Page 7 of The Mountain Man’s Curvy Bride (Mountain Man Sanctuary #3)

Wes

Sunlight filters through the curtains as I wake up, the warmth of Daisy nestled against my side reminding me vividly of last night.

My heart thuds heavily in my chest, equal parts excitement and anxiety swirling through me.

I pushed the boundaries, kissed her, held her close, and I can’t deny how right it felt.

But the morning light brings clarity—and doubt. Daisy deserves better than a half-hearted attempt at romance from a rusty mountain man who's spent years avoiding human contact. I need to show her that last night wasn't just a fleeting moment, that she matters.

A date. A real, honest-to-God date. I haven't been on one in years—hell, I barely remember what a proper date looks like. But for Daisy, I'll figure it out.

Carefully slipping from the bed, trying not to disturb her, I head into the kitchen to brew some coffee.

As the coffee percolates, filling the cabin with its rich aroma, I consider my options.

Dinner out is a safe bet, but I want to do something more personal, something she’ll remember. Daisy deserves something special.

I glance out the window, taking in the beauty of the mountains bathed in morning light, and an idea takes shape.

Daisy enters the kitchen moments later, rubbing her sleepy eyes, her hair tousled in a way that makes my chest tighten pleasantly. "Good morning," she murmurs, smiling softly.

"Morning," I reply, handing her a steaming mug. "Sleep okay?"

Her cheeks turn slightly pink. "Better than okay."

I clear my throat, feeling a bit awkward. "Good. Listen, about last night—I hope I didn't?—"

"Wes," she interrupts gently, her gaze steady and reassuring. "Last night was wonderful."

Relief washes over me, making me feel bolder. "Well, I was thinking we could go out today. On a real date."

Her eyes widen with surprise and delight. "Really? A date?"

"Yeah," I confirm, nerves bubbling in my stomach. "I haven't exactly done this in a while, but I'd like to do something special."

"I'd love that," she says warmly, excitement sparkling in her eyes. "What did you have in mind?"

I smile softly, feeling more confident. "It's a surprise. Just dress warmly, okay?"

She nods eagerly, grinning widely. "I can't wait."

Later that afternoon, I lead Daisy out to my truck, watching her eyes light up with curiosity.

Bundled up in warm sweaters and coats, we drive a short distance up the mountain to a secluded clearing I discovered years ago.

The view is breathtaking—majestic peaks towering over lush valleys, untouched snow sparkling under the fading sunlight.

I pull a heavy blanket and a basket from the truck bed, spreading the blanket carefully on the snowy ground.

Daisy looks around, eyes wide and appreciative. "Wes, this is incredible."

"Glad you like it," I say gruffly, settling beside her on the blanket and unpacking the basket. Inside are sandwiches, fruit, and a thermos of hot chocolate I'd prepared earlier.

We sit together, eating in companionable silence, the tranquility of the mountain surrounding us. The quiet beauty of the place eases my nerves, allowing me to relax fully for the first time in days.

"You surprised me," Daisy says finally, sipping her hot chocolate thoughtfully. "I didn't expect something so thoughtful."

I shrug slightly, trying to appear casual despite the warmth spreading through my chest at her praise. "You deserve thoughtful."

She looks down, cheeks flushing attractively. "You're pretty amazing, you know that?"

I chuckle softly, shaking my head. "Hardly."

Daisy reaches out, gently placing her hand on mine. "You are, Wes. You don't see it, but I do."

Her earnestness touches something deep inside me, making me want to know more about her. "Tell me about you, Daisy. Your past, your life before all this."

She hesitates for a brief moment, her gaze turning distant. "My past isn't exactly pretty."

"I want to know," I insist gently. "Everything."

Taking a deep breath, she begins slowly. "I grew up in a small town—not unlike this one, but less welcoming. My mom passed away when I was young, and my dad was distant at best, absent at worst. I spent a lot of time alone, dreaming about getting away."

She pauses, eyes shadowed with memories. "When I got older, I thought I'd found an escape in my ex-boyfriend, Steven. But it turned out he wasn't much better. Controlling, manipulative—he made me feel worthless."

My fists clench involuntarily at the pain in her voice. "I'm sorry, Daisy. You deserved better."

She nods softly, meeting my eyes again. "That's why I jumped at your ad. It felt like my only chance to start fresh, to finally take control of my life. And I'm so glad I did."

Her honesty floors me, leaving me momentarily speechless. Finally, I reach out, gently brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "You are worth so much, Daisy. Don’t ever let anyone make you feel otherwise."

She leans into my touch, eyes glistening. "Thank you, Wes."

We sit quietly together for a while longer, absorbing the beauty around us, letting the silence speak for everything unsaid between us.

As the sun begins to dip behind the mountains, casting the sky in hues of pink and gold, we gather our things and head back to the truck. Daisy slips her hand into mine as we walk, the simple gesture making my heart beat faster.

Back at the cabin, we settle comfortably by the fire, sharing quiet conversation and gentle touches. I can't help but feel amazed at how easily Daisy has fit into my life, into my heart.

Later, as we get ready for bed, she turns to me, eyes soft and inviting. "Thank you for today, Wes. It was perfect."

"It was," I agree quietly, pulling her into a warm embrace. "And it's just the beginning."

