Passion In The Mountains (Greene Mountain Boys), page 1
Passion In The Mountains
Greene Mountain Boys
Olivia T. Turner
Contents
Copyright
Passion In The Mountains
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Epilogue
Epilogue
Epilogue
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Copyright© 2023 by Olivia T. Turner.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including emailing, photocopying, printing, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author. For permission requests, email Olivia@oliviatturner.com
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This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, businesses, companies, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
www.OliviaTTurner.com
Edited by Karen Collins Editing
Passion In The Mountains
I just watched my ex-fiancé marry his gay lover.
It was supposed to be our wedding, but he asked me to be his best man instead.
I think I need a vacation.
My sister says I need to get laid.
She says I have an itch that only a mountain man can scratch.
I think she’s full of it until I head to Montana and see Dylan Wallis.
He’s bathing in a river.
My body instantly reacts.
I want him.
Badly.
I want those big broad shoulders, that massive chest, those strong tattooed arms, those tree trunk legs, and that massive piece of wood dangling between his legs.
I want all of it.
And I want it now.
When those dark heated eyes find me watching him, I can tell he wants me too.
My sister was right.
This hot mountain is about to scratch my itch.
He’s about to destroy my V-card.
And I’m going to love every second of it.
Ashley is about to take a heck of a ride with a bearded hottie. Passion will be erupting in the mountains when this lucky girl meets her hot obsessive alpha of a mountain man.
Insta-love at its finest with no cheating and a super sweet HEA guaranteed. Enjoy!
To my brother Ryan,
The best brother ever.
You let my Barbies marry your He-Man action figures.
Hmmm, must have been where my love of big strong guys started…
Prologue
Ashley
I’ve been smiling all day. I can’t do it anymore.
I’m slumped over at the head table and tipsy as hell, but not the good kind. It’s the hating-my-life-and-wanting-a-new-one-kind.
Look at them… They look so damn happy.
That should’ve been me.
“How you holding up?” my sister Megan asks as she sits in the seat next to me.
She takes my nearly empty wine glass and slides it away.
Probably a good idea.
“I’m just fucking great!” I say with a big sarcastic smile. “Life is just wonderful when you’re watching your ex-fiancé marrying someone else.”
She sighs as she looks at the blissful couple slow-dancing on the dance floor like they’re the only two people in the world.
“You know it never would have worked out, right?” Megan says.
I look at her with dead eyes. “Yeah, Megs. I think I know that. He’s a night owl and I’m a morning person. He likes Jazz and I like Rock ’n Roll. He’s gay and I don’t have a dick.”
Megan chuckles and shakes her head. “How much did you drink?”
“Not enough,” I say as I reach past her and grab my wine glass. She tries to take it from me, but I have an iron grip. The only way she’ll get it is if she pries it from my cold, dead, lonely, bitter hands.
“Don’t get too drunk,” she warns as she slides the half-finished bottle of red away. “You’re still the best man, or best woman, or whatever the fuck you want to call it.”
“Third wheel is what I call it,” I say as I stare at the two groomsmen. Justin whispers something in Richard’s ear and my ex-fiancé smiles with those beautiful blue eyes lighting up. We were high school sweethearts, Richard and I. We dated for eight years, ages fourteen to twenty-two, which is a lifetime in teenage romance years. In all that time, he never once looked at me the way he’s looking at Justin. I should have known. Maybe a small part of me did, but I didn’t want to admit it.
There were small hints like his intense fascination with the male lifeguard at the public pool, medium hints like him never wanting to go further than holding hands and cuddling, and giant hints like the time I took my top off in front of him and he made that face like he just bit into a lemon then said he had a stomachache and practically ran home.
I should have fucking known.
But he was so sweet and we loved each other in our own weird way. When Richard proposed, I immediately said yes. Why wouldn’t I? He’s smart, witty, always upbeat, always making me laugh. He truly is the perfect guy. Well, ya know, if you can ignore the whole gay thing, which I was more than happy to remain oblivious about.
We planned the wedding with the help of our handsome wedding coordinator, Justin, and the two of them hit it off big time. A few weeks later, Richard came over to my house in tears and let me in on his big gay secret.
I was shocked and devastated and maybe a little bit relieved. In the months since that happened, I’ve realized that our love was always more platonic than passionate.
I guess we’ve always been better suited as friends. I’ve always longed for a scorching hot passionate love affair. The kind that sweeps you off your feet and changes everything.
I never got that with Richard. We hardly even ever kissed. I got rom com movie nights and baking muffins with him, but never wild unbridled passion.
“Let’s go dance,” Megan says, pulling my arm. Billie Jean is playing and everyone is moving, including Justin who’s doing a perfect moonwalk. Richard looks so ecstatic as he watches him. I wish they weren’t so damn cute so I could hate them.
