Page 47 of Mountain Wood

“Oh yeah?” He wraps me in a warm hug. “What kinds of ideas?”

“About how to make you more money.”

He freezes against me. Then he backs away. “I’m fine with money, Grace.”

“Bullshit.”

The warmth we made vanishes in the bathroom. I almost feel bad about it, but business and pleasure can’t be mixed. We’ve had our pleasure. Time for business. “Hear me out.”

Dean steps away to pick up the grout pan and shovel. I’ve clearly hit a sore subject, but if he’d just listen to my ideas, he’d be better off.

“I can set you up with a few endorsements,” I say, already feeling like an asshole for ruining our good morning. “And when you’re ready, when this property is ready, I’ll blast it on my social media.”

He huffs like that’s not going to make a damn bit of difference. “Sugar, your followersaren’t—”

Before he can finish that sentence, I open my biggest account and shove the screen in his face. “I makebankdoing this, Dean. I know what I’m talking about. And my followers have money. Say the word, and I’ll post and tag videos and pictures of Bear Creek Cabins all over the place and they’ll flock here in droves. Because yes, I have that kind of pull as an influencer. What I touch turns to fucking gold.”

He's so still, I’m not sure he’s even breathing.

Dean stares at my phone screen, and something tells me he’s seen all this before. He must have looked me up already. “None of this is news to you, is it?”

Annoyance flares in my cheeks because now I feel like a bragger.

“I’m not going to use you like that, Grace.”

“It’s not using if I’m offering.”

He shakes his head and starts grouting. “I can’t owe you.”

“What the hell doesthatmean?” Insulted, I stuff my phone back in my pocket and close my coat. When he doesn’t answer me, I storm away, but he catches my arm before I’m out the front door.

“It means I can’t stop thinking about you.” His expression turns painful. “It means when you leave, it’s gonna hurt like hell. And if I go down the road of owing you… I’ll never stop. I’ll take whatever you give me, just to keep you tied to me somehow, and that’s unfair to you.”

That’s… romantically creepy.

“Ever since you pulled up to my property, I can’t get you out of my head, Grace.”

In an effort to not let his confession mean so much, I play it off. “Don’t worry. It’s just a phase. You’ll get sick of me, eventually.”

“No.” His tone grows evenmore serious. “I don’t think I will. And that fuckingterrifiesme.” The rawness in his gaze has my heart holding its breath. I have no idea what to say to that. Suddenly, Dean’s eyes grow cold. “You should go.”

“What? No.” I can’t let him push me away. Not when I’m starting to feel good, for once.

“Grace,” he whispers, and I can’t tell if it’s a prayer or a curse.

So I say the first thing that comes to my mind. “No one’s ever looked at me like you do.”

He freezes. “How do I look at you?”

“Like…” I reach out and run my fingers through his dark hair. “This.”

I can’t explain it. I can’t understand this connection we’re growing. I don’t want to overthink it either. It’ll make me run and I have nowhere else to go. Nowhere else I’d rather be.

It’s just a tryst, I remind myself. This is only a fun affair. Nothing more will come of it. He’s right, when I leave in the spring, I’ll have to go back to Manhattan and leave him here on this mountain.

The reality that I’ll leave him at all makes my stomach clench.

You’re a mess, Grace. Stop acting like you’re in love. You don’t know him. He’s just a good lay.

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