Her smile is radiant, lighting up my world brighter than the mountain stars outside. As we settle into bed together, I know one thing for certain—I’m falling for my wife, and for the first time in a long time, that thought doesn't scare me at all.

Somewhere in the middle of the night, my eyes open because I can feel Daisy’s body lying right next to me.

She’s close.

Too close.

She lets out a soft, breathy moan in her sleep, the sound curling through me like a live wire. I inch closer, heart hammering, torn between restraint and raw desire. My hands hover awkwardly, unsure where they belong.

Because what I want to be doing—sliding my hands over her curves, exploring every inch of her warm, yielding body—is miles away from what I should be doing.

But hell, my self-control snaps when she shifts, pressing her body into mine. I let out a low, hungry groan and tug her tighter against me, my fingers gripping her waist like I’ve been starving for this exact contact.

Her eyes flutter open, hazy with sleep, pupils dark and unfocused as they meet mine. I see the confusion, the soft vulnerability—and it’s like a fuse is lit inside me.

I lower my mouth to hers, capturing her lips in a kiss that’s anything but careful. It’s messy and desperate, tasting of heat and all the things I’ve been fighting to hold back.

Maybe it isn’t my smoothest move—probably ranks somewhere between reckless and downright foolish—but with her pressed so perfectly to me, her sleepy little sighs vibrating against my mouth, I couldn’t stop if I tried.

Because she’s too damn irresistible. And right now, I don’t want to be anywhere else but tangled up with her.

Her lips are soft and warm beneath mine, tasting faintly of the peppermint tea we shared before bed.

I angle my head, deepening the kiss, needing more of her.

My hand slides up from her waist to the curve of her ribs, pausing there, feeling the flutter of her breath.

She’s trembling, just a little, and I know it’s not from the cold.

God, she’s beautiful. My wife. My Daisy.

The thought hits me square in the chest. She’s mine now, in every way that counts. And while I might be a rough-around- the-edges mountain man who’s more used to handling timber and tools than tender moments, I’d tear down the world to make sure she knows how cherished she is.

She makes a soft sound against my mouth—almost a whimper—and it shatters the last bit of hesitation I was clinging to.

I nip at her bottom lip, then soothe it with my tongue, coaxing her to open up for me.

When she does, it’s like a dam breaking.

The sweet taste of her, the way she melts into me, her hands fisting in my T-shirt—it all combines into a rush of pure, blinding need.

I slide my hand higher, feeling her heart race under my palm, and ease her onto her back. Her hair fans out across my pillow, her cheeks flushed, eyes bright with a mix of nerves and want that damn near undoes me.

“Wes…” she breathes, my name barely more than a whisper, but it lights me up from the inside out.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” My voice is low, husky, and rough with all the things I’m feeling.

She bites her lip, like she’s trying to hold back, then finally lets out a shaky breath. “Don’t stop.”

That’s all the permission I need.

I lean down and kiss her again, slower this time, savoring every tiny hitch of her breath. My hand drifts to her thigh, slipping under the hem of her nightgown. Her skin is silky-smooth and so damn warm, and when I squeeze gently, she lets out a little gasp that shoots straight to my gut.

I pull back just enough to look at her—her eyes half-lidded, pupils blown wide, lips kiss-swollen. “Tell me if it’s too much, Daisy. I’ll stop. I swear it.”

She shakes her head immediately, her hands sliding up to cup my face. “No, Wes. Please… I want this. I want you. ”

A groan tears out of me, deep and guttural, because there’s nothing in this world I could ever want more than to be hers like this. I capture her mouth again, pouring every rough-edged promise I have into that kiss, determined to show my new bride exactly what forever with me is going to feel like.

She spreads her legs, and I thank the heavens above for bringing this woman to my front door. I keep layering kisses down her neck as I position myself between her inviting legs. I can’t believe I’m about to fuck my wife.

Is it too soon? I don’t want to scare her.

I gaze down into her big blue eyes, making sure this is okay for her. “You sure?” I grunt out the question.

She nods, biting her lower lip. “Yes, I know my wifely duties include this.”

Fuck. Hearing her say these words kills my mojo. It takes my dick from rearing to go to nothing. I sit up, pushing the covers over her body.

“Daisy, I’m not doing this because we’re contracted to do this.” I feel like a monster.

She shakes her head, placing her tiny hand on my arm. “Oh, I know you’re not. Neither am I.”

Daisy’s a people pleaser. That’s why she’s doing this. It’s the only reason. She wants to make me happy.

I applaud her drive, but it’s not what I’m looking for. “I’m going to sleep on the couch.” I grab a pillow, and a blanket from the closet.

“Did I do something wrong?” she asks, sitting up in the bed. “Wes?”

I glance at her over my shoulder. “No, Daisy. You’re perfect.” and I walk out the door, leaving her in my master bed.

A part of me thinks I’m crazy. I should march back in there and claim my wife. A huge part of me wants to, but I can’t. Not like this.

When I fuck Daisy, it’ll be because she’s begging for it.

I make my way down the hallway to the couch in the living room. I’m grumpy as ever, but I need to put this night behind me. I need sleep.

I need to stop thinking about how badly I want inside of my wife.