“I’m not going out there,” I say as I wrap my ankle around the chair leg. “I look like a waiter.”
Megan looks at my female tuxedo—yes, I was horrified to find out that’s a thing and they wanted me to wear one—and laughs.
“You laughed!” I say with a look of betrayal. “Now, I’m definitely not going.”
“Well, you can’t sit here all night and mope.”
“Yes, I can,” I say as I take another glug of wine. “I have nothing going on in my life. I don’t have a man. I’ve never experienced romantic love. I’m burnt out from my shitty job and from helping to plan this wedding that was supposed to be mine. So, yeah, Megs. I can sit here and mope all I want. Okay?”
This quarter-life crisis I’m going through fucking suuuuucccckkkkssss.
“You’re feeling sorry for yourself. It’s pathetic.”
I glare at her with glossy eyes. “My ex-fiancé and his new groom are going to be walking hand-in-hand on the beach tomorrow for their honeymoon and I’m going to be hungover watching Judge Judy reruns and ordering pad Thai for one.”
“You need to get yourself together.”
“I need to get out of town.”
Megan sighs as she stares at me. “You need to get laid.”
“Yeah,” I say as I drop my head in exasperation. “That too.”
I’m dying for it. Ever since Richard dumped me. I don’t know what it was, but when I split with that lovely gay man something woke up inside me. Some dark horny she-beast that is desperate for some action. It’s all I can think about lately.
I’m a twenty-four-year-old virgin and I’m ready to give up that title for good.
“What about the mountains?” Megan says.
“Mountains? What about them?”
“You’re always talking about wanting to move to the mountains,” she says. “You have mountain pictures all over your apartment. And you got that tattoo!”
I touch the side of my ribs over my horrific female tuxedo jacket that I rented from a dilapidated store beside a gas station.
I got the tattoo three years ago. It’s my favorite quote by John Muir: The Mountains Are Calling And I Must Go.
My heart starts beating a little harder as I perk up in my seat. I’ve always felt drawn to the mountains. They’ve always called to me.
Richard never understood my fascination with them. He never wanted to go.
But now, I have no excuse. I have nothing holding me back.
“Okay,” I say to Megan with a firm nod. “Okay!”
“Okay, what?”
“The mountains are calling,” I say as I stand up on wobbly legs, “and I must go.”
“Whoa!” she says, grabbing me when I nearly tip over. “Maybe you should go to the coffee station first.”
“Coffee first!” I say with a determined grin. “Then the mountains!”
Ashley
“You must be Ashley Botter!” a middle-aged man with messy salt and pepper hair says with a huge smile on his face. “I’m Mitch!”
I look behind me in confusion, even though I’m probably the only Ashley Botter in the nearest thousand miles. He just seems so friendly and excited to see me, which makes me think he’s certainly got me confused with someone else. Where I come from, strangers are never excited to meet you. Annoyed, cautious, and hostile, yes, but never excited.
“I’m from the Greene Mountain Lodge!” he says with his big wide blue eyes sparkling in joy. “I’m driving you there!”
“Okay,” I say as I walk out of the train station and follow him to his van. The logo of the resort is on the door, so the odds of him being a serial killer are low. I hope.
He puts my bags in the trunk and opens the door for me.
“Oh, the front seat,” I say as I reluctantly get in. “How nice.”
He closes it and is singing to himself as he walks around to the driver’s side.
This place is so different. I’m from New Jersey and I’m forced to make the horrific commute to Manhattan three times a week for work, so I’m used to city people. Mean, angry, never-smile-unless-they’re-trying-to-steal-your-wallet city people.
The people here are so dang happy. And why not? Look at these breathtaking mountains, the crisp summer air, the feeling of peace in your soul. This place is magical.
“What brings you to Montana?” Mitch asks as he starts driving.
“Oh, you know… just needed a vacation.”
“Well, you came to the right place,” he says with a warm genuine smile. “You’re going to love it here. You won’t want to leave.”
“I think you’re right about that,” I say as he pulls into the adorable mountain town. The streets are made of cobblestone and the shops all have that warm inviting look like they were designed by a Hallmark movie character.
I’m enchanted by the town. I’m in awe of it.
The delicious inviting smell of freshly baked bread hits my nose as we drive by the cute little bakery. My mouth waters as I make a note to return and get some warm savory goodies tomorrow.
This place is amazing. It’s so wholesome and inviting. The post office is a tiny building with a red door and an old-timey hand-painted sign.
The cozy restaurants have folded chalkboards on the sidewalks with the specials written in chalk and patios where friendly locals are hopping from table to table, catching up on the town news.
