Page 1 of Backed By You (Montgomery Brothers of Montana #3)

Beau

“I said, I don’t need it,” I growl, attempting to maneuver around the flight attendant holding out the cane they forced me onto this damn plane with.

“But Mr. Montgomery, you—”

I stalk past the woman and down the aisle to the exit.

My knee is stiff from the long flight, but it’s manageable.

I’ve been doing physical therapy nonstop for the last four months, during and after sessions.

After two knee surgeries to repair the tendons and muscles and a full joint replacement—which a single stray bullet destroyed—I’m walking.

And like hell I’ll be seen using a damn cane at thirty-three.

Deboarding the plane, I toss my military-grade backpack over my shoulder and head to baggage claim. It’s surreal being back in Montana. Home .

After serving my country for the last fifteen years, I’ve been honorably discharged from the army. I wasn’t ready to leave my brothers-in-arms behind, but life has a sick way of handing out cards, and this card…I’m going to have to play.

I’ll be moving forward with my fallback plan of building and managing rental cabins in the popular ski resort mountains of Whitetail.

Between my parents and siblings, they’ve done a good job of managing my property and the two rentals while I’ve been away. But I’ll be taking over everything. Hell, I’ll need the distraction, because after getting shot in the fucking knee, my military career is over.

My jaw ticks as I come around the corner at the congested airport in Whitetail.

My entire family is lined up beside the baggage claim with ‘Welcome Home, Beau’ signs.

Christ . I mean, I get it. I haven’t been home for over three years, but this isn’t the homecoming I wanted. In fact, I didn’t want one at all.

“There he is,” my father booms.

“Beau,” Ma shouts, rushing toward me.

I go through the motions of hugs and hellos. I plaster on a fake smile as best I can, but I’m willing to bet it looks more like a fucked-up grimace.

My four brothers, sister, nephew, my parents—everyone looks about the same as when I saw them last. Except now, there are two women I don’t recognize with babies on their hips and wedding rings on their fingers—my apparent ‘sisters-in-law’ Ma mentioned on the phone a few months ago.

Duke introduces me to his wife, Maci, and their ten-month-old daughter, Olivia—who looks exactly like her mother, with deep red hair and green eyes, while Butch introduces me to his wife, Cassidy, and their nine-month-old son, Gage—a mini version of Butch with his mother’s blue eyes.

Half my siblings seem to have started a family while I was away. Even my nephew Parker has sprouted like a weed since the last picture Lily sent me.

Meanwhile, I haven’t felt the embrace of a woman in…a long time.

My chest tightens at the thought.

“How the hell are you, Beau?” Duke grins, giving me a burly hug.

I grunt.

“You look good, man,” Rhett says. “How’s the knee?”

“Fine,” I say, reaching for my duffle on the rotating belt beside me.

Levi snatches the bag at the last second. “I’ve got it, man.” He winks while hefting it over his shoulder. “No worries.”

I grit my teeth. This is going to be more frustrating than I anticipated.

You could say I’ve gotten along with my siblings over the years. Mainly because I keep my mouth shut and watch the bullshit from the sidelines.

Not that our personalities match in the slightest from what I can remember. I’m a loner; they’re all about family. I joined the military; they started businesses and stayed close to home. Hell, I’m the only one who’s ever left the country.

“Is that all you have, sweetie?” Ma asks.

“Yeah.”

“Well, let’s hit it, kids.” My father claps. “Your mother’s got a roast waiting at home that’s calling my name.”

There’s a collective bit of laughter amongst everyone. Except me. I was hoping to go straight to the cabin.

Duke slaps a hand on my shoulder. “You’re riding with us, bro.”

We head to his truck, and I take the front seat, while Maci and Olivia sit in the back. I stare out the window, taking in everything that’s changed since the last time I was here.

“So, how was Washington, DC?” my brother asks, glancing between me and the road. “Ma said that’s where they sent you after they got you back stateside.”

“Best knee surgeon in the States is stationed there,” I grumble.

He nods. “You, uh, feeling good? I mean, you look fuckin’ great. Like you haven’t taken a break from the gym or whatever the hell they had you doin’ for recovery.”

I’ve never been one to sit idly by when there’s work to be done. Whether that’s leading my squadron or pushing my body to heal—it’s all the same to me.

I don’t respond.

Maci clears her throat. “We talked to Callie and let her know that if she needs anything to give you a call. But, um, we don’t have your new phone number to give her.”

My brow furrows. “Who?”

“Callie Ryan,” Duke says, like I’m supposed to know who that is. “She’s your tenant. She moved into the one-bedroom cabin, been renting it for four months.”

“Almost five,” Maci corrects.

Right. She’s the one staying in my cabin. The one my mother was supposed to make sure was vacant for me when I got home. But lines got crossed, and it was already rented out before I made it known I wanted it for myself. “Got it.”

“Maci and I, we’ve sort of taken over all the scheduling for the other cabin,” he tells me. “Maci set you up a sweet website and everything. It’s been blowing up with bookings.”

She leans forward from the back with a kind smile. “I made sure it was free for you this weekend, though. Well, the next three nights at least. It’s kind of booked after that…”

I scowl. Fuck.

“Ma thinks you’re going to want to stay at the house, but I figured we’d offer up our spare bedroom before she hounded you,” Duke says.

“Thanks, but I’ll figure something out.”

Duke raises a brow. “You sure, Beau? I mean, Butch’s got a spare room, too. Rhett and Levi got a pullout couch. Wherever you want. Lily’s working on moving out of Ma’s finally, so if you want to stay there, I doubt it’d be a big deal.”

