Page 18 of Chiseled Mountain Man

Now his eyes widened. At least that was something. Anything but a neutral expression was welcome right now. I needed a hint of what he was thinking.

“I don’t want you to ever go,” he said. “I know that’s a lot to ask. But you plan to move to Seduction Summit, anyway. You just have to get the business loan, right?”

The reality of everything came crashing down on me. Telling my parents I wasn’t going to law school. Dealing with their disappointment. Packing up and moving to a new town.

But why did I have to feel responsible for that? I was a grown-ass woman. I had a college degree and a business plan. I didn’t need their permission to live my life.

“I’m going to call them,” I said, lifting my phone. “Not right this second, of course. Later today. I’m going to tell them I’m not coming back. Well, I’ll have to go back to pack up my apartment, and I need to find someone to take over my part of the lease, but that shouldn’t be too hard. I have a lot of friends who just graduated college and are looking for a place to live. I just have to find a rental here.”

“You can move in with me,” he said. “Is it too soon for that?”

“No.” I was surprised to hear myself say that. And I fully meant it. “I mean, I could rent a place while we get to know each other.”

“You’d have to go all the way to Adairsville to do that,” he said. “There aren’t many rentals here. Not yet, anyway. I know it’s soon, but I’ve never felt anything like this before.”

Those words went straight to my heart. They were a relief too. That was exactly how I felt.

But he’d been my first time. It seemed normal for a virgin to assume her first time was her one true love. It was almost a cliché.

“I’ll tell you what,” he said. “You move in here, and if you want, you can stay in the guest bedroom. I have a feeling I’ll just be sneaking in there all the time.”

“Or I’d be sneaking into bed with you.” I smiled at him. “We have plenty of time to figure it out. But I may head over to the lodge and watch the competition today. I made friends with some of the other bakers. Maybe we could join forces and open a bakery here together.”

In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I liked that idea. We’d each share in the profits, but we’d also have a better chanceat getting a loan between a group of us, right? I didn’t know how that worked, but I couldn’t wait to find out.

“Sounds like a plan,” he said. “But first, I want a little more time with you before you get out of bed. Then maybe I’ll make you some coffee and breakfast.”

I liked that. And I liked the idea of this guy making me breakfast. In fact, everything about this was perfect. The rest of my life began today. Or maybe it began yesterday when I first laid eyes on him.

Whatever it was, I was beyond grateful that I’d come to Seduction Summit. It was my new home, and I was never going to leave.

EPILOGUE

SEAN

Come home.

Those were the two words I texted to my beautiful bride while she worked her fingers to the bone at Seduction Summit Sweets. It was the bakery she’d opened with some of the women she’d met at the competition. They shared in the profits and the labor, which worked out well because, like Bronte and me, they didn’t want to work eighty-hour weeks.

I smiled as I saw headlights through the blinds. She’d just pulled into the driveway. I kept smiling as I carried a bowl of spaghetti sauce to the table. I wasn’t the world’s best cook, but Bronte loved coming home to a piping-hot meal. There were plenty of nights where she returned the favor, but now that she was pregnant, it was more important than ever to keep my wife well-fed.

I heard the key in the lock as I was setting the pitcher of strawberry lemonade—her favorite pregnancy indulgence—on the table. “Welcome home,” I said, gesturing to indicate the spread in front of me.

She froze just inside the doorway, gaping at me. She was six months pregnant and working shorter hours at the bakery.Standing on her feet all day didn’t bother her when she wasn’t pregnant, but it had started to get to her lately.

“What’s the special occasion?” she asked.

“No special occasion.” I shook my head. “I just knew you’d had a long day.”

By “special occasion,” she wasn’t referring to the fact that I’d cooked her dinner. What she was referring to was the dim lighting with the glow of candles all around.

This was as much her home as mine. It had become that the day I’d met her. In fact, from that day forward, anything I had was hers.

She set her work bag next to the door, as always. But when she started toward me, something was different. She didn’t look tired. Instead, she had a big smile on her face.

“Can it be reheated?” she asked.

I frowned, trying to piece together exactly what she was saying. “Sure.”

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