Page 15 of How to Kiss a Mountain Man

With a heavy heart, I climb into Betty’s cab, needing to move her back into my spot. The suncatcher immediately catches my eye. The new chain glimmers in the light, clearly chosen with care. My chest tightens as I imagine Griffin picking it out, wanting to fix what he had accidentally broken.

That evening, I spread his paperwork across my kitchen counter. His address sits there in neat print, staring back at me.

The smart thing would be to let this go. But I don’t care about being smart.

The next morning, I point Betty up the mountain road. Trees crowd closer as I climb higher, their branches creating shifting patterns of sunlight across my windshield. The pavement eventually gives way to gravel, then to dirt. When I spot Griffin’s red truck through the trees, my heartbeat quickens.

He’s outside chopping wood, his powerful arms bare in a sleeveless shirt. The swing of his axe is mesmerizing, each stroke precise and controlled. He stops when he sees me, his expression unreadable.

I step out of my truck. “Hi.”

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

“I needed to see you.”

He drives his axe into the stump. “Why?”

“Because I can’t stop thinking about you.” My voice cracks a little as I speak. “Griffin, I’m so sorry for asking you what I did. Please forgive me.”

“It doesn’t matter.” His jaw tightens. “You made it clear you don’t trust me.”

“That’s not true.” I take a step closer. “Idotrust you.”

“Then why ask about what you found?”

“I don’t know. Because it was something I didn’t understand? Because I didn’t think about what a question like that might mean to you? Because I’m human and make mistakes?”

He stays quiet for a long moment, then his shoulders sag. “Shit. I’m sorry, too. For pushing you away, for letting my emotions get the better of me. And for not answering when you called. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to talk to you—I thought avoiding it would be easier. Honestly, I was just embarrassed by how I acted.”

“It’s okay. I understand.” I take a few steps closer to him. “Can I give you a hug?”

The corner of his mouth gently lifts. “Sure. That’d be nice.”

My heart pounds hard as I close the remaining space between us and wrap my arms around Griffin’s broad shoulders. His arms encircle me immediately, strong and secure, pulling me against his chest. The solid warmth of him surrounds me completely. I breathe in his woodsy scent, relishing how perfectly I fit against him. His heartbeat thuds steadily under my cheek, and the gentle rise and fall of his breathing makes me want to stay in his arms like this forever.

“Friends again?” I murmur against his shirt.

He nods. “Friends again.”

I know I should step back, but I linger in his embrace for a moment longer, memorizing how it feels to be held by him. When I finally make myself pull away, the loss of contact leaves me aching.

Griffin’s eyes hold mine, looking as if they’re searching for something. “Can you stay for a while?”

I nod. Griffin shows me into his cabin, and the second I step inside, the warmth and coziness of his home envelops me. Pine walls rise to exposed wooden beams overhead, and a stone fireplace dominates one wall. His living room is furnished with a comfortable-looking oversized couch, and large windows frame the view of the surrounding forest.

“Your home is beautiful,” I say, my gaze drawn to the wooden staircase curving up to the second floor. “Even the stairs are gorgeous.”

“Let me show you around,” Griffin says.

After showing me the rest of the ground floor, he leads me upstairs, where his home office is. At the end of the hall, a partially open door reveals a glimpse of a spacious bedroom with soft gray walls and a large bed made up in white linens.

“And that’s the tour,” he says quietly.

I turn to face him, and the air between us crackles with tension. My heart races as I study his face, wondering how to bridge this gap between us, how to do what I really want—which is to kiss him. Every cell in my body urges me forward, but uncertainty holds me back.

“About that night at your place,” Griffin says, his voice gentle and deep. “When we were interrupted. Were you relieved?”

My heart skips. I shake my head. “No. I was disappointed.”

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