Page 69 of Grumpy on the Mountain
"Christ, this bacon's probably older than my last conversation with another human," I mutter, but the strips are cooking up beautifully anyway, filling the kitchen with the kind of smell that makes everything feel like home.
Home.
When did this place start feeling like home instead of just a fortress?
"Breakfast is ready," I call out, plating up the food.
"Oh my God, it smells incredible in here," Molly breathes, bouncing up from the couch and practically skipping over to peck me on the cheek.
My shirt rides up her thighs as she moves, and I have to grip the edge of the counter to keep from crossing the room and reminding her exactly what we were doing an hour ago.
Sienna follows more sedately, but I catch the way her eyes widen as she takes in the table I've set.
"Beau, this is..." Molly settles into the chair I pull out for her, looking up at me with those green eyes that make my brain stop working. "You didn't have to go to all this trouble."
"Wasn't any trouble," I lie, because the truth is I would have climbed Everest barefoot if it meant putting that expression on her face.
Sienna sits across from her, accepting the plate I hand her with a smile that reminds me exactly why Molly turned out so warm and genuine. Good family. The kind that builds each other up instead of tearing each other down.
An absolute contrast to where I've come from.
"This place really is incredible, Beau," Sienna says, cutting into her eggs and looking around the cabin.
Before I can deflect with my usual grunt and subject change, Molly jumps in with an enthusiastic bounce and beaming smile that makes her already gorgeous eyes twinkle even brighter.
"He built every inch of it!" she exclaims, gesturing with her fork like she's conducting an orchestra. "Can you believe that? The foundation, the walls, all the custom woodwork. The entire cabin is basically a work of art disguised as a house."
I freeze with my coffee cup halfway to my lips.
She's... bragging about me. About my work. Like she'sproudof what I've built here.
"I know, honey," Sienna says gently. "He builds everyone's places around here. But—"
"But this one isspecial," Molly interrupts, her voice getting more animated. "Beau doesn't just build for function. Every detail has meaning. Like the river rocks in the fireplace—he told me he collected each one himself because he wanted something that connected the cabin to the land. And the windows are positioned to catch the sunrise and sunset perfectly, so you're always connected to the natural rhythm of the day."
She remembers that? I mentioned the rocks and windows once, in passing, while giving her the tour.
For a moment, the only sound is the gentle clink of silverware against plates. Sienna's watching this exchange with the kind of smile that suggests she's figuring out exactly how deep this thing between us goes.
And me?
I'm sitting here like a goddamn fool, staring at the woman who just described my life's work like it's something worthy of admiration instead of just the desperate project of a broken man trying to build walls high enough to keep the world out.
No one has ever been proud of me before.
Not my parents, who saw everything I did as either meeting expectations or falling short of them. Not the military, where excellence was duty, not something to celebrate. Certainly not Riley, who spent our entire childhood making sure I knew that being older didn't make me better.
But Molly...
She talks about my work like it matters. LikeImatter.
"Well," Sienna says finally, her voice warm with amusement, "I can see why you decided to stay the night. But if he's gone and bought you a brand new phone, I think a phone call would've been nice."
"I know. We were… distracted." Molly's cheeks flush pink, but she doesn't look away from me. "Among other reasons."
I clear my throat, desperate to change the subject before I do something embarrassing. "More coffee?"
"Please," Sienna says, holding out her mug. As I pour, she glances around the room again, her gaze stopping on something behind me.
