Curves for the Mountain Man Bonus Scene
Ginger
FIVE YEARS LATER
“Daddy, you’ll burn your tongue! The tea is hot!” Louise scolds, gasping at Roscoe.
The burly mountain man with burnished gold hair sits cross-legged, patiently playing with our five-year-old daughter in the front yard of our expansive cabin. The cabin has undergone a transformation over the past few years, making room for our growing family.
Our oldest child, Louise, loves nothing more than staging afternoon teas that would put royalty to shame with her long list of rules and expectations.
Roscoe pretends to blow ineptly on the imaginary liquid in his cup, exaggerating his attempts until Louise giggles and covers her mouth with both hands. Daddy remains her favorite afternoon tea guest, and he never disappoints with his patient demeanor and humorous antics. I can’t help but chuckle at the odd sight of the massive man seated on a fluffy pink blanket, holding a tiny plastic teacup in his hand. And I can’t ask for a better daddy for our children. Seeing how he interacts with Louise has healed my heart in so many ways when it comes to my own father.
“Oh, Daddy!” she scolds, shaking her head so hard it makes the blonde curls on her head sway from side to side. “Where are your manners?”
Langley, our one-and-a-half-year-old, is far more interested in devouring the teething cookie he holds, half-melted in his hands, while poised on my hip than in any tea party. He’s the spitting image of his daddy, with buttery wild locks and large, expressive baby blues.
“Daddy needs to get ready for tonight,” I remind Louise as gently as possible. My words still elicit an immediate pouty face that Roscoe has noted on several occasions obviously comes from me.
I’ve never thought of myself as a pouter, but sometimes, I have been known to stick my lip out with Roscoe to get what I want. Tonight’s no exception as I shoot a glance at my rugged husband. As much as I adore being a mom, I need a break, and I need my handsome mountain man all to myself.
Fortunately, my mother made time in her schedule to help and will be hanging out at our cabin for a few days while we stay in a cozy bed and breakfast in Alpha Ridge Creek. It’s a super cute bedroom community for New Brunswick, and it has a romance-only bookstore, Alpha Books, that I’ve been dying to visit. Besides adding more to my obscenely large TBR, we’ve got tickets to see an exhibition game of the Desperadoes, our closest professional hockey team. Neither of us is especially into the sport, but it’s hard not to get excited about the Desperadoes when they keep slaying in the playoffs.
I remind my baby girl, “Grandma will be here any minute, which means it’s time to bring your tea set back inside.”
She sighs forlornly.
“That way, you and Grandma can play tea even after it’s dark outside.”
This idea perks her up, turning her frown into a smile. It also motivates her to pick up the pace of cleaning up.
I watch my handsome husband help her, my heart warming at how gentle and sweet he is with our babies. He’s also more drop-dead gorgeous than ever. Roscoe decided to grow his beard back because he couldn’t get enough of my playing with it. As much as I loved his shaven look, there’s something so comforting about being able to run my fingers through his silky facial hair. It transports me back to the cave and how he comforted and cared for me after my rescue. He was still a total stranger to me, yet he managed to comfort me in ways no person ever has.
He no longer sports long hair, though. Instead, he’s chosen a short hairstyle. I think half of it has to do with the Italian barber, Alfonso, he started going to. They’ve become fast friends. Along with the ex-military, wounded warriors who live near our cabin that he’s started reaching out to more, Roscoe has developed a strong network of friends to help him when things get tough.
And I’m always ready to comfort him when the PTSD he deals with becomes extra difficult, stroking and massaging him, loving and bringing him back to me and this present reality. It isn’t always easy, but therapy has helped, and Roscoe’s commitment to being here for his family is unmatched and non-negotiable. He continues to be my hero in every way.
Roscoe’s depthless blue eyes capture mine, pulling me back from my thoughts and filling me with anticipation as he helps Louise gather her toys. They sear into me with a longing that leaves a tight knot in my throat. My heart races, anticipating the heady pleasures awaiting us now that we’re finally able to make time for ourselves as a couple.
“But our bed & breakfast is in Alpha Ridge Creek,” I say, pointing as Roscoe turns off the freeway towards New Brunswick.
My husband reaches over, grabbing my hand and kissing it gently. “Yes, it is. But I thought it was about time we go on an official date.”
“Oh, that sounds wonderful!” I exclaim as the smile on his face makes his eyes crinkle at the corners.
“Where are we going?”
“That’s a surprise,” he says, fingering my wedding band with a warm smile. “I don’t want you to worry about anything, Sweetness. Just relax and enjoy the pampering you deserve.”
We pull up and park in front of a quaint-looking two-story Italian restaurant called Luciano’s. Roscoe rounds the vehicle, opens my door, and offers his hand to help me out of the raised truck. Walking through the gloaming of a late August evening, the air feels warm, and stars twinkle overhead—the perfect vibe for an evening of magic.
Inside, we’re greeted by a huge, hulking Italian man, who turns out to be Luciano himself. He leads us through the warm, Tuscan-style restaurant filled with the mouthwatering smells of garlic, fresh basil, and parmesan. My stomach growls at the delectable smells coming from the kitchen. With an impatient hand gesture, he urges us outside to the patio strung with tealights.
The intimate area has five tables and chairs, and we’re the only guests out here. I wonder if Roscoe rented out the whole seating area. The mischievous smile that lights up his face when I shoot a questioning glance in his direction tells me everything I need to know. The smell of lilacs and roses fills my nostrils as I take in overflowing vases filled with the burgeoning purple flowers and large, pale pink roses. The floral decor is Roscoe’s work, too. He never does a date halfway.
