Forever With the Mountain Man Bonus Scene

Felicity

THREE YEARS LATER

Grandma and Grandpa Amestoy’s faces light up with smiles when they see Fierce and I pull up in our silver dually with our babies.

Three-year-old Lander has thick black curls and a robust frame with a mischievous face like his daddy’s, and Amaya is one and half years old with pretty pink cheeks and thick sculpted lips like mine.

Her head is crowned in a gorgeous mane of glossy brown curls, and both babies have big, blue eyes that remind me of their father and me. Every day is filled with new discoveries and achievements for Lander and Amaya, and today their grandparents get to share them, too.

When I close my eyes, I can still see the surprise and joy written on Fierce’s face with each of our babies the first time they said “Daddy.” I could never ask for a better husband or father to our children. He’s loving and attentive and more absorbed with his role as a protector than any man I’ve ever known, despite splitting his time between sheepherding and cheesemaking. And his cheesemaking company has exploded in huge ways, even making its way onto French Laundry’s menu.

Since relocating from San Francisco to Rough & Ready, I’ve taken up long distance studies at the University of Nevada, Reno, for the anthropology department, working on a master’s degree that includes joint studies with the Basque language department, the only one of its kind in the United States.

Today, Fierce is taking me horseback riding to show me arborglyphs he recently stumbled on while out with the sheep. These are images carved into aspen trees nearly one hundred years ago by Basque shepherds working in this area, and I’ve made a name for myself at UNR for the plethora of new ones I’ve discovered and my ability to decipher them, thanks to the Amestoys’ priceless colloquial knowledge.

Read Now

When we get out, Aita and Ama rush up to hug their son and me before helping us remove Lander and Amaya from their carseats. Our babies greet them in Basque, and Aita and Ama’s eyes well with tears as they compliment their grandchildren’s words, conversing with them. Fierce always told me his parents would calm down and accept me once we made them grandparents, and this has been true in every way. In fact, I feel blessed to have such attentive parents-in-law.

As for my parents who live in the Bay Area, we visit as often as we can, and as I promised Fierce, they both adore him. My mom can’t stop going on and on about what a handsome catch he is, and Dad was immediately won over by Fierce’s work ethic and intense need to care for and protect me.

Since beginning my studies at UNR, I’ve also taken a handful of Basque language courses, and while I wouldn’t call myself fluent by any means, my attempts to learn and converse in the family’s language has gone a long ways toward paving a better relationship with them. When it’s all said and done, Ama’s deepest fear has been the same thing all along, a loss of culture from generation to generation. The Basque are a proud people, after all, and maintaining their traditions, language, and beliefs is crucial to ensuring their heritage not only is preserved but thrives. Finding out about my most recent studies and the Basque arborglyphs I’m helping to find and record for the historical record has warmed the Amestoys’ hearts in many ways.

And Ama and Aita have apologized profusely to me over the years, along with the rest of Fierce’s family, making it clear that they are delighted by my attempts to fit in and even more so by how happy I make their boy. As Fierce predicted, Julen and Daphne hit it off in big ways, marrying a few months after Fierce and me, and they recently welcomed twin girls.

As we ride our horses up a steep trail, Fierce asks me occasionally how I’m doing. I ride the uber-sweet Quarter horse, Gracie. She makes me feel like an intuitive rider even though it took me awhile to get into the whole cowgirl thing after moving here. But I’ve grown used to the rugged nature of backwoods excursions on the Amestoy Ranch. We eventually come to a stunning grove of ancient aspens with thick, gnarled trunks. I can only guess at the age of these trees, though they give off a timeless vibe.

We dismount, and Fierce ties up the horses by the stream so they can drink. Then, he points out carvings that are funny and shocking. There’s one of a voluptuous naked woman with Basque words that Fierce and I work together to translate. “Something like ‘women and wine are good’ right, mon bébé?” I ask.

My handsome black-haired mountain man runs his hand through his thick locks, laughing. “Yes, and then look here. There is another carving that looks like a follow up from another shepherd, saying ‘Both are hard on the pocket.'”

“These guys had a sense of humor,” I observe, stepping back to take photos of the carvings.

“Yes, and I’d say they were lonely shepherds, too,” Fierce says running his hand over his beard. “Only instead of Mountain Mates, their only relief came in carving the women they dreamt of.” We’ve found many different carvings since documenting long-forgotten arborglyphs together, including some rather racy ones of men and women having sex along with others far more pastoral and tame. They all point to the same fact that these young men wanted to leave their mark, even as they dealt with a harsh job that came with isolation in a foreign country and much daydreaming about finding a lover.

“Did you ever carve anything on aspens?” I tease my husband as we continue looking around the grove, finding more text carvings to record.

