Page 16 of Hot for the Mountain Man

I smiled, chest swelling with quiet pride. "The Forest Awakening."

"You've transformed our little community center into something out of a dream." He shook his head in wonder. "The Conservation Fund board is going to be blown away. I can't thank you enough."

"It was my pleasure," I told him sincerely. "Sometimes spaces just need someone to see their potential."

Hank checked his watch. "Three hours until guests arrive. Everything's on schedule?"

"The caterers arrive in forty-five minutes, bartenders right after. Sound system is already tested, and the florist just delivered the last arrangements." I ticked off items on my mental checklist. "I'd say we're in excellent shape."

"Then go get ready," Hank insisted, giving me a gentle push toward the door. "You've done more than enough. I can handle the final details."

"Are you sure?" I hesitated, scanning the room for any overlooked elements.

"Positive. Besides," he added with a knowing smile, "I hear you have a date with our keynote speaker. Can't keep the man waiting."

Heat flooded my cheeks. News traveled fast in Ashwood, apparently. "Well, when you put it that way..."

Back at Rachel's cottage, I stood before the bathroom mirror, scrutinizing my appearance with unusual intensity. My hair was freshly washed and styled in loose waves that framed my face. My makeup was carefully applied—subtle enough to appear natural but polished enough for a formal event.

The dress hung on the back of the door, still wrapped in the protective cover from the boutique. After I’d acceptedGrant’s invitation to be his date for the gala, Rachel had insisted on taking me to Lily's Closet, Ashwood's only dress shop, convinced I needed "something special" for the event. I'd protested that I had plenty of cocktail dresses in my suitcase, but Rachel had been adamant.

"Trust me, dear," she'd said with twinkling eyes. "This is a special occasion."

The moment I'd tried on this particular dress, I'd known she was right. It was a deep emerald-green silk that made my eyes pop and complemented my fair skin. The sleeveless design featured a modest V-neckline in front, but the back dipped low, exposing my shoulder blades in an elegant line. The skirt flowed to just below my knees, allowing movement without being overly revealing.

I slipped it on now, the cool fabric sliding against my skin. As I fastened the hidden side zipper, I wondered what Grant would think. Would he find me attractive in formal wear? Did he even care about such things?

A memory flashed—Grant's eyes darkening when I'd nearly fallen at the picnic, his strong hands steadying me, the moment when I'd thought he might kiss me. My heart quickened at the recollection. There was definitely attraction there, even if he kept it carefully controlled.

The sound of tires on gravel pulled me from my thoughts. I peered through the window to see Grant's truck pulling up precisely at six. My pulse skittered as I watched him step out, dressed in his formal uniform. The dark navy fabric stretched across his broad shoulders, brass buttons gleaming in the early evening sunlight.

I slipped on my heels, took one last glance in the mirror, and grabbed my small clutch purse. A deep breath to steady my nerves, and I opened the cottage door.

Grant stood on the small porch, his hand raised as if about to knock. For a moment, he simply stared, those storm-gray eyes widening slightly as they took in my appearance. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed.

"You look..." he paused, seemingly searching for an adequate word. "Beautiful."

The simple compliment, delivered in his deep voice, sent warmth cascading through me. "Thank you," I replied softly. "You clean up pretty well yourself."

A hint of color touched his cheekbones. Then, surprising me, he brought his hand from behind his back, revealing a small bouquet of wildflowers tied with a simple ribbon.

"These are for you," he said, suddenly looking uncertain. "Picked them myself. Hope that's okay."

My heart melted at the unexpected gesture. "They're perfect," I breathed, accepting them with genuine delight. "Let me just put them in water."

Inside, I quickly found a small vase and arranged the flowers—delicate purple lupines, white mountain daisies, and sprigs of evergreen. Their fresh scent filled the small space, and I found myself unexpectedly touched by the thoughtfulness. It wasn't the expensive roses a city date might bring, but these wildflowers from Fire Mountain meant so much more.

When I returned, Grant offered his arm with formal politeness that seemed at odds with his usual rugged demeanor. Yet somehow, it suited him—a gentleman beneath the gruff exterior.

"Ready?" he asked.

I nodded, slipping my hand through his arm. "Ready."

The drive to the community center was brief, filled with comfortable small talk about the weather and the expectedturnout. As we pulled into the parking lot, I felt a flutter of nervous anticipation—not just about the event's success, but about being seen publicly as Grant's date. It felt significant, like crossing a threshold in more ways than one.

The community center glowed from within, light spilling from the windows and illuminating the walkway where early arrivals were already gathering. Grant came around to open my door, offering his hand as I stepped out. As we walked toward the entrance, his palm came to rest at the small of my back, warm and steady.

"Nervous?" I asked, noticing the slight tension in his jaw.

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