Page 56 of Unwrapped By the Grumpy Mountain Man
Opening my eyes, I stare in the mirror and calmly try to tie this stupid gray tie again. I know every detail for our wedding except for one, the dress. She refused to let me know anything about it. I teased and placed my guesses, but she’d just throw over her shoulder that cheeky smile that took everything in me not to do something about…like throw her over my shoulder and bend her over the side of our bed.
Sex with three little ones full time at home has been a challenge, to say the least, but every secret spot with my hand over her mouth gets my love wetter, tighter…
Shit.“Don’t you fucking dare,” I growl down at my pants, willing the swell to ease before I walk out and embarrass myself.
Three soft knocks.
I turn, facing the door as it cracks open and a familiar face pokes through.
I’m stunned, staring at a woman I haven’t seen in person in more years than I care to count. “Ma?” I choke.
Her black hair is streaked with silver now. The lines around her eyes are more pronounced, but my mother looks elegant and strong.
“Hud, baby,” she whispers, walking in, stunned, gazing up and down my frame. “Oh my God,” she sobs, covering her mouth.
I charge toward her and take her in my arms.
Holy hell. I forgot what this felt like. A hug from my own mother. I forgot that even at my age, I’m never too old to need this.
“Don’t cry,” I quietly speak into the top of her head, even though my own emotions threaten to spill over.
Pulling back, she smiles up through the tears. “Look how handsome you look.”
I chuckle, half sob, “Ma.”
“That stunning wife of yours, she wouldn’t rest until I managed my schedule to be here this week.”
I stare at the woman who worked tirelessly at three jobs, never complained, even when I saw the exhaustion that clung to her bones, the woman I grew up loving immensely, but kept at a distance the moment I joined the MC.
Of course, my wife planned this. That gorgeous little minx.
“Sneaky,” my voice is husky with emotion. “I’m sorry. I should’ve been the one to offer–”
“Shh,” she shakes her head. “I understand you chose a path you felt was what you needed. I didn’t like it. I feared for you every day. But as you’ll learn more with each day your beautiful little angels grow, as a parent, you have to allow them to live their own lives and figure things out. We can steer them the best we can, but in the end, it’s their journey to make. Just gotta always be there when they come back home.”
I wiped the rogue tear from my cheek. “I love you. I wanted to protect you from–”
She caresses my cheek. “I know, baby. I know. I wish I could’ve been in the girls' lives, but you had to allow that at your own pace. And theirs.”
Guilt gnaws and twists my organs. When Silvie was born, I was too deep in the MC. I left home behind, and eventually, when things got ugly there, I couldn’t face her. I kept tabs from a distance. Eventually, when investments started paying off, I bought her a home. On occasion, we talked briefly on the phone. I’ve gotten so used to not reaching out and making her a part of our lives, I just shrugged off Violet’s questions about bringing my mother over for the wedding.
But this has all been a new beginning. It’s time my mother knew her granddaughters, and our girls know the love of their grandmother, along with their new step-grandfather. Almost two months sober, Violet’s dad is spoiling our girls every chance he gets.
“Thank you,” I grunt. “For everything. I love you and I’m really glad you’re here.”
Smiling wide, my mother hugs me. “Me too, Hud, baby. Me too. Forever my little boy.”
Overwhelmed, I stand still gathering my shit as my mother insists on tying the gray tie that matches the suit.
“Walk me down the aisle to wait for my bride?” I ask when we’re ready.
Her brown eyes shine with love, pride, and tears. “My greatest honor today.”
I hook her delicate fingers around my forearm, and we leave the small shed I converted for today while Vi and the girls are getting ready in the guesthouse. The walk is about fifteen minutes from here. Vi will be driven, but I wanted to walk. Take in this property and town, I have made a home for my family.
Ma and I catch up, and the pang from keeping her at a distance still stings, but her eternal love as a mother soothes some of the ache.
There’s a plateau where two tall evergreens stand, and in between, an opening with a view of large, snowcappedmountains. The ground is dry, but the air still holds that bite of late winter. Grayson, my boss, saw me weeks ago carting scrap wood and branches one night after work, and was curious. I told him I was building an arch for my wedding, and he offered to help. No further questions, just grabbed materials and huffed it onto the bed of my truck with me.
