Page 89 of Mountain Wood

“You little stalker,” he finally says, eyes narrowing.

“You’re not mad?”

“Grace, why do you keep asking if I’m mad?”

“Because… I keep doing things without permission.”

He cups my cheeks. “You’re a grown woman. You don’t need to ask anyone for permission to do things.”

Maybe he’s right. Maybe I’ve gone too long under my mother’s stilettos to understand that I have freedom to do anything I want now.

She’s going to shit a brick when she finds out about this. Perhaps it’ll be the final straw, and she’ll disown me just like she did Mason. It would be so much easier that way because the guilt of doing it myself would no longer be an issue.

Wow, I’m a mess.

“I won’t post anything without your approval first,” I assure him.

“You can post whatever you want.” He tips my chin. “I trust you.”

Dean keeps saying and doing things that make me fall deeper for him. How far does the Dean love hole go?

Eww. Remind me to never sayDean love holeagain.

“I can’t believe you put this whole thing together without me catching you creeping,” he teases. “We make a pretty great team.” His dreamy smile stays in place as he watches the video again.

It solidifies my plan to give the internet what they’re looking for.

“They’re going to fall in love with you, Dean.”

“I don’t care about them. I just want you to keep falling in love with me.”

That won’t be a problem.

By two o’clock, we’re finishing lunch while going over the list of supplies we need in town. The sky’s grey, just like it’s been for the past week. “My weather app says cloudy. No snow.”

“Those things aren’t accurate.” Dean taps his temple. “I am.”

He’s been warning me about a huge snowstorm coming for over a week, and it’s yet to happen.

We polish off the burgers he made for lunch, and I collect our plates to wash them. Dean grabs my wrists, rubbing his thumb over my skin. “Thank you.”

“I haven’t done anything yet.”

“You’ve done plenty.” His dark brown eyes lift to meet mine and I swallow hard. Not knowing how to respond in a proper way, I say, “Check the stats again, superstar.”

Excitement and nervousness dance on his face, but he lets go of me and opens the app. His numbers are climbing steadily. And when he hits my account, the number of views on the video I made of us is close to hitting five hundred thousand.

In less than an hour.

“This is incredible. Scary, but… incredible.”

“It won’t last,” I warn. “But we can use it to our advantage while it’s here.”

I’m just not sure how yet. Yes, getting him more followers and views will help his side hustle, and thus make Dean the money he needs for renovations, but I want more for him.

“What’s your five-year plan?”

Dean turns his phone over and lays it on the table. “I have no idea anymore. I’ve been living day-to-day, counting pennies for as long as I can remember.” He sighs heavily. “My roots are here. I don’t want to ever sell, but I can’t rely on the cabins to make me enough money to carry on, either. Not in the condition they’re in. And this property is too much for one man to maintain. Plus, with the surrounding ski resorts sucking up all the tourists, this business is destined for doom.”

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