Mountain Man Cake: The Mountain Men of Linesworth, #2

By Frankie Love

Charlie's known around his mountain town for his hook-ups and one-night stands, but local-bakery owner, Maggie, wishes she had the recipe to keep this man cake all to herself.

Maggie knows it's time to tell her brother's best-friend that she wants to lick his bowl of batter clean.
And even though she's kept her cupcake all this time, she's ready to share her frosting.
For one hot night, Charlie takes a bite, and find out Maggie's the sweetest thing he's ever tasted.

But things aren't always so perfectly baked—and when Maggie finds out there's a bun in her oven she realizes she may have bitten off more than she can chew.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Frankie Love
• Release date: Oct 17, 2017
• ISBN: 9798201894184

Frankie Love

Frankie Love writes filthy-sweet stories about bad boys and mountain men. As a thirty-something mom who is ridiculously in love with her own bearded hottie, she believes in love-at-first-sight and happily-ever-afters. She also believes in the power of a quickie. Get ready to fall in love … you deserve it! **Frankie also writes under the name Charlie Hart!

Book preview

Chapter 1

Charlie

Oktoberfest in a Bavarian-themed village is always a little crazy. This year it’s no different. We’ve been bar hopping all night, celebrating the end of the week’s festivities and while we live in a small town where everybody knows everybody’s business, we also live in a tourist destination.

Which means for a man like me, who takes home a different woman each night, this time of year is fucking paradise. The streets are full, the bars are hopping, and the booze is flowing. Steins of beer are in everyone’s hand as the town indulges in sauerkraut and hot pretzels.

I’d make a crack about my bratwurst, but I try to avoid being cheesy as fuck. I’ll leave that to Clive. He makes plenty of innuendos about his wife, Hazel who owns the candy shop. He’s got the corner on those jokes--everything is sugary sweet with those two.

Me? I don’t play the same game as my buddy. Getting all head over heels; love at first sight; the happily ever after bullshit--it’s not gonna happen to me.

Another round? Clive asks clapping his hand on my back. We’re in the pavilion in the heart of town, and there’s dancing, music, and plenty of booze.

Sounds good. I smile over at Hazel, his newly minted wife, and ask what she’s drinking.

Seltzer. Come on Charlie, get with the program, she says, teasing me as Clive heads to the crowded bar for our drinks.

Sorry, I forgot. I raise my hands in defense. You feeling okay these days?

I’m doing better. Made myself some ginger candies to help with the nausea.

She and Clive have been married for a few months and she’s already knocked up. I don’t know what kind of magic that woman possesses, but she’s got something powerful. After all, she whipped Clive, a burly ass mountain man, into shape and has him wrapped around her pretty little finger.

And I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t cute as hell. I may not want that insta-love story for myself, but I don’t begrudge it my oldest friend.

Hell, there have been plenty of rough patches over the years. Losing our best friend — Clive’s brother-in-law -- a few years back, really fucked us up.

I haven’t exactly recovered. And for a long time neither had Clive. Luke died and just like with everything, we dealt with it like the opposites we are. I dealt with it by sowing my wild oats and Clive shut himself off to all women. Until Hazel, of course. And now that Clive has his woman and a baby on the way, he’s found a way to move on. Process the shit that held him back. Which makes me wonder a little about myself. Back when Clive decided to commit to Hazel, he made it pretty clear he thought it was high time I changed my wild ways.

It’s taken Clive forever, I say, craning my neck, needing a drink, realizing I’ve gotten way too heavy up in my head. Even if it is the final night of Oktoberfest.

Thankfully, just then, a group of college women comes in wearing short ass men’s lederhosen and revealing tanks. Perfect.

I raise my eyebrows and Hazel follows my gaze.

Seriously, Charlie? She crosses her arms and rolls her eyes. She’s got this mom-mode thing down pat and she’s only eight weeks into motherhood. It’s so cliché.

What? That they’re hot? Willing? Ready? I laugh, but Hazel doesn’t join in.

I mean, aren’t you ready to stop being the local man cake and start being...

What?

I don’t know, Hazel says her voice loud over the noisy crowd. But don’t you just get bored taking home a different girl every night? Don’t you ever want more?

Clive comes back with the drinks and hands me a beer. It’s a dark amber, and I take a pull to avoid Hazel’s uptight questions.

Running a hand over my beard I cock a brow at Clive. You gotta rein your woman in, she’s giving me shit.

Clive reaches around Hazel’s waist, pulling her to him. They look at one another and it’s so damn sweet that it makes my teeth hurt.

Good, Clive says, squeezing Hazel’s ass. She can give you all the shit she wants.

I laugh. So, you’re just gonna let her ride my ass?

Just then Clive’s sisters Maggie and Greta roll up to us carrying shots in both hands.

Someone says they need a ride? Maggie asks, always wanting the 411.

Nobody’s going anywhere, Clive says laughing.

Maggie shrugs, giving everyone warm smiles--always the life of the party. Beer? She hands one to her brother, and Greta gives one to me, Hazel has her sparkling water. We raise our steins, shouting, ‘Cheers’ before throwing them back.

Damn, I say, finishing my beer and setting it down on the high table beside us. I haven’t seen you drink shots since high school, Greta. Back in the day, all of us felt invincible. Greta and Luke seemed like they had life all figured out--young and in love. And then he died, and everything changed.

She shrugs and then adjusts her little black dress. I’m getting drunk tonight. I’m bored. And lonely. And have a babysitter.

I look over at Clive, brows raised. Uptight, perpetually tired Greta getting wasted? This I gotta see.

Maggie elbows her sister. You’re not supposed to lead with that. If you want to get laid tonight the last thing you’re supposed to do is tell everyone.

Not true, I say. It usually works for me.

Greta laughs but Maggie scowls.

And since when did you become the expert on hook-ups, Mags? I tease. I don’t think I’ve seen you out with a guy since you moved back after college.

She frowns, picking up her stein and muttering under her breath, Not by choice.

I look at