Property Of The Mountain Man (Montana Mountain Men Book 1)

My grin doesn’t leave my face the entire way from town back up the mountain to grab the spare tire we need on the job site; nor when I pull my truck to a stop on the half-felled shift of trees we’re working in today.

Bonnie is a pain in my ass, she’s also the most perfect women I’ve ever encountered. She’s not meek, but she’s not cocky either. She’s the perfect blend of both. She calls me on my shit, and has no problem shouting at me when she’s pissed, but she’s still oblivious to just how obsessed I am with her and how much power that gives her over me.

Normally I’d be in the crew with the guys, supervising and pitching in to help make sure we hit quota for the day, but I’m so distracted with memories of Bonnie in my bed, her ass in the air, the small whimpers and moans she made while I finger fucked her into a screaming orgasm, that I know there’s no way I can stay safe around falling logs and fucking chainsaws.

“You’re so fucking whipped and it’s been, what? Three days,” Teddy laughs, slapping me on the shoulder as he pulls on his safety equipment ready to get back to work.

“Three fucking days,” I groan. “She owns my ass and she’s completely fucking clueless. She still thinks this is a choice for me, it’s not, it’s a compulsion. She’s so utterly mine, I couldn’t stay away if I tried.”

Her text message comes through at three fifteen and I smile to myself as I click into it.

Bonnie – Owen’s not coming so I’m here till close. I don’t need a babysitter and I’m more than capable of locking up on my own. If I tell you not to come will it make any difference?

I reply immediately.

Me – No difference at all, save me a bear claw and have a kiss ready for me, I’ll be there same time as normal xoxo

Bonnie – Worth a try, see you later x

Like a kid getting his first note off a girl, I preen at the kiss she’s put at the end of her text. I’ve never been a needy guy until her, now I crave her attention, needing to get as deep under her skin as I can before she tries to run from me again. I told her I was possessive, unreasonable, and jealous, but she makes all those feelings seem amplified. I want all of her. All her attention, all her time, all her affection, I want it all, and even thought I know it’s too much, too soon, I just can’t stop.

Counting down the minutes until I can go to her, I force myself to stay in my office until the last minute, rather than head down into town to stalk her at work. She’s already been pissed at me once today, and I might have smoothed things over with the orgasm I gave her earlier, but I don’t want to push her too far when I have to convince her to stay with me again tonight.

Exactly thirty minutes before the coffee shop shuts, I climb into my truck and head down into town. She’s smiling at a customer when I push through the door, and jealousy rages so hot and so fast through me that I have to blink to see through the red haze that’s coated my eyes.

Forcing a relaxed smile onto my lips, I stride up to the counter, not punching the dickhead customer she’s talking to in the face as I wait for her to turn her attention to me.

“Hey,” she says, still smiling when she looks at me.

“Hey baby girl,” I rasp, fighting to keep the unbidden anger from my voice. “You got something for me?” I ask, raising my eyebrows in question.

“I don’t think so,” she says playfully.

“Get over here,” I growl, chuckling as I curl my arm around her back and pull her to me, my palm finding her ass when I see the asshole customer is watching. “Kiss me,” I demand, grinning smugly when she lifts up and places her lips on mine.

Reluctantly letting her pull away from me, I stay by the counter drinking the coffee she makes for me and eating the pastry she saved for me as she closes down the shop, turning off the coffee machine and cleaning down the counters.

Once the last customer leaves, I lock the door and clean off the tables, doing what I can to help while she loads the dishwasher in the back. I consider going back there, but I don’t trust myself not to get her naked if I do, and I refuse to fuck her for the first time in the back of a coffee shop.

“You about done?” I ask.

“Yep I think so, just need to grab my purse,” she says happily, disappearing into the back again and coming out a moment later with her purse and her cell in her hand.

I follow her out, just like I’ve done almost every day for a year, and wait at her side while she locks the front door.

“You really didn’t need to wait,” she says.

Rolling my eyes, I grab her chin and kiss her.

“Night,” she whispers.

“Come on, we can eat at your place then you can pack a bag for tomorrow.”

“What?” she asks, her eyes narrowed, her head shaking.

“We can’t sleep at your place, we’ll never fit in your bed, plus I’m pretty sure your daddy will shoot me if you make as much noise tonight as you did last night,” I laugh.

“I didn’t…” she trails off.

“You didn’t what?” I question.

