Page 20 of Stuck with my Mountain Daddies

Asher gave a low whistle. “So like a walking ad?”

She shrugged. “More like a curated chaos coordinator. It pays well. When you’re on the right side of things.”

“The right side of things?” I asked, keeping my voice neutral.

She looked up at me, her hazel eyes dark and hard to read. “People turn on you quick.”

Asher leaned back in his chair. “You ever fall off a ski lift or something? That’s how influencers usually go viral, right?”

Riley rolled her eyes. “Not exactly. My so-called friend turned on me. I don’t think she liked the deals I was getting. She posted a video making me look like a terrible person.”

I felt my jaw tighten. “That’s all it takes? One bad moment, and people turn on you?”

She arched a brow. “You say that like you’re surprised.”

“I don’t understand the appeal,” I said. “Living your whole life on a screen. Making it look prettier than it is.”

Riley sat back, biscuit in hand. “You think it’s all shallow.”

“I think it’s not real.”

Her expression didn’t flinch, but her voice cooled. “And logging trees is more real?”

“It’s work. It matters. It builds something.”

“And I didn’t?” she challenged. “You ever try editing a brand video while dealing with comments about your thighs and strangers dissecting your entire life in real time?”

Beckett cleared his throat, quietly standing to grab another beer from the fridge. Asher stared between us like he was watching a particularly juicy tennis match.

“I’m not saying what you did wasn’t hard,” I said evenly. “But the world you built it in? It’s made of sand.”

She stared at me for a long moment, then smiled tightly. “Maybe. But you don’t get to judge me for the sand when you’ve never had to build there.”

That shut me up.

For a while, none of us spoke. Only the sounds of clinking silverware and the fire crackling in the hearth filled the silence.

She was infuriating. Defensive. Too quick with her comebacks. She walked into a room like she owned it, even when she didn’t want to be there.

And yet…

She made the air crackle.

She made me aware of every inch of space between us.

She made me want to keep talking just to figure out what the hell made her tick.

“Dessert?” she asked suddenly, setting her spoon down. “Or is that considered shallow too?”

Asher snorted. Beckett looked up with one raised brow. I rubbed a hand across my beard and leaned back in my chair.

“You bake?” I asked.

“No,” she said with a smirk. “But I know how to Uber Eats a damn good pie.”

I stared at her.

She winked.

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