Healing Her Mountain Man: Bear's Tooth Mountain Men, #2

By Cameron Hart

What was I thinking, coming back to this dinky mountain town? The only person I know and even remotely like is my old best friend, Gunnar. So, when my leg got messed up, he was my only option. 

 

I don't know how to be a friend anymore. I don't even know how to be human. I don't deserve his friendship, or his sister's. Brooklyn. I had almost forgotten about her, though now that we're sleeping under the same roof, she's never far from my mind. 

 

She challenges me and takes care of me even when I push her away. And then there's that sassy mouth of hers and those sparkling blue eyes. Her curves… God, those curves. I'm a grumpy bastard, damaged both inside and out. She's light and life, though I see a pain hidden deep inside her. One that calls to me. 

 

Brooklyn won't give up on me, and honestly, I don't want her to. But there's no way this will end well…

 

What to expect from a Cameron Hart book: Curvy heroines, protective alphas, lots of heat, and plenty of sweet. No cheating, safe, guaranteed HEA!

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cameron Hart
• Release date: Nov 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223471196

Cameron Hart

Hello. I'm Cameron Hart, and I write sweet steamy romances. I’m a USA Today Bestselling author with over forty books available. I write romance with lots of heat, plenty of sweet, and just enough drama to keep things interesting. I graduated from the Iowa Writer’s Workshop in 2012 with a degree in creative writing. When I’m not working on my next book, I can be found reading, crocheting, doing yoga, and chasing around my grumpy cats. **What to expect from a Cameron Hart book: Lots of heat, plenty of sweet, and just enough drama to keep things interesting. No cheating, safe, guaranteed HEA!**

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One look at the stunning waitress carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders, and I’m a goner. I wasn’t looking for a sweet little thing with auburn hair and more baggage than I can fit on the back of my bike, but there’s no going back now. She’s mine. I’ll prove to her I’m more than capable of handling her past and making her feel safe again.

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Chapter 1

Brooklyn

Hey, Brookie, you got any chocolate chip muffins left?

"Gunnar, you know I hate being called Brookie," I roll my eyes at my older brother.

Brookie, you know when you say that, you’re only encouraging me to keep at it, he smirks.

I roll my eyes again but then smile. It's good to see him like this. I'm thankful for every good day we have. Our parents died when I was fifteen and Gunnar was twenty-one. He got custody of me and put his life on hold to raise me. The stress, grief, and a few bad influences lead my brother down a dangerous path. One that almost took him from me.

You’re in luck, I say, getting my head out of the past and into the present so I can enjoy this time with him. I saved a chocolate chip muffin just for you. I had a feeling you’d be coming in.

Brookie, you’re the best. Gunnar looks at me with such sincerity in his eyes, and I know he’s talking about more than just the muffin.

When did you get so sentimental on me? I tease.

He shrugs and then grins at me, all seriousness wiped from his face.

I have some news, Gunnar starts. I quirk up an eyebrow. Ryker is back.

Those three words have my heart pounding out of my chest.

Ryker.

Brother’s best friend. My first crush. My only crush, if I'm being honest. I was just twelve when he left for the army. He and Gunnar were close for a few years, but then they drifted apart, as friends tend to do when they are far apart for so long. He used to call me flutterby, after I informed everyone at dinner one night when I was six that I wanted to be a colorful flutterby princess when I grew up. Gunnar made fun of me and told me it was pronounced butterfly. Ryker said he liked my version better. I did too.

The last time I saw him, he came back for my parents’ funeral. Even through my grief at the sudden, unexpected loss of my parents, I noticed him. Everything about him. He was the same man I remembered three years prior, but stronger. Muscled. A little warier of the world around him.

I remember he gave me a brief hug that day. My skin burned everywhere he touched me. His simple gesture stilled the storm of conflicting emotions inside me for a brief moment.

And just like that, he was gone. It’s been five long years since I’ve seen him. Which makes it all the more ridiculous how much I still think about him. Would he be impressed that I run the only coffee shop in our small mountain town of Bear’s Tooth? Would he get along with my three cats? Would he like the cheddar, bacon, and chives quiche I made this morning?

As if it weren’t bad enough that I seem to want his approval for everything I do, my thoughts often take a different turn. Would Ryker even look twice at me? Does he like his women skinny? Submissive? Experienced? If so, I’m pretty much the opposite.

I'm a big girl, but I'm proud of my body. My mom always told me how beautiful I was and how I should never hide my classic hourglass figure. When I grew breasts practically overnight, accompanied by wide hips, she took me on a shopping spree to help me find clothes I felt confident in.

Aside from my curves, I inherited my mom’s larger than life attitude and style. To say I’m eccentric would be putting it lightly. I had to fend for myself for a long time, which also means I’m not big into people controlling me or telling me what to do. And let’s not get started on my experience. Making out is pretty much as far as I’ve gone with any guy. There’s some ridiculous part of me that feels like if I can’t be with Ryker, I don’t want to be with anyone.