“I didn’t know you wanted to see me again tonight,” she says, pulling her keys from her purse and gripping them tightly in her hands. “I’m kind of tired and I have work again in the morning, I usually make muffins or scones for the guys on the ranch in the mornings, and I have to prep dinner for me and Daddy,” she rambles, edging backwards towards her car.

“Okay so we’ll eat at yours, I’ll make some cookies while you go pack some stuff, and your dad can come have dinner with us and my brothers tomorrow night because it’s my night to cook,” I tell her, taking her keys from her hands and leading her over to her car and opening the door.

She opens her mouth to argue, but I kiss her, silencing any protest she might have been about to say. “I’ll follow you home,” I tell her, sliding her key into the ignition before I head to my truck.

She still looks bewildered twenty minutes later when I park my truck behind her car outside her house. Smiling, I drape my arm across her shoulders and walk us both up to the house, opening the front door for her. Following her in, I kick off my boots in the hall and trail her to the kitchen where Hal is sitting at the table nursing a beer, the radio playing the Rat Pack in the background.

“Hey Daddy,” Bonnie says, greeting her dad with a kiss on the cheek before she crosses to the crock pot.

“Hey sweetheart, how was work?” he asks.

“It was fine, Owen was too sick to come today, I think that’s the fifth stomach bug he’s had this month, he should probably go see a doctor,” she says sarcastically, as she grabs some potato’s and fills the sink with water.

“Evening Beau, you eating with us?” Hal asks.

“Yes, sir,” I tell him, following Bonnie to the sink. “You go pack some stuff, are these potatoes for mash or fries?” I ask, taking the knife and peeler from her hands and nudging her to the side with my hip.

“Mash, I was going to do some corn to go with it as well,” she says, looking up at me with a slightly confused and unsure expression again.

“I can do that,” I say with a nod, kissing her quickly then dropping the potatoes in the sink, not turning to watch her leave, even though I want to.

“How’d you feel about eating with me and my brothers tomorrow night?” I ask Hal. “We take it in turns to cook, and tomorrow’s my night.”

“What you making?” he asks.

“Meatballs, my mama’s recipe,” I tell him, peeling then slicing the potatoes into the pot.

“Sounds good to me,” Hal says.” You want a beer?”

“Thanks,” I tell him. Setting the water to boil as I peel the last of the potatoes and add them to the water. Grabbing another pot, I add corn and fill that with water too. “Bonnie mentioned she usually makes muffins or scones for the ranch workers in the morning, would cookies be good for a change, that way I can make them tonight and she doesn’t have to worry about it in the morning.”

“I’ve told her over and over she doesn’t need to cook for the guys, but her mama did it, so she insists on doing it too,” Hal sighs.

“Hal, I’m gonna be honest, I’m planning on taking Bonnie back to mine again tonight, so if whipping up a batch of cookies means she comes guilt free, then I’ll make fucking cookies. Hell, I’ll pay to have treats delivered every day of the god damn week,” I snarl.

“Flour’s in the pantry, I’ll grab the chocolate chips,” Hal says, nodding at me approvingly as he pushes up from his chair and reaches down a huge yellow ceramic mixing bowl from a shelf.

Making cookies for a load of ranch hands with my girl’s dad is by far the most surreal experience of my life. I don’t remember the last time I baked, probably with my mama when I was a kid. The fact that I’d do this every day if it means having Bonnie in my bed every night, is a startling realization that makes my heart beat a little quicker.

The potatoes are almost done by the time Bonnie walks back into the kitchen, wearing tight black yoga pants and a sweater that’s falling off one shoulder. Her feet are bare and her hair is wet, it’s by far the most casual I’ve ever seen her look and my dick twitches in approval. Normally I don’t look at what a woman’s wearing unless she’s practically naked, but with my girl I can’t stop looking. Dressed like this, so relaxed and comfy, I just want to pull her into my arms and hold her. I also want to strip her naked and fuck her, but I want to snuggle with her afterwards as well.

Sliding the tray of cookies into the oven, I pull the potatoes and corn from the stove and drain them. Adding milk, butter, and some salt to the potatoes I mash them while Bonnie tosses the corn in some butter and pulls three plates from the cupboard.

Being with her is so new, but it already feels right, comfortable. She isn’t high maintenance or difficult, being normal and domestic with her feels good, because this is the life I want—her, morning, noon and night. I want to eat and sleep and just be with her for the small insignificant things as well as the big dramatic moments.

