Property of the Mountain Man (Montana Mountain Men, #1)

by Gemma Weir

“Daddy, I can’t believe you’re just sitting there laughing while he manhandles me,” she shouts at her dad, who is still just watching with clear amusement on his face.

Seriously!!!

“Baby girl, I don’t appreciate you screaming at me,”

All she does is cook and scream, but this time she has good reason.

“I’m not going in that house with you, Beau Barnett,” she screams when I slow to a stop outside the house. “Sure you are, baby girl,” I say, unlocking and opening the door. It takes a little maneuvering when she’s still kicking and flailing, but I manage to climb out and fling her over my shoulder without even breaking a sweat. She’s so tiny, I doubt there’s anything she could do to actually hurt me.

This reads like that current tiktok trend of revealing "cute" stories about how your grandparents got together only to find out your grandma was actually a victim. Jesus.

“Put me down you fucking asshole, I’m gonna get you arrested, then have you thrown in a mental ward with huge Russian orderlies twice your size. I’m going to kill you for this, Beau, I don’t know what you think gives you the right to manhandle me, but there’s thirty ranch hands back at my place who are going to take turns kicking your ass if you hurt me, and that’s only after my daddy shoots your dick off and my brother makes you eat it.”

This is the correct reaction.

“Bonnie, you’re so tiny and perfect there’s nothing you could do that’d cause me any damage. Look at me, honey, I’m a big guy.”

This reads like true crime. Girl, run!

This all seems really out of character for you, not that I know you well enough to really assess that.

This is one of the biggest problems. They don't know each other.

For the last year I’ve seen you most days and you’ve never manhandled me, or been even mildly flirty or inappropriate, so yeah all this,” she gestures between us and to the room around us. “Is freaking me the hell out. We don’t know each other, we’re not friends, we don’t hang out or talk about anything other than coffee.”

Bonnie, the occasional voice of reason.

“You’re all assholes and you should be ashamed of yourselves,” I say, turning around and looking at them each in turn. “Your brother carts a woman in here who’s shouting for your help, and you don’t even question if I’m okay before you let him cart me off into his bedroom. Your mama would be disgusted with you all,”

“Baby girl, sit your ass down and eat dinner with your daddy,” I growl, up and out of my chair and at her back a second later.

Dad doesn't mind the massive red flags, got it.

How does a girl who looks like Bonnie get to twenty-one without some guy claiming her virgin pussy?

The charmer.

He guides me with his firm grip on my nape out of the restaurant, ignoring the stares of every person in here who watches us leave.

Dinner and a peep show.

“Bonnie, just shut the hell up. I swear, woman, you were put on this earth to drive me fucking crazy.

Nice.

then I stripped her and put her in my shirt, and we slept.

So much recapping what we just read in this book.

“Four seventy-five please.” “No family discount?” he asks with a grin.

Dude. I want to live where the cost of living is so low that the coffee shop practically gives food and drinks away like this.

“Hal, I’m gonna be honest, I’m planning on taking Bonnie back to mine again tonight, so if whipping up a batch of cookies means she comes guilt free, then I’ll make fucking cookies. Hell, I’ll pay to have treats delivered every day of the god damn week,” I snarl. “Flour’s in the pantry, I’ll grab the chocolate chips,” Hal says, nodding at me approvingly

Cusses and acts like a horny neanderthal in front of her dad. Dad approves.

She isn’t high maintenance or difficult,

How do you know? Based on a few hours of kidnapping and harassing her at her job?

“Now,” he snarls. “I’m not going to fuck you with your daddy downstairs.”

A gentleman.

“What are you doing? Get out I can’t pee with you watching,” I hiss. “You are so fucking cute,” he laughs. “Out,” I cry, pointing to the door. “Fine, but don’t get used to it, I don’t want us to hide anything from each other,” he announces,

Beau has never met a boundary he didn't crush with his meaty, caveman fist.

it wouldn’t be the first time my brothers have gotten an eye full of my cock,”

WTFUUUUUHHH

I want to marry her and breed her,

...WTF.

“Did you put him up to this?” Beau’s eyes harden in warning before he shakes his head.

You could easily change this book to a domestic thriller with passages like this.

“To big dicks and the men who know exactly what to do with them.”

Why are all the other women in this book awful?

I double wrap every fucking time,” he growls.

No wonder he thinks she has a magical vagina! He's barebacking after decades of wrapping it up tight enough to lose circulation.

What I don’t tell her is that the GMC isn’t a loaner, it’s the car I bought for her when Penn told me how much work the Toyota needs to be safe to drive up and down the mountain with my woman in it.

High-handed mofo.

So instead I stay quiet, cross the room to where she’s standing, and kiss her, telling her all my secrets in the silent way that all men in love do when they can’t use words.

That's actually very sweet.

“Baby girl, I’m fucking warning you, you are not leaving the house in that dress.”

Calm down, Dad.

I actually hope she meets someone new, then she’ll finally get away from Mitchell.

No you don't. I had a suspicion about the next book so I checked it out, and let's just say Huck should be called Hyuck, because he must be goofy if he thinks the way he treats Cora is okay.

I suck her nipple into my mouth as I part her folds and push two fingers into her all the way to the knuckle.

Sir, that is a delicate instrument. You can eat the soap off her nips if you want, but you can't go cramming you lumberjack sausage fingers in there all willy nilly. At least a little prep is in order, god.

“I got to go, baby girl, see you later,” he says, kissing me before smacking me on the ass and turning to leave, a shit eating grin etched across his face.

Ok cool, but one of the most unrealistic parts of this book is how he throws out orgasms like Mardi Gras beads, but almost never asks for reciprocation. His blue balls must be the stuff of legend.

“Well that’s a shitty thing to do,” she says, the smile replaced with a frown.

Take heed, grasshopper. The sequel features you and your very own walking red flag.

All six of my brothers are with me,

Great, the freakin' Getalong Gang is all here. (And that's a reference Beau would get, but Bonnie wouldn't. Because she is an infant.)