Page 19 of Mountain Man’s Curvy Girl (Summer In The Pines #4)
Chloe
The rain outside is falling thick and fast, blanketing the mountain in a soft, white quiet. Inside the cabin, though, it’s anything but peaceful.
“Ethan, it’s fine,” I say, biting back a laugh as he lugs another ridiculously large package through the door. He’s shirtless—again—his flannel pajama pants hanging low on his hips, and there’s a smear of dirt across his chest from God-knows-what project he’s been working on.
“It’s not fine,” he grumbles, setting the package down with a thud that rattles the floor. “The crib was a piece of shit. I’m not putting my kid in something that’ll fall apart if I sneeze too hard.”
I try not to laugh, but it’s impossible. “You’ve already built two cribs. And a bassinet. And what about the playpen in the corner? What exactly do you think the baby’s going to do in the first six months?”
He glares at me, but it’s the kind of glare that makes my stomach flutter rather than shrink. “They’re going to sleep. Safely. In something solid.”
I shake my head, leaning back on the couch and resting my hands on the curve of my belly.
I’m eight months pregnant, and Ethan has turned full alpha-caretaker mode up to eleven.
If he’s not building something for the baby, he’s fussing over me— bringing me food, insisting I rest, hovering like I’m about to pop any second.
“Come sit,” I say, patting the couch beside me. “The baby doesn’t need a third crib, Ethan. What they need is you. Preferably not passed out from overexertion.”
He hesitates for a moment, his gaze flicking between me and the offending package, before finally sighing and sitting down beside me. The couch dips under his weight, and his hand immediately finds my belly, his rough, warm palm spreading over the curve.
“They’re kicking again,” he murmurs, his voice softening as his thumb brushes against my skin.
“Because you’re riling them up,” I tease, though my heart swells at the way he looks at me—at us. Like we’re his whole world.
“They’re strong,” he says, his lips curving into a faint smile. “Just like their mom.”
I laugh softly, leaning into his side as his arm wraps around me, pulling me close. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”
“Yeah,” he says, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “But you love me anyway.”
I tilt my head up to look at him, my hand resting over his. “I do. Even when you’re driving me crazy with all this nesting.”
He grins, his blue-gray eyes crinkling at the corners, and leans down to kiss me. It’s soft at first, but there’s heat there too, the kind that hasn’t faded even a little since the first time he kissed me.
“You’re mine,” he murmurs against my lips.
“Always,” I whisper, smiling as his hand slides back to my belly.
* * *
The fire crackles in the hearth, the rain outside a quiet backdrop to the warmth of the cabin. Ethan is lying beside me in bed, his hand tracing lazy circles on my hip as he watches me with that same intense, possessive gaze that always makes my pulse quicken.
“You know,” he says, his voice low and rough. “We should probably start thinking about names.”
I laugh softly, resting my hand over his. “You mean you haven’t already decided?”
He smirks, his thumb brushing over my skin. “I have a few ideas. But I figure I should let you think you have a say.”
I roll my eyes, but the warmth in my chest doesn’t fade. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re perfect,” he says, leaning down to kiss me. “The two of you.”
As his lips move against mine, I can’t help but think about how much has changed since that night in the truck. I was nervous, unsure of what was happening between us, but now? Now, I know exactly where I belong. Right here.
THE END.