I add mash to each of our plates, while she piles ribs on top and places some corn on the side. Passing her, I curl my arm around her and pull her lips to mine, kissing her quickly as I grab us each a beer, then slide Hal’s plate to him before I sink down into the chair next to hers.

“Did you pack a bag?” I ask.

“I can’t—” she starts to say.

“Beau and I made cookies for the guys, although I’ve told you they can fend for themselves, and he invited me to join you for dinner tomorrow,” Hal says, looking pointedly at Bonnie over the rib he has in his fingers.

“Daddy,” she starts then pauses.

“Honey, you’re twenty-one years old, at your age, your mama was married to me and we had Caleb. I might be an old man, but I’m not senile,” he laughs.

Bonnie’s cheeks turn red and I stifle a chuckle. “Pack stuff for tonight and some extras to leave at my place,” I tell her.

“Why?” she asks, her brow wrinkled in confusion.

“Because I don’t want you to live out of a bag when you stay at mine. Granger’s building you a dresser to match mine and I’ll make room in the closet for you,” I tell her.

“Why?” she asks again, the furrow in her brow so deep now I could slot a pencil in it.

“Isn’t it obvious,” I smirk.

She frowns at me for a moment, then returns her attention back to her food. Getting up I pull the cookies from the oven when the timer goes off, then quickly finish my meal with my arm draped across the back of her chair.

Hal waves us both off when we offer to tidy up. “You cooked, I clean,” he says, wrapping up the leftover ribs.

“I’ll help you pack,” I whisper against her neck, enjoying her slight shudder in reaction to my closeness. Taking her hand, I lead her out of the kitchen, towing her in front of me when we reach the stairs so I can follow her to her bedroom.

The room isn’t how I imagined it would be, the walls are pink, and honestly, it’s a bit of a mess; piles of clutter dotted here and there with clothes thrown into a pile in the corner. It looks like the room of a teenager, and for the first time I’m aware of just how young she is. I’m in my forties and she’s twenty-one, practically a baby in terms of life experience. A voice in the back of my head tells me that I’m too old for her, but I flip it the metaphorical middle finger and instead turn my gaze to look at her.

She’s beautiful and all mine, I won’t give her up now, even if I should. Lowering myself to her bed I sit and watch as she pulls out a backpack from her closet and starts to add clothes to it.

“You’ll need a bigger bag than that,” I tell her.

“I don’t know why I need to bring extra stuff, I’m only staying for one night, which I’m not sure I actually agreed to anyway,” she rambles.

“Every night,” I tell her.

“Every night? What the hell does that even mean?”

“I want you at mine, in my bed every night, and that’d be easier if you had clothes there.”

“I’m not moving in with you,” she shrieks.

“Why not?” I ask simply.

“Because we’ve only been dating for like a day, we haven’t even been on a proper date yet,” she yells.

“And why is that?” I snap. “It’s because last night when we should have been out on our first date you were having dinner with someone else.”

Her eyes turn solemn and she lowers her gaze like a chastised child. “This is all moving too quick. Maybe we should just take a little time—”

“No,” I growl. Reaching for her, I yank her to me, spinning us when she’s in my arms, and lowering her to her bed, pinning her down with my body. “No thinking.” I kiss her. “No time.” I kiss her again. “Just us,” I tell her, lifting her arms and encouraging them to wrap around my neck as I devour her mouth, persuading her with my lips and tongue to be in the moment with me.

I expect her to take a second to react, but instead she lifts her head and kisses me back, curling one of her legs over mine. My dick jumps to attention, eager to be closer to her pussy now she’s pressing it against me.

“You can’t just kiss me senseless every time I disagree with you,” she says a little breathlessly against my mouth.

“Why not? I like kissing you much more than I like arguing with you.” I smile.

Her sigh is loud, and a mix of weary and amused. “Beau, why now? If what you said about wanting me for a year is true, why have you finally decided to relentlessly pursue me now?”

“I’m forty-three, baby girl, you only just turned twenty-one a few months ago,” I tell her, pressing a soft kiss to the side of her mouth, hoping to distract her.

“I can’t change my age,” she shrugs.

“I know,” I admit, sighing. “I think subconsciously I was just waiting for you to at least be able to legally drink,” I wince, hating how that sounds, but feeling how truthful it is.

“If you think I’m too young, then why are you here?” she snaps, her soft hold on my neck changing as I feel her tense beneath me.

“When I saw that guy flirting with you, I just knew I couldn’t wait anymore. I couldn’t risk losing you to someone else when I’ve always known you were meant to be mine,” I confess.