Page 21 of The Mountain Man's Secret Baby

“I’m sorry for the way things turned out, Christian,” I say in a low voice, staring at my toes as we walk. “This isn’t what I thought would happen.”

He nods, looking straight ahead as he carries Blaze in his strong arms. Terror reigns in my heart again. Will the alpha male forgive me, or will I always be on his shit list, only tolerated because I’m the mother of his child? I know I deserve to be excoriated and to my horror, tears prick my eyes once more. I dash them away, angry at myself for being such a mess all the time. Why can’t I get it together, and come off as a cool, competent, and sophisticated woman? I guess I’ll always be a blubbering fool, at least where this man is concerned.

Even worse, Christian doesn’t say anything immediately. We reach the car, and he pops open the back door before placing our sleeping child in the car seat. Then he takes his damn time buckling Blazey in, and covering our child’s sleeping form with a soft blanket before shutting the door and turning to me. To my surprise, his expression isn’t angry or accusatory. Instead, it’s soft. Or at least as soft as a man so hard can be.

“I know, Emily,” he says in a deep voice. “None of this turned out the way we thought it would. But it’s okay now. We have our child, and he’s safe and loved by both parents. We made it out fine.”

Still, tears tremble on my lashes.

“Yes, I know,” I say in a small voice, staring at a crack in the sidewalk. “Thank you for everything. It’s just that—” My breathcatches and I can’t speak because my heart is pounding so hard. Nerves make my knees weak and I don’t know if I can say it. I don’t know if I can declare my love for this man when I’ve treated him so abominably. He has every right to hate me, and the tears begin to flow again.

But Christian is patient.

“What is it, sweetheart?” he asks in a low tone. “Tell me. You should never be afraid to tell me anything.”

“I’ve just been a terrible person,” I manage between gritted teeth as I continue to stare at the pavement. “I kept your son from you. I never told you that I survived the fire, and then I ended up breaking my mother’s heart. I ruined an idyll in the woods because I was a coward, and afraid, and—”

“And you were very young,” Christian interrupts, his blue eyes so intense they’re almost black. “You’restillyoung, Emily. You have your whole life in front of you.”

His words make me burst into sobs because they sound so final. It seems as if he’s ready to talk about the next phase of my life, which doesnotinclude him. I bury my face in my hands, unable to stomach the thought.

“No, but that’s the problem,” I cry. “I love you Christian, and I messed up because I wasn’t thinking straight. I thought you wouldn’t want the baby, and then with your divorce from my mom, I wanted to protect you and I wanted to protect her too, but look how it all turned out! I messed everything up and it’s all my fault!”

Strong arms wrap around me then, pulling me against a hard chest. I blubber against his jacket, smearing snot everywhere as I cry my heart out. After what feels like an eternity of tears, Istop and push myself back a bit, wiping at my nose. There’s a wet stain on his fancy leather jacket which is probably saliva, phlegm, and other gross bodily fluids.

“I’m sorry, Christian,” I blubber again. “Can you forgive me? I promise—”

But my words are cut off by his kiss. His mouth lands hard on mine as he grips my small chin with those blunt fingers, angling my lips to his liking. Unbidden, my mouth parts and he growls low in his chest as his tongue moves in to swipe against mine, reminding me of his possession. My curvy form sags against his big one with relief, those strong arms catching me by the waist as my breasts press against his chest, sheltered by his massive frame.

“It’s fine, baby girl,” he intones in a low voice, his chest rumbling as he speaks. He’s so big and strong that I feel shielded from the winds. “You don’t need to apologize because I love you too, and you never need to apologize for anything. I can feel your sincerity and that’s what I adore about you Emily. You give one hundred percent to the people you love, leaving your vulnerable soul pure and bare. I’ve never met a better woman.”

I cry again, pressing my cheek against his hard shoulder.

“But I’ve messed up so much!” are my tearful words. “My mom basically died because of me, and never met her grandson. And you missed the first year of Blaze’s life because I was so mixed up and confused and—”

“Shhh,” Christian murmurs against my hair before pressing another tender kiss to my lips. “It’s fine, Emily. Everyone makes mistakes in life because no one’s perfect. Don’t get me wrong because I had a fucking miserable two years, thinking you weredead,” he says in a rough tone, “but you’re alive now and that’s what I need. You are the mother of my child, and the keeper of my heart. You made me feel things that I’ve never felt in my life, sweetheart, and our time in the cabin was magical. I never wanted it to end, and I had every intention of taking you back with me to Vegas even then. I’m sorry if I was unclear about that.”

I look up into his crystal blue eyes, his words the healing balm that my heart needs to knit itself together again after so much trauma.

“No, it’s fine,” I whisper, running my fingers through the stubble on his jaw. “I think the fire made us all a little crazy. But it’s past now, and I love you, Christian Degas. I adore how you protect and care for us, and how you go out of your way to make me feel safe and loved. Thank you.”

“I love you too, Emily,” the alpha male rasps, his blue eyes burning with passion as those big hands wander over my soft curves. “Now, enough with the talking, and let me kiss you, baby. I’ve needed this for a long time.”

With that, our lips meet. I melt into the powerful alpha male’s arms, reveling in the tenderness of his embrace and the promise of our future together. Christian Degas has always been a billionaire to the world ... but to me, he’ll always be my mountain man.

EPILOGUE

Emily

One year later.

I lean back on the sofa, wincing a bit at the awkwardness. My belly is big now although I’m only in my second trimester, and the lumpy cushion only seems to make it worse.

“I thought your interior designer was the best,” I grump to my handsome boyfriend. “Didn’t you pay her a ton of money to do up the cabin? How come this sofa is so uncomfortable? Oooh, this pregnancy is going to kill me.”

Christian merely laughs before striding over to press a tender kiss to my forehead.

“Mommy is complaining,” he says to Blaze, the toddler blubbering in his arms. “Do you want to get her a juice to make her feel better?”

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