MAKER (The Men of Whiskey Mountain Book 4): The Men of Whiskey Mountain, #4

By Frankie Love

I'm not the kind of man an innocent girl should fall for.
But Marley Grove says she knows what she wants. And she wants me.
She says she can handle a mountain man, after all, this freckled face slice of sunshine grew up in Alaska.
But I'm more than a feral mountain man.
I'm an ex-drug lord, reformed con-man, an exonerated criminal.
Her brothers are the River Boys and they want me off Whiskey Mountain.
I want to turn a new leaf, but not if it means giving up what I want.
I love Marley more than life itself. But is that enough when the world is dead set against it?
It's high time we find out. 
Because I'm not going down without a fight. I'll be here, on Whiskey Mountain, defending what -- and who-- is mine. With guns blazing.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Frankie Love
• Release date: Oct 4, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201767068

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

Maker

Icame to this wedding for one reason: I'm trying to be a better man.

Now, before you go thinking I've turned into some softy, listen to me closely. I know if I want to be a good man, I have a hell of a lot of cleaning up to do. I'm ashamed of a lot of things I've done and I'm not proud of the way I've treated those closest to me. But I don't regret all of it. How could I? It's brought me here today to watch Beam and Bellamy get hitched. A woman I damn near destroyed and a man who was my partner in crime for far too long.

Beam was by my side when nobody else was. And so standing here by his side today, it's the least I can do. But still, as I stand in this suit and tie, tight around the collar, I can't help but wonder if I will ever put my demons to rest. Being here at this beautiful wedding on this island Beam has somehow managed to procure for himself, I figure if there's hope for him, there might be hope for me.

And hell, looking around, I see my brother Walker with his bride Wavy, and next to them are Jameson and Jemma. Hell, Jemma has been through the goddamn ringer, and most of it was because of me. She hates me, with reason.

It's hard to stand here, to look at everybody in the eye, knowing what I've done to make their lives living hells. They forgave me, but I'm sure as fuck clear on one thing — I don't deserve their forgiveness.

Since moving up here to Whiskey Mountain, the people I used to know in California have cleaned up their acts. They've gotten their lives together. Married, kids, cabins. It's an Alaskan mountain man's version of a white picket fence. It's paradise, but I'm not a fool. Not everyone can be so lucky as to get a second, a third, a fourth chance. Hell, I've stopped counting because I've had more than my share.

Why are you standing here empty-handed? My brother Walker asks, coming over to me and handing me a glass of whiskey.

I nod, jutting out my chin. Thanks, bro.

He clinks his glass to mine and we raise them before taking drinks. The rich amber liquid slides down my throat and I calm down instantly.

I've been a little agitated since getting here. It's all too perfect. I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop because doesn't it always?

You having a good time? Walker asks. I chuckle, running a hand over my beard.

God, I don't know. It's good to see Beam happy, and hell, Bellamy too.

Walker nods. It's a proper wedding, white dress, pastor leading them through their vows. I don't think I ever thought I'd see a day like this. Did you?

I know what he means. Beam is a burly ass man. My bodyguard for years, but maybe he's a softy at heart.

I’m happy for him, I say, Bellamy too. They look so happy, don't they?

Standing side by side, we scan the guests. Someone is playing guitar. A woman is singing a song. A dance floor has been set up and Beam and Bellamy are gliding around it. Like we're in a goddamn romantic comedy.

How's Wavy doing these days? I ask. The babies keeping her busy?

Walker nods. Yeah, she's already talking about getting pregnant again.

I laugh. Damn. You sure are settled.

What about you, bro? Do you ever think about settling down yourself?

I laugh. What do you think? What kind of girl would want to be with a man like me?

I see Walker thinking, trying to come up with a woman who would be a good fit for a man like me. It's a tall order. I clap my brother's back.

Hey, I'm not offended. I know it's the truth. I'm not exactly the kind of man any girl wants to bring home to their papa.

Still, my brother shrugs. You never know. Anyone here catch your eye?

I swallow, looking around the room. Happy people, most all of them coupled up, but there's one woman who keeps looking at me. One woman who should look away.

