BUCKED:The Mountain Man’s Babies(19)

“He found a wife? What does that mean exactly?” she asks.

I run my hand over my chin. “Sounds crazy right? But there was a massive blizzard that rolled in, this girl, Harper, her car got stuck. She managed to hike to his cabin, and it was nothing but love at first sight. Back then I called bullshit.” I shake my head, looking at Rosie. “But dammit, I was wrong.”

Rosie’s eyes are wide, listening to me tell their story. “It wasn’t bullshit? Two years later, they’re still happy?”

I rest my elbows on the counter. “Listen, I know it might sound too good to be true, but sometimes in life, it’s just the god honest answer you’ve been looking for. Sometimes you get the girl. The ring. The house. The babies. Hell, I’ll build you a white picket fence. Is this crazy? Yes. But is this real? I think so.”

Rosie’s shaking her head, and I don’t understand why she’s resisting this when we both know this feels so right.

“What is it, Rosie? What are you fighting?”

She takes a deep breath, then answers, “Buck, I hear what you’re saying ... and I do want this life. It does feel like a fairytale, but there is something you need to know ... before you can commit to me.





14





Just as I’m about to tell him that I’m pregnant with twins, the doorbell rings. Instantly, my heart lurches, panicked.

My uncle found me.

This is it.

I had one last hurrah with the man who wanted me for more than my body – who wanted me for everything, only to have it ripped away before I could even accept it in my heart.

Buck’s eyes narrow, he must be thinking the same thing.

“If he’s back for me, Buck ... I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Buck’s eyes are wild, his easygoing nature instantly transformed.

“Happen to me?” He rests his hands on my shoulders, the doorbell rings again. “Are you fucking crazy, woman? You and that baby are the only goddamn thing that matters. I won’t let anyone touch you. Ever. Understood?” He growls, driving his point home, and tears fill my eyes at the intensity that came out of nowhere.

I wipe my eyes, stunned.

“No, Rosie. You don’t get to act shocked. It just seems to me like you don’t understand what I mean when I say you are my woman. I’ll fight for you. Now and forever.”

The doorbell rings a third time, and Buck’s gaze is heavy on me.

“Do you understand, Rosie?”

I nod, because I have never in my life had a man stand up for me. A man fight for me. Vow to be there for me.

The fact that these babies have a man like this for a father? It floors me.

“Besides,” Buck stay, kissing the top of my head. “No way in hell is that your uncle.”

“No?”

“Hell no. You think some gangster is going to ring my fucking doorbell?”

I bite back a sob, which turns to a laugh, comforted by the fact he doesn’t think I should be scared. “Go get dressed, and take a moment to breathe. I forgot Jax and Harper were coming by this morning to pick up the custom piece they commissioned last month.”

The doorbell rings a fourth time and now there is yelling.

“You lazy sack of shit,” the guys yells. “I see your truck here, your lights are on. Stop jacking off to your long lost Rosie and come open the fucking door before my babies freeze to death out here.”

My eyes go wide. Babies?

Didn’t Buck just stay this guy and his woman had been together a few years?

As I slip in the bedroom, I cover my mouth, even more shocked at the fact that guy Jaxon was hollering about Buck getting off to me.

Did he really think of me enough to tell his friends about me?

Maybe Buck is entirely right.

Maybe it isn’t a mistake.

Maybe it is destiny.

Our destiny.

I hear them come inside, a baby squawking, too. I slip on my panties, my leggings, my bra. Pull on my sweater, and walk to the en suite bathroom, running my fingers through my messy hair.

My babies are moving, kicking my bladder and I sit on the toilet, needing to pee. As I stand, I realize I must have passed something, I peer into the toilet and realize it was the mucus plug, which I remember reading about in a pregnancy book.

I shake my head, not wanting to believe that the delivery could be happening anytime soon.

I need more time. Besides, my water would need to break for the babies to come. I haven’t had any contractions, Braxton or otherwise. I’m fine.

I wash my hands, run my hand over my belly, looking at myself in the mirror, telling myself that every thing is going to be okay.

Buck’s bathroom is tidy, clean. His entire house feels like a home. Better than some Russian asshole I could have married. And much better than whatever scraps I’d be given after my daughters were ripped from my arms.