“Roscoe, what did you do? This is absolutely stunning!”
My handsome bearded mountain man smiles from ear to ear. “So, I did okay?”
“Are you serious? Beyond okay. This is so beautiful and perfect,” I say, covering my mouth with my hand, my vision swirling and blurring.
“No, the only beautiful and perfect thing in this world is you, Sweetness. The love of my life, the woman who gave my life meaning, my wife for all eternity, and the mother of my children.” He pulls me into his large, muscular arms, sweeping me off my feet and twirling me gently around while Luciano excuses himself to go find our server.
Roscoe intertwines his fingers with mine, leading me to our table, which bears the most picturesque bouquet of the bunch, pulling out my chair and inviting me to sit. He takes the seat across from me, holding my hand atop the table, his eyes overflowing with love and his mischievous, lopsided grin hinting at where this evening will eventually lead. I can’t wait, thirsty for some alone time with my husband. Especially since things are about to get even more hectic.
We enjoy a delectable, multi-course dinner with no expense spared. When I decline wine and then the seafood special, Roscoe’s eyes betray a glint of curiosity, and his cheeks darken. But our waiter shows back up, asking about entrees and distracting my rugged warrior. I’ve never been able to keep a secret from my husband for long, though.
He can read me in ways that feel uncanny, maybe even a little supernatural. This time, I’m determined to unveil the news at our bed and breakfast, though. I’ve already made arrangements with the owner to have a small cake waiting for us with a stork and a baby decorating it. The way he looks at me now, though, excitement flooding his face, tells me he already knows.
After Roscoe feeds me the last bite of the sinfully rich strawberry cheesecake that we share for dessert, he pulls out a long black velvet box, putting it on the table in front of me.
“What’s this?” I ask, delight spilling from my voice and my face.
“A little reminder of how much you mean to your family, Mama,” he says fondly, sliding his big, rough fingers back and forth over my dainty ones. “Although something tells me we’re going to have to add to this imminently.”
I arch my eyebrow, and he laughs, nodding towards the box, urging me to open it. My hand covers my mouth as I gasp at the shiny gold charm bracelet inside.
Clearing his throat, Roscoe says gruffly, “It has three charms on it. The heart charm is a reminder of me, the baby rattle is for Langley, and the teacup is for Louise, of course. But,” he adds, his smile growing. “Between the no wine and no desserts with raw eggs, I’m pretty damn sure we’ll be adding another charm to this soon.” He furrows his brows, looking at me hopefully.
“I wanted it to be a secret. But I can’t keep anything from you. It’s like you can read my mind or something.”
He shrugs. “It’s a soulmate thing. And it’s also careful observation and noticing you opted out of all your favorite foods tonight. That was a dead giveaway.”
I nod, happily soaking up the joy that floods his face. No man on this planet is better suited to be a dad, and he’s done the hard work with years of therapy to get here. It’s hard to believe this handsome, amazing, wonderful husband and father once came so close to giving up. But Roscoe’s made me believe in destiny, fate, kismet, God, whatever you want to call it. And that divine intervention began on the day fate threw us together.
“This is the best gift you could possibly give me,” he says, his eyes and voice filling with emotion. “How far along do you think you are?”
“My guess is about four weeks.”
“When’s our first appointment with Dr. Jensen?”
“Two weeks from now, which is why I want to take full advantage of this time alone before the craziness of preparing for a third baby sets in.”
“You know, we’re out of middle names. What will we call this baby?”
“What, you don’t already have a name picked out? I thought you were the guy who said you wanted ten kids. You’re slacking in your duties.”
Roscoe laughs. “Ten sounded like a fantastic idea as a single man who always wanted kids and didn’t have any. But three or four sounds better from the perspective of a happily married man and father.”
“Why so few?” I tease.
“Because a selfish part of me wants my wife all to myself…at least, every now and again.” He strokes his beard pensively. “We’ll definitely need to speed up the addition we have Heath working on.” Heath is one of the ex-military wounded warriors who makes his home near us. He’s an architect and has been helping Roscoe with plans to enlarge the four-bedroom cabin we’ve already made a couple of additions to.
He’s also been entertaining us with stories of his dating escapades. So far, no matching sites have done the trick. So, he’s considering something I didn’t even know existed in this present day and age—a mail-order bride service.
“We’re going to end up living in the equivalent of a wooden castle with the rate we keep increasing our home’s footprint.”
“And I’m one hundred percent down for it, Ginger. But are you happy? Do you ever miss teaching?”
I shrug. “Sometimes, but I’ll get back to it. There’s nothing more precious than having this time with our babies. Thank you for earning the kind of living that allows me to stay at home with them.”
“Thank you for being such an amazing mama. I couldn’t have asked for a better answer to my prayers than you, Sweetness. Now, what do you say we get out of here? We have a cozy bed and breakfast suite calling our names, and I’ve got plans for every way I’m going to adore your body and make you feel like the most loved wife on the planet.”
“I already do,” I answer, tears of joy filling my eyes.
Curves for the Mountain Man is a part of the Whispered Echoes – A Spicy Wounded Mountain Man series, featuring 21 of your favorite small-town romance authors. Check out all the books in this steamy, heartfelt, action-packed series.
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