So, is that okay? Brooklyn?

I snap out of it, realizing Gunnar had been talking to me.

Um, sorry, what?

I said Ryker is going to be staying with us for a bit. He got hurt and needs a place to recover.

Oh my God, what happened? My stomach is in knots thinking about all the danger he faced while deployed overseas and what could have happened to him

He’s okay. I guess he fucked up his leg. Some shrapnel or something from an IED. He’s coming back for physical therapy and needs a place to crash and regroup.

Yeah, yeah of course he can stay with us.

Gunnar looks relieved. As if I’d ever say no to having the sexiest man alive staying under the same roof as me.

But my cats stay. That's non-negotiable, I add with a mock death glare.

Believe me, I know better than to fight with you about those little rodents.

Hey! They are adorable little floofy bundles of pure joy!

They poop in a box.

Well, you poop in a big porcelain bowl, I counter.

Sure, but no one has to clean up after... You know what? Never mind, he chuckles. I’ve come to terms with the hairballs in our house.

Good.

Gunnar takes his muffin and a cup of coffee and heads out the door to his job at the one and only auto shop in town. He got the job right after our parents died, and they were good to him while he fought through his shit.

I busy myself with cleaning up the shop during the mid-morning lull. Café Diem was my mom's dream. She and I would come into this little coffee shop when I was a girl. The owner at the time, Rita, was in her late sixties and looking to retire soon. We always joked about buying the place from her and redecorating, changing up the menu, and bringing in coffee from locally sourced vendors.

Mom got serious about buying the shop from Rita, and the two were working out the details when the accident happened. It was winter and we lived up in the mountains. You can guess the rest. The car slipped off the road and tumbled down the mountain. They died on impact.

A few months after the funeral, Rita hired me as a barista. When I turned eighteen, she asked if I wanted to take over for her. It was on a trial basis at first. I was the manager and she was more like a silent partner. The business started taking off after I introduced baked goods and a few menu items, so Rita was confident I was ready take over completely. I was able to buy the place from the money I got in my parents' will.

I finish wiping down the bakery case and head over to the espresso machine to clean off the steam wands. Just then, my best friend, Adelyn, walks in with Sammie, her six-week-old daughter. Kade isn't far behind. I'm still not used to seeing the reclusive mountain man around town, let alone following the sweet little drop of sunshine that is Adelyn. He watches over her like a guard dog. It's pretty endearing.

Brooklyn! She squeals.

Adelyn! Sammie! How are my two favorite customers? Oh, um, you too, Kade.

He grins, which is odd coming from him, but I’m slowly getting used to it.

We’re so good. And tired.

Sammie is hitting a growth spurt, which means she’s getting less sleep since her cycle is all off, Kade says in his booming voice.

I can't help but smile at the gruff, muscled, tattooed man talking about the sleep cycles of a baby.

Well, what can I get for you? Cake? Scones? Oh! I have some new white chocolate cranberry cookies!

Ohmygosh. Yes. I’ll take two, Adelyn says.

Kade clears his throat.

Adelyn smiles up at her husband. Three. And a coffee for Kade. I’m nursing, so no caffeine for me.

Herbal tea?

Yes. Perfect.

Kade steps up to pay, but I refuse to let him.

You know I won’t accept your money here, Kade.

He grumbles and shoves a ridiculously large tip in the tip jar before going over to the table and doting on his girls.

I love Adelyn and her little family. But sometimes I get a pang of jealousy. If I’m not able to get over this thing with Ryker - this totally one-sided, inappropriate, and absolute fantasy thing, then I’ll never have that.

Maybe having Ryker stay with us isn’t such a good idea after all. How am I supposed to get over the only man I’ve ever loved while we’re in such close quarters?

Chapter 2

Ryker

What the fuck was I thinking coming back to this dinky mountain town? There’s nothing left for me here. The sad thing is, there’s nothing left for me anywhere. The only person I knew and even remotely liked was my old best friend, Gunnar. So, when my leg got fucked up, he was pretty much my only option. The doc said he wouldn’t let me leave until he knew I was staying with someone who could get me to my physical therapy appointments.

Though, looking over at Gunnar while he drives us back to his house, I’m not so sure I know how to do this anymore. How to be a friend, that is. Shit, I don’t even know how to be human.

I grew up here with my uncle. He was a mean son of a bitch, and I got out of here as soon as I could. I heard the old bastard died a few years back. Good riddance.

Gunnar is currently rambling on about his little sister, though I’m not really paying attention. I remember her – cute kid, kind of annoying. When’s the last time I saw her? She was probably only eleven or twelve when I left.

But wait, no, another memory surfaces. I was at their parents' funeral. That one hit me hard. Greg and Molly were the parents I never had. I ate more meals with them than I did my uncle.

I remember seeing Brooklyn at the back of the chapel, the absolute picture of grief. I felt compelled to give her a hug, which is not something I do. Ever. But she