I huff. The idea of staying with any of my family sounds more fucking miserable than sleeping in the deserts of Iraq with active gunfire.

I don’t need this kind of back-and-forth right out the gate.

“Um, there are breaks between bookings,” Maci says quietly. “Usually so Julie can clean between renters, but if you’re looking for somewhere to stay, I’m sure you can in between. If you don’t mind moving around to get a little privacy.”

I nod. That , I can deal with.

Changing the subject, I ask, “Did you take a look at that truck I sent you? Is it worth the money for what I’m planning on doing with it?”

Duke sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, it’s a good truck. I let Steve at the dealership know you were flying in today. Said he’d hold it for you to have a look for yourself.”

“Good.”

“You’re not gonna take a fuckin’ break to save your life, are you?” my brother mutters.

Not if I have anything to say about it .

“Duke, I’ve been sitting on my ass for the last five months. Working through recovery, physical therapy, and dealing with getting discharged. I don’t need a fuckin’ break, all right? What I do need is for everyone to get off my ass when I just got back in town.”

He shakes his head, turning down the driveway to my parents’ place.

Three years since I’ve set foot in Montana, since I’ve been home… Three long, lonely years. And all I want is to be left alone.

I stare up the road toward my property, itching to get over there and start blocking off measurements for the next cabin.

The very idea of manual labor has my blood heating.

I need that , I realize. Sweat on my brow, the familiar ache in my muscles from a hard day’s work, the peace that kind of solitude brings me.

My family may think thrusting me into some bonding dinner party is what I need right now, but it’s the last thing I want.

And it sure as shit ain’t the kind of lonely I need fixing.

After dinner—and countless pictures with everyone —I try to get away and head to the cabin, but I’m thrown into more talking about this ‘double wedding’ happening in less than two months for Butch, Duke, and their women.

Which sounds like a waste to me, given they’re already married, but what the hell do I know? All I want is to get to the cabin, shower, and go to bed so I can start fresh in the morning with my list of projects.

I stand from my father’s favorite recliner in the living room—he wasn’t fooling anyone by insisting I sit here. I’ve been breathing Montana air for less than six hours and I’ve had enough coddling for a lifetime. “Thanks for dinner, Ma, but I think I’m going to head out. I’m pretty beat.”

“You can take my truck tonight, Beau,” my father says, tossing me his truck keys.

I catch them. “Thanks.” I lift my chin to Butch, the logger of the family. “I’ll give you a shout when I get the land blocked out and we’ll get those trees hauled away.”

He eyes me, judging, but keeps his thoughts to himself. “Sounds good.”

Rhett raises his beer in my direction. “I’ll put the lumber order in as soon as you get the building specs, brother. We’ve got you.”

After a quick goodbye, I head to the truck and toward the cabin. It’s a short ride, a mile curve up the road, but that’s about the distance between my family on this mountainside.

I park in front of the two-bedroom rental and breathe a heavy sigh as I take in the familiar sight. Well, it might as well be un familiar with how many damn potted and hanging flowers are all over the place. Did my mother do this?

I’ve never been one for flowers.

The majority seem to be centered around the single-bedroom cabin. The front porch, along the cabin side, the stone walkway, the driveway—they’re fucking everywhere .

I get out, staring at the outdoor rustic, black lantern light mounted beside the front door—idly noting it doesn’t match the one on the other cabin. It crosses my mind that I should introduce myself, but I decide against it.

I’m already irritated enough this evening.

I walk up the steps of the two-bedroom cabin where I’ll be crashing for the next three nights, the soreness in my knee reminding me to do my nightly stretches.

When I unlock the door, a car pulls in behind me. I turn as a baby-blue Jeep Wrangler with the top down and the doors off, whips in beside my father’s truck.

My brow furrows as the wild woman driving throws it in park, carelessly leaving the Jeep angled at forty-five degrees and the wheels turned to the right. Not even close to properly straight. Doesn’t she know that leaving a car parked in such a state is bad for the drive shaft and alignment?

My irrational irritation soon fades when a goddess hops down from the driver’s seat.

Light grey sweatpants, a white tank top, and pink flip-flops. Sunkissed tan skin, hourglass curves, honey-blonde hair in loose curls that stop with a bounce just above her shoulders.

I’m awestruck.

And a fuckin’ moron.

She reaches into the backseat of her car, her sweats stretching taut over her plump ass and making my cock thicken.

Thighs, ass, hips, the dip of her waist, her ample chest—no bra and pert nipples.

Even the slightest details have me captivated…

from the peppered freckles along her shoulder blades to the small rose tattoo on her exposed ankle.

This can’t be my tenant .

A loud, aggressive bark snaps me back to reality.

A giant-ass German Shepherd leaps down from the passenger seat. This dog is easily three times the size of any German Shepherd I’ve ever seen.

He stands behind the woman…protectively.

Honey-blonde locks whip in surprise over a gorgeous face free of makeup and… Fuck . Her full lips part, hazel doe eyes wide with thick lashes that grab at the heart strings I didn’t know I had.

Everything about her looks like honey . Eyes, hair, skin.

She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

But when she scurries to grab her wallet and a plastic to-go bag, my brow furrows as the dog stays beside her, pressing his body against her thigh while watching me . And as they reach her cabin door, I realize this is, in fact, my tenant—Callie Ryan— with a dog.

I thought I made it clear to Duke when I said, “ No pets allowed .”

No exceptions.