Page 25 of Kissing the Wrong Mountain Man

"This one's going to be a pro baseball player," Brock says, grinning down at her.

"What do you mean?"

He lifts his hand for me to see where she's holding his finger with her tiny hand. "With this grip, she's destined to hit some home runs."

I laugh, which makes Willow gurgle contentedly, and Brock beams. He's doing that a lot lately, smiling and relaxing and just being the naturally great guy he is. It's a beautiful thing to witness the person you love rediscovering the breadcrumb trail back to their most authentic self.

"I'm so glad that Owen isn't being a you-know-what about custody," I say when we reach our usual spot.

He still wants nothing to do with me or Willow, but at least he's cooperating and not standing in the way of Brock adopting her. I take her from Brock while he lays out the picnic blanket on the grass. We sit down, and I place her snugly between us.

"I know. If everything goes to plan, she'll legally be mine in a few weeks."

I smile. She already is, and I love how strong their connection is. Brock was there the moment she entered this world, and I'm so happy my baby is going to grow up with two loving parents. We'll be there for everything, her major milestones, as well as all the small, everyday moments, too. Brock stretches his legs out and nestles Willow between them.

"I'm so proud of you," I say.

He turns to me, a little surprised. "Where did that come from?"

I shrug. "I don't know. Maybe it's seeing how you are with Willow. Or you being so generous with your money. Or how dedicated you are to volunteering with the search and rescue team and becoming a real-life hero."

He chuckles and shakes his head. "I'm hardly a hero."

"I'm pretty sure the couple you rescued out of that ravine last week would beg to differ."

"It's all part of the job."

"And I'm proud of you for going to therapy," I add. "That takes real courage."

He bats those ludicrously long lashes at me, his eyes glimmering in the spring sunshine. "Helps that I've got two of the best reasons in the world to get better right next to me."

I sweep my fingers through his beard as I marvel at the man I'm lucky enough to call my husband. "And to think, if I hadn't accidentally kissed you, none of this would have happened."

"Oh, I don't know. I think fate would have found another way."

I grin. "I love how you're so romantic."

His cheeks above his beard redden, the way they always do when I tell him that. "I'm not doing anything special.I'm just being me," I say that last part with him because that's how he always responds.

"Be that as it may, I love you with all my heart, Brock."

"I love you, too, Mrs. Palladino."

We kiss, and I can't believe this is my life. After a lifetime of disappointments and false starts, of dating guys with mommy attachment issues or who were jealous and unsupportive of my career or who dumped me the moment they found out I was pregnant, I've finally met a decent, solid, sexy man who takes ownership of his issues, treats me like a queen, and loves our child with all his heart. They may be rare as the Sierra Nevada red fox, but good men are out there.

We begin to make our way back down the mountain, and it makes my heart melt when I see Willow latching onto Brock's finger again. She really loves her daddy as much as he loves her.

I take a few deep breaths, the clean air filling me with the sense of peace that had been missing from my life for so long. After years of crisscrossing the globe and living in glamorous, bustling cities, I'm so happy to call the mountains home. I'm still connected to the real world—we finally got Wi-Fi, and Brock begrudgingly got a cell phone, mainly out of necessity for his search and rescue work—but we're also very much cocooned in our own little bubble.

A bubble that's about to grow bigger. I can't wait to tell him the good news.

"How's the writing coming along?" Brock asks. "Did you get over your dreaded midpoint bump?"

I smile, loving that Brock is so invested in my work he's picked up some author lingo. And that he continues to bring me drinks and snacks as I write in my second-floor office. We extended the place, and bywe, I mean Brock and a few of his friends did the addition over the winter while the three of us temporarily moved back in with my parents.

And that he's truly happy for me, trudging along on the short national book tour I did for my latest release, looking after Willow so that I could connect with my readers.

I know some—many?—people might look at us and think,It happened too quickly. It won't last.

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