Who is she? Walker asks, pointing to her.

I shake my head. I don't know. But that girl looks like she's never seen a bad day in her whole damn life.

Which means? my brother presses.

Which means she should stay clear of me.

Well, she came with her brothers, but they are leaving tonight. They got in a big fight a little while ago. Apparently they wanted her to go home with them, but she wants to stay for the wedding breakfast tomorrow.

I frown. Sounds intense.

They got a tight rein on her, from what I hear.

Wavy walks over, dragging her husband to the dance floor. As more people join in dancing to the upbeat song, I chuckle, watching my brother, thinking I never imagined something like that. Hell, I never imagined being here with him at all. We've had our differences, that's for sure. But time heals most wounds and ours have cleaned up nicely. The wounds I'm facing now are within me. I've made right most of my wrongs with the people of this world. It's just my own demons that can't seem to let go.

Excuse me? A sweet voice, a tap on my shoulder.

I turn. It’s the woman I’ve been drawn to. The sweet one, the one who's much too good for me. You can tell it by her corn-yellow hair, her bright blue eyes, her freckled face. She's petite and curvy and cute as a button. The opposite of me in every possible way.

Hey, she says again, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. It's long, to her waist and all soft curls done up for the day. I’m Marley Grove, she says. I’ve been waiting all day for someone to introduce us, but the party's going to end soon and no one has. So I thought I would come and introduce myself.

I'm Maker, I say, offering her my hand, wishing I was the kind of man who could give her more.

Our hands touch a beat too long before I pull mine back and run it over my beard, telling myself to get a grip, to walk away.

Before I can, she speaks again, persistent.

I was wondering if maybe you'd like to dance? she asks.

Dance? I repeat.

She nods. Hope in her eyes. I can practically see it pounding in her heart. I’m not very good at dancing, she says.

I set my glass on a table and take her hand. Well, lucky for you, Marley Grove, I am.

Marley

Ihave no idea what has come over me. Okay, I have an idea, a tiny little inkling. It may have to do with the epic fight I just had with my brothers, Jett, Gavin, and Dylan. They came here tonight as my chaperones but they wanted to leave, to get home before midnight, and considering it’s a three-hour boat ride back to Riverside, they wanted to leave now.

Just as the reception was getting fun.

I refused, and they got mad, and Beam told them to leave.

So, it was a tad bit dramatic. Which is why I promptly had a shot of vodka. And the three glasses of champagne that followed.

I bite my bottom lip, not remembering how many drinks I had, as Maker takes my hand and guides me toward the dance floor. Walking over to him and introducing myself is so out of character, it's crazy. Not that I'm not outgoing or good at meeting new people. I am. I'm a Riverside girl through and through, and working at the bar and grill has taught me to get to know everyone who comes in, which is how I got to know Beam and Bellamy in the first place, and why I'm at their wedding tonight.

But my personality has nothing to do with why introducing myself to Maker is so out of the ordinary for me. What's out of character is taking a chance on that butterfly feeling deep inside my belly, the feeling I had the moment I locked eyes with him. I remember seeing him before, passing through the bar and grill, but he never stayed long enough to pay any attention to me. But God, I paid attention to him. And now that he's here holding my hand, I’m not going to waste this opportunity.

Where'd you learn to dance? I ask as he wraps an arm around my waist, his big, firm palm on my back, his other hand holding mine. My entire body feels like it’s holding its breath.

The music slows, and we move as if we know what we are doing. I surely don't. Heck, I was born and raised in Alaska. I didn't have much time to learn the waltz. I was mostly focused on fishing, and not getting my foot caught in a bear trap. But Maker knows how to move, which is why I have that flip-flop feeling happening now. Again. Constantly.

God, this man is handsome, dark and dangerous. And yes, I've seen plenty of bearded hotties over the years, but none quite as sexy as this one.

I've been warned. Beam, and Wavy, and their friend Jemma, were adamant. Do not go talk to Maker. He’s been in trouble with the law … and worse. He used to run a freaking drug cartel. Advice which, playing into this innocent naivety that I am so damn good at, I promptly ignored. I didn't want to be told what