I love it here. It’s perfect.
“You gotta try the fish and chips at McArthur’s,” Mitch says as he points to a cute little restaurant with a full-size grizzly bear carved out of wood beside the front door. “Tell the waitress April I sent you and she’ll give you a free apple pie.”
I smile as we drive past it. He knows the waitress’ name. I’ve never, in all my life, known a waiter or waitress’ name.
“So, what do you plan on doing out here?” Mitch says as we drive out of the town and head up a mountain road. The trees around here are unreal. They’re so freaking high. I keep looking up at them in awe.
“Oh, I don’t know,” I say as I grip the handle on my door when we go up a steep incline. “A little hiking, swimming, I don’t know.”
I know what I want, but I’m not about to tell him that. The warm, inviting, wholesome Mitch would probably have a heart attack if he knew what dark desires were stirring in my belly.
I want this to be a vacation that changes everything. That rocks my life so hard that I can’t go back to the hell I was living back home.
I sigh as I see a squirrel jump from one tree to another.
I’ll probably just end up eating a lot of meals alone and reading on my balcony all night. The hotel is probably going to be full of families and couples. I doubt there will be a lot of hot single men wandering around.
Oh well, I’ll just have to make the best of it.
“That’s the lodge?” I say, staring in shock when the most stunning building I’ve ever seen comes into view. It’s breathtaking.
I read an article about it in The Luxury Traveller Magazine, but the pictures did not do it justice. This is unreal.
The luxurious stone and log building sprawls along the base of a spectacular mountain and there’s a beautiful lake within walking distance. This is mountain living! This is fit for a king and queen.
“That’s it,” Mitch says with a chuckle. “Everyone has that reaction. She’s a beauty isn’t she?”
A beauty? She’s hot as fuck is what she is.
I’m still staring in awe as he drives up to the front door and stops the van. I get out and inhale the fresh mountain air as the friendly doorman gets my bags from the trunk.
“You have yourself a great vacation,” Mitch says with an enthusiastic shake of my hand. “I’ll be around if you need anything.”
“Oh, let me get…” I say as I reach into my bag for a tip.
“No, no, no,” he says with a warm smile. “That’s not necessary. It was my pleasure.”
He hops into the van and drives away, leaving me standing here stunned. What is happening? What is this place?
I’m trying not to shake as I walk into the spectacular lobby with the giant stone fireplace. I imagine walking in here after a day on the slopes, chilled to the bone, and sitting in front of the roaring fire. I have to come back here in the winter…
There are identical twins at the reception desk. They both have the same round black-rimmed glasses and the same straight black hair cut into a bob. I glance at their nametags as they stare at their computers—Tina and Tiffany.
They don’t look up. Now, this is more like the kind of service I’m used to.
“Excuse me.”
Tina looks up at me with raised eyebrows. “Yeah?”
“Can I check in?”
You’d swear I asked her to help me move apartments with the way she sighs. “Name.”
I give her my name and reservation number and she pulls out my keycard.
“Are there any good hiking trails around here?” I ask, excited to explore that spectacular mountain outside.
“There’s a movie theater in town,” Tiffany says. “Have you ever been?”
“To the movies?” I say, staring at her in confusion. “Yeah. Um. Why?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. I’m just trying to understand why someone would want to go hiking.”
“You can go shopping,” Tina says.
“Or eat at a restaurant,” Tiffany not-so-helpfully points out.
“Thanks,” I say with a curt smile. “But I want to go hiking.”
“There’s bears.”
“And mosquitos.”
“And it’s mostly on an incline, so you’ll get all sweaty and gross.”
“Yeah, but she’s already all sweaty and gross from the train ride.”
“That’s true.”
“Excuse me,” I say, staring at them in disbelief. “I’m not all sweaty and gross.”
They both crinkle their noses up in the exact same way as they look at my armpits. I self-consciously tuck my arms in.
“Why don’t you have a massage at the spa?” Tina says.
“Or a nap,” Tiffany adds. “Naps are amazing.”
“Thanks, but I’d like to go on a hike.”
I grab my keycard and step away. I think I’ve had enough of these two.
After dropping off my bags in my amazing room with the amazing mountain view, I throw some yoga pants, a tank top, and some running shoes on, and head outside.
All the stress and disappointment I’ve been feeling just melt away once I get onto a trail and into nature. I look up and smile at the huge Ponderosa pine, wondering how long it’s been here and how long it will remain towering over the earth after I’m gone. How many birds have built nests in its huge branches, trusting it to keep their precious eggs safe? How many squirrels have darted up the trunk as they scurried away from hungry predators hoping to make them their lunch? How many bears have used it as a back scratcher?
