Page 11 of How to Wed a Mountain Man

“Yes, he definitely prefers his privacy,” I say with a smile. “But we’re enjoying each other’s company.” Heat rises in my cheeks as I remember last night—how we finally connected, theintimacy we shared. I take a quick sip of coffee to hide my flushed face.

“Do you have anyone lined up to photograph your wedding?” Courtney asks, reaching for a cookie.

“No, we’re keeping it really simple. Just a trip to City Hall in Fairhope.”

“Well,” Courtney says, “I’m actually a wedding photographer. I’d be more than happy to capture the day for you, if you’d like. No pressure, of course.”

“You should definitely take her up on that,” Jordana adds. “Courtney takes the most gorgeous photos.”

“That’s such a kind offer,” I say. “I’ll talk to Hawk about it.”

Jordana shifts again on the couch, clearly uncomfortable in her pregnant state despite the smile on her face. “Tell us about your dress, Paige. What does it look like?”

“Oh, it’s just a simple white dress I found at a thrift store. And I’ll wear the veil you saw when I stopped at your house to ask for directions.” I think about how I’d hoped Hawk would find my little veil amusing. He definitely hadn’t, but so much has changed between us since that awkward first meeting. I wonder what his reaction would be now, seeing me in my veil again…

“I’m sure you’ll look beautiful,” Courtney says warmly. “Sometimes the simplest weddings are the most meaningful.”

“Thank you, I hope so.” Feeling like I’ve dominated the conversation long enough, I turn to Jordana. “How are you feeling, Jordana? You must be excited to meet your little one.”

Her whole face glows as she rubs her belly. “Six more weeks to go—though honestly, I’m ready for this baby to come out yesterday. Griffin is pretending to be chill about it, but I catch him constantly reading parenting books when he thinks I’m not looking.”

I smile. “What does your husband do?”

“He counsels veterans,” Jordana explains. “He served for twelve years himself. He’s a bit of a recluse too, though not quite as much as Hawk.”

“I saw one of Hawk’s carvings at the bank in Fairhope,” Courtney mentions. “It was stunning.”

“His work is incredible,” I say, pride swelling in my chest. “The detail he puts into each piece, the way he brings the wood to life…I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Jordana and Courtney exchange a smiling look.

“Aww,” Courtney says. “You’re so in love with him.”

The words hit me hard. Am I? No, it’s too soon for that. But I can’t exactly explain that to them without revealing the unusual circumstances of our relationship.

Fortunately, the conversation shifts to safer topics. Courtney tells stories about her girls’ latest adventures, and how Ryder has been working on some gorgeous custom lamps for a new client. Jordana shares what it’s like running her auto shop in Fairhope, though she’s cut back to just a few days a week now with the baby coming. They both talk about the challenges and joys of mountain life—the isolation, the need to plan ahead for supplies, but also the peace they’ve found here.

“Thank you both for being so welcoming,” I say as the afternoon winds down. “It means a lot, especially since I’m still finding my footing up here.” I laugh softly. “I can’t promise I’ll ever convince Hawk to join us for coffee, but I’d love to do this again.”

“Anytime,” Courtney says, pulling me into a warm hug. “We mountain women need to stick together.”

On the drive back to Hawk’s cabin, their words about being in love with him keep echoing in my head. I know I’m not in love with him—they just misread my enthusiasm about his work. But when I think about yesterday in his workshop, the way he opened himself up to me…and then last night, the frenzied heat between us, how hot he made me feel…damn. My whole body feels warm and shimmery at the memory.

I find myself laughing at the ridiculousness of my situation. Here I am, hoping I’ll fall in love with the man I’m already planning to marry.

But maybe that’s okay.

Maybe sometimes love grows from unusual beginnings.

7

HAWK

I’m polishing the wedding ring I just made for Paige when the rumble of her off-roader grows audible outside. I trace my thumb along the rosewood one last time, feeling the smoothness of hours of careful work. Every detail had to be perfect for the woman who’s becoming my wife.

I pocket the ring and step out into the yard as she parks. She climbs out of the driver’s seat, radiant. It’s obvious that spending time with other people energizes her in a way it never did for me.

“How’d it go?” I ask as we head inside together.

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