Shared by Her Mountain Men: Bear's Tooth Mountain Men, #4

By Cameron Hart

In a rash decision to get away from the dumpster fire of a situation I found myself in, I drive up a mountain to a remote cabin for a little retreat to regroup after everything. Great idea, right? 

 

I get caught in a blizzard and my ancient car breaks down. Because of course it does. I stupidly decided to try and walk down the mountain, only to fall and hit my head. The last thing I think is that dying in a blizzard might be the only noteworthy thing to happen in my pathetic life.

 

When I wake up, I'm warm and toasty and being taken care of by not one, but two gorgeous mountain men. Grant is beautiful and brutal, devastating and rough and feral, but surprisingly gentle with me when I need it. Sawyer is sweet and sexy, charming and loving and strong, but he can be fierce when he needs to be. 

 

They are perfect. Each one. I couldn't choose if my life depended on it. What's a girl to do? I couldn't possibly have both of them, right?

 

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

***

Keywords: Mountain man, MFM, why choose romance, protective alphas, grumpy/sunshine, damsel in distress

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cameron Hart
• Release date: Nov 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223249894

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

Quinn

Just a little farther. Hopefully, I mutter to myself as my ancient Honda Accord huffs and puffs up this mountain.

I'm not a hundred percent sure where exactly I'm headed, but the lady I talked to over the phone said once I passed the huge boulder that looks like Sean Connery, the cabin would be just a half-mile away, on the right-hand side of the road. I can't imagine why I'm a little lost with crystal clear directions like that.

But I’m desperate for an escape after the dumpster fire that is my life. Earlier today I found my boyfriend, excuse me, ex-boyfriend, in bed with my best friend. I don’t know what hurt worse – seeing my boyfriend of a year and a half in bed with my bestie, sorry, my ex-bestie, or knowing that my only friend in the world thought so little of me as to sleep with my boyfriend. No. Ex-boyfriend.

Stop it. Stop thinking about them. Screw them. They suck. You’re better off alone.

My stupid voice cracks on that last word.

Alone.

I’ve been alone most of my life. Never knew my dad, and most of the time my momma wanted nothing to do with me. She would drop me off at my aunt’s house whenever she had a new boyfriend or a new exciting business opportunity. My aunt Tara may have saved me from a few rough spots with my mom, but she wasn’t particularly fond of me. I learned to keep my head down and stay out of the way.

All the moving around wasn’t very conducive to making friends or putting down roots, which is partially why I think I was so loyal to Chelsey when I met her freshman year of college. And when Chad showed me an ounce of attention, I lapped it right up and begged for more.

Whatever. It’s all behind me now. Literally. I left my life at the bottom of the mountain in favor of a rental cabin way up in the middle of nowhere. I googled cheap remote cabin rentals once I escaped the awful scene in my apartment. That led me to a website that hadn’t been updated since 1997, which was kind of perfect.

I was skeptical that the phone number listed wouldn’t be in service, but to my delight, an old woman answered the phone. It all happened so fast. One minute I was asking how much it would be for me to rent the cabin, and the next thing I knew, she was telling me I could have it for the whole winter if I kept it in good condition and cleaned the place up. The woman said she’d come back in the spring to check up on me. The last thing we discussed was the key hidden under the porch, and then I was off to Bear’s Tooth, Montana.

Don’t think about Chad. Don’t think about Chad. Keep it together just a little longer, girl.

I’d never seen Chad so livid.

Well, so much for not thinking about him.

Was that violent glint in his eye always there? Had I just never seen it before? Flashes of our final interaction swim around in my head, but I shove those thoughts aside. I just need to get up this dang mountain and then I can process everything.

I regret not looking up the weather forecast before driving off like a bat out of hell. It’s November, which means I should have been aware of the possibility of snow. A fact that is falling heavily on my shoulders now. Get it? Snow humor. It’s exactly the kind of joke Chad would have made me feel stupid for, which makes me giggle to myself even harder.

The wind picks up, making the snow blow around so much I can only see a few feet in front of me.

After ten minutes of white-knuckle driving, the road opens up and there's a bit of a shoulder on the right-hand side. I pull over and park the car, making sure to crank the emergency brake. Not that it would do much good if my car is on a sheet of ice and a strong gust of wind decides to push it backward, but hey. I don't have much going for me right now, so I might as well pull out all the stops. Get it? Break humor.

I find myself cracking up, despite my dire circumstances. Even though I’m stuck on the side of a mountain in a white-out blizzard with nothing but my twenty-year-old car, I feel lighter than I have in months. I’m still laughing at my stupid joke about the breaks, loving the fact that I can.

Chad hated my sense of humor. In fact, he hated a lot of things about me. I don’t think I realized until just now how much of myself I kept hidden away. I just wanted him to love me. I was so desperate for his approval, for his companionship, that I didn’t mind losing myself. That’s pretty pathetic, huh?

I guess that’s what this whole hiatus from my life is about; rediscovering who I am.

With a renewed determination to get to my destination, I look around my car for something to cover up with. My plan is to wait out the storm in my car. Like I thought, there’s no blanket. But I do have several outfits stuffed into my duffel bag. I pull out a long-sleeved shirt, a sweater, and a zip-up hoodie. One by one, I put each item of clothing on, along with the pair of gloves and a hat I managed to remember to pack.

