Their Mountain Bride: A Mountain Menage Romance (Men of Lonely Mountain Book 3) by Kayla Wren

Author:Kayla Wren [Wren, Kayla]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Black Cherry Publishing
Published: 2021-09-09T16:00:00+00:00

10

Angelo

Beau picks Katy Poole up from her apartment, stabbing the intercom with one blunt finger then retreating to the sidewalk to peer up at the windows. I wish I could see the exact expression on his face, but my view is obscured by fluttering tree leaves and a bus stop shelter. I’m making do.

He’s dressed more smartly than I’ve ever seen him. He must have ducked into one of the town’s few clothing stores while I was playing poker with Caleb in the Mountain Rescue headquarters yesterday. I’d have noticed if he wore a shirt like that before—a deep aubergine color, and more fitted than his usual potato sacks.

It emphasizes the swell of his arms.

And his waist tapers in more than I realized.

Shit.

Katy Poole looks good too. She comes hopping down the steps like some fairy princess, and I’d hate her if she didn’t look so fucking cute. Her pale green dress hugs her curves and flutters around her knees, and her icy hair is wound up in a chignon.

Beau sways back on his heels, like he’s been struck dumb.

I know the feeling.

No. No, this is not good. I don’t want them smiling shyly at each other—don’t want her reaching out, tangling their fingers together. Even from my hiding place, the contrast between them is compelling. Her small hand held by his big, scarred one. Her blonde hair next to his black beard. Outwardly, they’re a pair of opposites, but inside…

They’re both suckers. Over-romantic saps.

Shit.

I need to fuck this up.

I won’t be pushed out. Not even by gorgeous Katy Poole, with her delicious green apple scent and her soft curves. I won’t step aside and let them live happily ever after, while I’m tossed out into the cold like some rain-soaked puppy in a cardboard box under a bridge.

No. If Beau doesn’t screw this up himself… I’ll have to help it along. The thought brings an alien twist to my gut, but I push it away.

Guilt has no use for me now. God knows I’ve done far worse before, in my old life as my father’s loyal soldier. I was proud to be a Marino; I took great pleasure in making our enemies despair. My hands are drenched in blood.

This is nothing. A little romantic meddling, nothing more.

They take a winding route to the restaurant, strolling along the sidewalk like lovers in Paris. People stop and stare, nudging each other and whispering together, but either Katy and Beau don’t notice or they don’t care.

It’s always been stupid the way the locals here are scared of Beau—unlike me, he’s gentle. There’s nothing to fear. So maybe it’s good for him to be seen this way—as a normal man on a date. Non-threatening. Desirable.

The restaurant is a green, red and white monstrosity, complete with accordion music drifting out of the open doorway. Candles flicker on the tables through the big glass windows, and the tablecloths are rustic.

I lean against a lamppost across the street, not bothering to hide. Beau and Katy are too wrapped up in each other to notice me, anyway.

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