Page 12 of How to Love a Mountain Man

“Funny thing, I like them too.” He grins. “Charades was pretty fun, right?”

My stomach flips as I get a vivid flashback of him on one knee. “Yeah,” I say quickly, grabbing another dish. “Dan’s kangaroo impression was…vigorous.”

Julian laughs, shutting the dishwasher with a click and starting the cycle. When he turns to face me, I feel a rush of butterflies. “Want to stay for a while? We could watch a movie.”

I think about going home to my quiet cabin. It would be fine—peaceful, familiar. But spending more time with Julian sounds better. “Only if we can have popcorn.”

“First you crash my party, now you want my popcorn too?” The way he looks at me makes those butterfly wings beat even harder. “The demands never end with you.”

Ten minutes later, we’re settled on his oversized couch, a generous bowl of buttery popcorn between us. “We are not watching Werewolf Pirates,” I tell him as his scrolling halts.

“It’s a cult classic!” Julian protests.

“It’s terrible. What about anactualclassic? Look, there’s an entire section of them right there.”

He groans. “The last ‘classic’ we watched had a ten-minute scene of someone staring out a window. Riveting stuff.”

“The protagonist had just lost the love of his life! Besides, it wasnotten minutes long. It was five minutes, max.”

“So you were checking your watch too, huh?”

I roll my eyes and reach for the remote in his hand. But he pulls it away before I can snatch it. “Nope. We’re watching Werewolf Pirates, and that’s final.”

“Julian, come on. There’s gotta be something else we’ll both like.” I try for the remote again, but he holds it high, laughing. A frustrated groan escapes my throat, and before I can think better of it, I'm reaching across him?—

Oh, God. The reality of what I've done hits me all at once. We're pressed together now, my body against his, our faces inches apart. His blue eyes lock onto mine, eyebrows lifting slightly. And his mouth…that infuriating, gorgeous mouth…

I watch as his tongue grazes his lower lip. Then he's leaning in, erasing what little space remains between us.

When his mouth meets mine, the world stops.

He’s kissing me. Actually kissing me. I can’t believe it’s happening but itishappening andoh my Goddoes it feel good. Thoughts spin through my head as I sink deeper into the warmth of him.

When Julian finally pulls back, his eyes are dark and his breathing uneven. We stare at each other across a moment thatfeels endless, and then his expression shifts to something that makes my chest tight.

“Fuck,” he says, and my stomach drops. “Shae, I…fuck. I can’t not say it.”

“Say what?” I ask in a whisper, my heart hammering and hammering away.

His expression softens, a slow smile spreading across his face. His eyes are full of something that makes me ache. “Shae, I’m in love with you. I have been for months.”

7

JULIAN

For the longest few seconds of my life, Shae doesn’t speak. She just blinks at me, her expression unreadable. It feels like I’m standing on the edge of a precipice, the ground threatening to crumble beneath my feet.

Then she speaks. The words that fall from her lips come out as a whisper. Below a whisper, practically.

But I catch them. I’ll always catch what Shae says.

“I’m in love with you, too.” She draws in a little gasp, then smiles. Then, a little louder: “I’m in love with you too.”

The feeling that sweeps through me is nothing short of ecstasy. To be loved by this woman, this stubborn, incredible woman who I adore, is the greatest thing that has ever happened to me in my whole life.

I want to freeze this moment, to live in it forever. But there will be more moments now, countless more, with her by my side.

“Spend the night with me, Shae,” I murmur, gliding a hand over her hair. I have a thousand fantasies about her that I want to seeinto reality, and every one of them involve her coming until she’s utterly spent. Coming on my tongue, on my fingers, on my cock—I’ve spent months imagining every scenario. She has no idea how many times I’ve spilled my seed thinking of her, has no idea the sticky, desperate messes I’ve made all over myself.

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