Runaway Montana Groom: Bear Grass Springs Book 12 by Ramona Flightner

Author:Ramona Flightner
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781945609510
Publisher: Grizzly Damsel Publishing

Standing in the meadow, Peter listened for her footsteps. He knew it was rash to return here every evening after work, but he yearned for another magical interlude with her. Where the outside world and all their worries faded away, and they could simply be Peter and Philomena. When she would laugh with abandon and would forgot to guard her reactions. When he caught her staring at him, with the same longing he felt.

He let out a shaky breath, as he ran a hand through his hair. Speaking with his grandmother had eased his doubts in unfathomable ways. His description of his mother and of his mother’s coldness to him was in stark contrast to everything he knew about Philomena. With utter certainty he knew Philomena wasn’t like his mother. Philomena was cautious, loyal, kind, and generous. She was everything his soul called out for.

With an aggrieved sigh, he paced in the meadow. It had been a week since he had danced with her here. Since he had held her in his arms and had laughed and had known, deep in his marrow, that Philomena would never intentionally hurt him. Would never act like his mother.

When he heard footsteps, he turned and was unable to fight his delighted smile at the sight of her. “You came,” he breathed.

She shrugged, a luminous smile bursting forth at his delight in seeing her. “I wasn’t sure you would be here.” With hesitant steps, she approached him. Her gaze glowed with an incandescent joy. “I feared I was the only one afflicted with the need to see you again.” She ducked her head and flushed at the admission.

“No,” he said, his voice as warm as melted chocolate and just as soothing. “I’ve been here almost every evening since we danced. I worried you’d never return.”

“Every night?” Philomena whispered in wonder. Her hesitation disappeared, and she approached him, nearly tripping now in her haste to be in his arms.

“Shh, darling, there’s no rush. We’re together again.”

“Yes, but for how long? Do we wait each week for Morris to work on his sermon, so I can sneak out?” she asked, her blush brightening at her boldness.

Peter had stilled at her words, his breath catching. With cautious hope, he whispered, “You want more too?”

At her subtle nod, he pulled her close, crushing her in his arms. When he felt a quiver go through her, he murmured, “All is well. There’s nothing to fear.”

“Of course there is,” she whispered. “I’ll be branded a … a loose woman, if I’m found with you.”

“No,” he said, cupping her cheeks. “Every woman has the right to spend a little time with her fiancé.” His triumphant exuberance faded when she stiffened, although his hold on her never wavered. “I promise I won’t abandon you this time. On everything I hold dear.”

“There may be reasons you are unaware of that would make you unwilling to marry me,” she whispered. When he held two fingers under her chin, so she had to meet his gaze, she closed her eyes, unwilling to look into his penetrating gaze.

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