich. I love surprises, but I won’t lie, my heart can only take so much if this doesn’t turn out to be a good one. Soon, we pull into Hunter & Co. Lumber. I watch Owen’s profile, trying to get a read on what this is about.
Owen parks the truck at the back, where the infamous Hunter brothers I’ve heard so much about stand around a truck-mounted tree spade. I look at Owen, confused.
“What’s this?”
He smiles, then winks before getting out of the truck and coming around to open my door.
“Trust me, Snowflake.”
“Always,” I answer automatically.
His eyes brighten at that. He drops a quick kiss on my lips before taking my hand and guiding me to four of the seven Hunter brothers.
“Lettie, this is Grayson, Asher, Beckett, and Holden.” He points each one out.
“Nice to meet all of you. I’ve heard so many wonderful stories. You’re all legends.”
They all grin or lightly chuckle.
“Too kind, Lettie,” Holden smiles. “You’ve come to our town like a festive tornado, I’ve heard.”
Owen lets out a deep, quiet growl.
Holden’s hand raises. “I meant that as a compliment. Geez,” he laughs. “No wonder you and Ghost are best friends.”
