Page 17 of Grumpy on the Mountain
"She's not your problem, Callahan," I mutter to myself, pushing the truck harder than I should as I navigate the windingroads back toward my cabin, choosing not to look back. "Not your fight. Not your girl."
But her voice echoes in my head:I'm glad it was you.
What the hell does that even mean?
She barely remembers me. It took her that fucking long to realize it was me. And even then, if Sienna didn't slip up, would she have noticed?
Not once did she click that I'm the awkward, angry kid who once orbited the periphery of her relationship with Riley. The one who watched from a distance as my brother slowly crushed the light out of her eyes.
I'm not that kid anymore. I'm harder. Darker. Broken in ways that can't be fixed.
And I should do everything within my power to stay away from such a precious gift to this Earth.
I speed too fast in this weather, but soon, my cabin comes into view through the trees and something in my chest loosens at the sight.
This is my fortress. My sanctuary. My self-imposed exile from everything that reminds me of what I've lost.
I park in my usual spot and kill the engine, letting the silence settle around me as I take some deep breaths.
Her scent lingers in the truck. Sweet, sweet vanilla.
"Fuck," I growl, hating how each sharp intake of breath makes my heart flutter with a tiny ray of hope.
I roll down the window, needing to clear my head. Needing to clear any trace of that woman from my life.
Then, as I reach for the door handle to escape inside, something catches my eye. A glint of metal in the center console.
Keys. Molly's fucking keys.
"Goddammit," I growl, snatching them up, letting them dangle from one finger. Then a moment later, another realization hits me. Her suitcase is still in the back of my truck.
"Perfect. Just fucking perfect."
I slam my palm against the steering wheel, hard enough to sting.
Because now I have to go back. I have to see her again. I have to face whatever this...thingis that makes my heart race and my palms sweat like I'm some teenager instead of a grown man with enough blood on his hands to drown in.
The keys sit innocuously in my palm, right next to where I'd hastily shoved my Purple Heart back under the console. The medal I got for diving on top of a wounded comrade when the explosive hit, shielding him with my body while shrapnel tore into my shoulder instead of his heart.
The medal I keep hidden because three others in my unit still died that day, and heroism feels like a fucking lie when you couldn't save everyone.
Just like I couldn't save Molly from Riley back then.
Inside my head, past and present collide in the worst possible way, reminding me why people like her should stay far away from broken men like me.
Because we don't protect… we destroy.
And Molly Jennings has been through enough destruction.
Chapter Five
Molly
I wake up in my sister's guest room to the sound of muffled laughter and what I'm pretty sure is her using her "sexy phone voice".
It's the one that means she's talking to her husband. And being inappropriately flirty. At eight in the morning.
Sunlight streams through the lace curtains, and for a moment, I feel almost... peaceful.
