BONDING WITH THE MOUNTAIN MAN (ROSEWOOD RIDGE MAVERICKS #3) BY LILAH HART – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Lilah Hart
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
GWENDOLYN
Posture.
That was what my mother had been mouthing to me when I passed
her on my way up the aisle at my big sister’s wedding. I didn’t get it,
so I kept moving even when she repeated the word over and over again,
mouth widening into an “O,” lips pursed and tongue practically spilling out
of her mouth with the second syllable.
“Mind your posture.” It was something she’d said to me and my big
sister from the time we were old enough to walk—maybe even when we
were still crawling around as infants. My memory didn’t go back that far.
“Men love a woman who exudes confidence,” she’d say. “Class and
beauty. That’s what it takes to get the right kind of husband.”
It worked for my big sister, Ashley, who was marrying the son of one of
Nashville’s wealthiest couples, and it would work for me. My father had
invited the very man he intended me to fall in love with to make sure of it.
“You may now kiss the bride.”
With that announcement, my sister’s self-absorbed creep of a husband
hauled her toward him in a kiss. The crowd cheered while my stomach
turned.
I looked out over the crowd, skimming past my mom, my gaze finally
landing on the gardens just beyond the outdoor events section of the
Rosewood Ridge Retreat Center. There stood a man—a tall, muscular man
with a shovel. Maybe a hoe or a rake—all I could see from here was the
handle.
Was that the gardener? And why did he seem to be staring directly at
me?
“I now present Mr. And Mrs. Jameson,” our family preacher announced.
He said more, but it sounded like nonsense to my ears. All I could think
about was the gorgeous gardener who was definitely strong enough to lift
me and carry me out of here.
The harp started up again, joined by the string quartet, and my sister and
her new husband took off down the aisle as rehearsed. That meant it was
my turn to slip my arm through the arm of the best man. He was the older,
married brother of the groom, and he’d whispered his room number into my
ear last night at the rehearsal dinner.
I still felt the gardener’s eyes on me as I neared the end of the aisle. Did
anyone else see him? He was far enough away that people might not notice
him—besides, the photographer was directly in front of us snapping
pictures. Most people would be too focused on posing to pay attention to
anyone behind him.
Still, as I stepped off to the side, splitting up from the best man, I looked
back over my shoulder and saw no sign of the gardener. Had I imagined
him?
I tried to get my mind off him as we posed for pictures and headed
inside for the reception. But my parents sat me at a table next to Jonathan
Monroe—the guy they wanted me to get to know. I couldn’t help but
compare him to a man I’d never even met—a certain gardener who’d
grabbed my attention in a way no guy ever had.
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