“No, ma luciole. I’ve never had to stay out so long as some of these fellows, not knowing if they would ever find a woman in their new homeland or longing for the woman they left behind to come here and make a living before bringing her from the Old Country. But thank God I found you, Felicity. If you think about all the naughty photos and things we did together before meeting, are some of these carvings really so different?”

“You have a point,” I say, running my fingers over another series of black scars in a tree trunk. “This one here is talking about missing home.”

Fierce steps closer, nodding as he works to piece it together. We’ve worked hard over the past couple of years to help him read better despite his dyslexia, and things come easier for him now. Apparently, everyone was so caught up in his high school football career that his literacy fell by the wayside.

After documenting the new arborglyphs and photographing them, Fierce leads me to a beautiful spot by the stream, where he spreads a blanket from his saddlebag, pulling out a mini feast of cheese, bread, fruit, and wine. “You outdid yourself, my husband,” I croon, my stomach growling, and he motions for me to sit next to him. I nestle by him, sitting close enough to feel his warmth because the early May weather is beautiful but still a little nippy at this elevation. He feeds me affectionately, practicing Basque with me, and smiling broadly. “Your accent is getting better and better. I’m impressed.” His eyes swim with emotion. “Thank you, ma luciole, for all you’ve done to fit in with my family. I know it has been anything but an easy task, and they made it very hard in the beginning.”

“Anything for you, mon bébé, ” I say, palming his cheek. “Besides, being a part of your family, once we got over the crazy drama, has been a truly amazing experience. And one that’s furthered the career I’ve always wanted as a travel writer and cultural anthropologist.”

“And you have given me the strength to forge my own path, making a name in the cheese industry. Thank you so much, mon amour.” As he says this, he places a slice of his cheese between my lips, and I moan happily, closing my eyes and savoring its rich flavor and how it melts in my mouth. From herd-to-table. It doesn’t get any better.

Fierce takes a swig from the bottle of wine before handing it to me, and then he leans back against the log, eyeing me warmly, his face relaxed and seductive.

“What are you thinking, my husband?” I ask in a silky voice, my cheeks flushing.

“I’m thinking about one of my first confessions to you.”

“Which one?”

“After you let the towel drop in my living room, and I pleasured you. Remember how you returned the favor, and before you took my cock in your mouth, I told you that I wanted to fill you with my seed. Plant one of our babies in your pretty, round stomach.”

“Mmm,” I moan softly, my heart racing. “How could I ever forget that? But what makes you think about it now?”

He holds out his arms, motioning for me to crawl into his lap. I set the wine down carefully, replacing the stopper before seductively straddling him. “Because I think it’s time we make another baby. What are your thoughts?”

I lean forward, covering his soft lips with mine and smiling. “I would love for you to fill me with another of our babies. Nothing would make me happier.”

“Oh, yeah?” he says, breathlessly, reaching between us to unbutton and unzip his Wrangler’s.

“Yes, baby. You’ve made me the happiest woman on the face of this planet, and I can’t think of anything better than making love to you and adding to our family.”

“Good,” he says with a gorgeous grin, living up to what Callie declared him years ago, a rural Henry Cavill, as he rocks me forward so I’m lying atop him and he helps me unbutton and unzip my jeans. His big rough hands glide over my lacy black silk panties, hungrily squeezing my ass. He helps me slither out of them, too, before he takes me in the shade of the aspen grove, sliding into me sensually and slowly and leaning forward to bury his head beneath my shirt, worshipping my tits through the lace of my bra.

He frees his head after delectable teasing that nearly pushes me over the edge, and we savor every moment of the yummy bliss that married life has brought us, cherishing each others’ bodies as we fill the quiet of the forest with our heavy breathing and screams of ecstasy. And all thanks to an unexpected pairing on Mountain Mates Dating site that, despite shocking twists and turns, transformed into all I could ever want—forever with my mountain man.

Jess & Logan

True crime reporter Jess is looking forward to a relaxing vacation in the picturesque Sierra Nevada mountains—where she’s caught off guard by her undeniable connection to her best friend’s gorgeous brother-in-law, Logan. They agree to a no-strings-attached, one-night stand, but when Jess’s profession puts her in danger, Logan will stop at nothing to rescue the woman who’s stolen his heart. 

Read Now

Thirsty for more sexy cowboy mountain men and sassy curvy girls? Explore the Rough & Ready Country series, available for purchase or free in KU. One-click to start the bestselling series now.

If you enjoyed Forever With the Mountain Man, check out the rest of the Mountain Man Mail Order Bride Series, featuring your favorite steamy romance authors doing what they do best—short, spicy quickies, sure to make your heart race. One-click to devour the series now.