Page 21 of Obsessed and Naughty Mountain Man

He let me into his adventure, and it’s only just beginning.

I feel like I’ve sprouted wings.

EPILOGUE

LUCAS

Six Months Later…

“Who the hell gets married in December?”

My Groomsmen are all assembled, sipping whiskey in the cigar room of the lodge. Outside, a blizzard is painting the windows white. Even the weather has dressed up for my wedding.

Brock keeps on grumbling, “Seriously, it’s ten fucking degrees outside.”

“That’s why the ceremony isinside, brother.”

“You just have to do things differently, huh? God forbid you plan for the spring or fall like a normal person.”

“Winter is the off-season.” I shrug, staring out the window at the beautiful storm. “Talk to Luna. She’s the one who insisted that we keep spring free for our climbing trips.”

“You’ve corrupted her.”

“Don’t worry, she still has her 401(k).”

If you’d asked me ten years ago where my ideal wedding would be, I would have told younowhere. What wedding? Why would I get married? Who on earth would marry me?

Well, things change fast when you’re in love.

Luna and I took our time finding a cabin for sale on the edge of Pine Whistle. We wanted it to be perfect. Ana was thrilled tohave me for another couple of months. Brock was convinced I was bullshitting and it would never happen.

But we moved in together. We made a home, and we haven’t slowed down since.

And, to top it all off, we became hometown heroes.

We invited Roger, the hiker we pulled from that cliff, to the wedding. He and his wife have become good friends.

The wedding planner comes in and gives us the nod that signals that the ceremony is about to start. My best man, Johny, the climber partner I canceled on, slaps me on the back and hypes me up.

“You can do this, bud.”

“I’m not nervous,” I laugh. “No cold feet here.”

“You sure?” Brock grunts. “Not too late to run off and be a hippie again.”

I clap his shoulder and smile. “I’m still a rock-climbing hippie, dude. I’m just in love. And Iknowyou get that.”

My older brother sighs, allowing himself to crack a half smile.

“Whoa! Shit!” I pretend to dodge a bullet. “Watch out, boys. Chief Stone is smiling! That thing could cut diamonds.”

“Shut up.”

Out into the hall we go, strutting in our suits and smiling for the photographer. The mountain lodge is the perfect venue for us, striking a balance between elegant and adventurous. In the hall, our attendees are waiting. It’s a smaller wedding, with only about fifty people, but that suits us, too.

As my groomsmen start getting called down the aisle, Brock’s gruff voice startles me from behind. “Look… I… uh… I’m proud of you.”

“What?” I laugh. “You’re doing this now?”

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