At least I remembered to wear boots. Though, to be fair, these aren’t exactly high quality. I got them at the secondhand store last winter when Chad took Chelsey and me on a ski trip. I remember thinking it was weird he wanted to take her along with us, why he didn’t want a weekend getaway with just me. Were they were hooking up all the way back then? Was I really just too blind to see it? I had planned on giving him my virginity that weekend. Chad seemed annoyed that we'd been dating for months and I still hadn't slept with him.

He got my virginity a few weeks later, unfortunately. It was disappointing, to say the least, and he wasn't tender or caring at all. He fell asleep right after, and I ended up crying in the shower.

Why did I stay with him after that? And for so long? Why did I let him convince me to quit my job, drop out of school, and wait around for him to love me? Was I really that desperate for attention? Apparently so.

An hour later, I’m not so sure this was the right choice. Though, what else am I going to do? I can’t keep driving. Right?

Right.

But I’m freezing cold and the snow isn’t letting up. If anything, it’s getting worse. I try turning my car on, thinking maybe I’ll crank the heat just for a few minutes and then turn it back off. I just need a little heat.

I turn the key in the ignition and...nothing.

Awesome.

I feel panic overwhelm me now that the reality of my situation has sunk in. I’m going to freeze to death. I’m nothing. Nobody. No one will miss me. My life will have been completely inconsequential.

No. Stop it.

Those are old Quinn thoughts. New Quinn is going to survive this blizzard and live to tell the tale, even if it means trekking back down the mountain. Maybe the winds aren’t so bad lower down? I don’t really know much about roughing it up here in the harsh winters of Montana, but I know I can’t stay here.

Steeling myself for the harsh winter winds and snow, I open my door and am immediately pelted in the face with snow and ice. I pull my hoodie up to try and shield myself from the worst of it. The wind slams my door shut. Something about that sound propels me forward. The door shutting seems more metaphorical than anything else.

Or maybe I’m just being emotional and crazy. Either way, here I go.

I have no idea how long I’ve been walking, and to be honest, I’m not sure I’m even going in the right direction. My left foot is pretty much numb, thanks to a hole I didn’t know I had in the side of my boots. On the bright side, at least my foot doesn’t sting or throb anymore.

Oh! I shriek as I go down hard. I hit my head on something and a blinding pain sears through my brain. I see a flash of white against the back of my eyes and then everything goes black. The last thing I think is how freezing to death might be the only interesting thing to ever happen to me.

Chapter 2

Grant

The National Weather Service said the storm of the century is coming our way.

My best friend and roommate, Sawyer, and I have been up here in Bear’s Tooth, Montana for a little over five months. Moving out here was all Sawyer’s idea, and to be honest, I was so messed up at the time, I didn’t have the energy to fight him on the decision.

We grew up together, Sawyer and I, in a shit neighborhood in Los Angeles. As soon as we graduated high school, we signed up for the military. We did basic together and ended up in the same unit. Eventually, we went into special forces. Sawyer did technical work, tracking, and intel and shit like that, where I went out in the field and cracked some skulls. He was the brain, I was the muscle. That's how it's been our whole lives.

After a particularly difficult mission, we both decided to retire. Ok, that’s not completely accurate. Sawyer got hurt and was honorably discharged. I...sort of got lost in my head and was not so honorably discharged. Unstable. Anger-management issues. Unpredictable. Withdrawn. Whatever. Fuck them. Fuck everyone.

It’s exactly that kind of attitude that got me in trouble, I know. I can’t seem to help it, though. Being a civilian again didn’t suit me. Nothing suited me. I spent my days drinking and my nights having vivid nightmares. Post-Traumatic Stress, the doctor said.

My drinking got out of hand. Sawyer tried helping me, but I shut him out. Things got dark there for a while. I didn’t see much point in going on. There were times I wondered if I swallowed the whole bottle of pills along with a bottle of Jack, would I just go to sleep for good?

It was during one such an episode that I reached out to Sawyer. He came over to my shit hole of an apartment that was littered with take-out boxes and empty bottles of whiskey and gin. He found me passed out on the couch and hasn't left my side since.

Sawyer moved in the next day, cleaned up the place. Cleaned up my life. A few months ago, I got in a bit of an altercation. I was at a bar, much to Sawyer’s dismay, and some asshole laid hands on a woman.

I’d been watching him flirt unsuccessfully with some of the ladies in the bar. Namely, the ones who tried chatting me up and were turned down. He wanted to be the rebound guy, and that was fine by me. Until he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

I was on him in a flash, pulling him back from the terrified woman he had cornered against the wall. I only meant to get him away from her, give the woman a chance to run. But then he took a swing at me.

He instigated the fight, but I escalated it. Once my anger was triggered, I didn’t stop till his arm was broken and he was pouring blood from his mouth and nose. I was arrested for assault, but the charges were dropped when the woman gave her testimony, saying I saved her.

Sawyer came to my rescue once again. He said his old military buddy, Ryker, lived up in some small ass mountain town and knew of a cabin up in the mountains that was for rent. He convinced me to move up here with