Page 71 of Grumpy on the Mountain
I've got almost enough material now. Good pieces, carefully selected. The design's been rattling around in my head for weeks—something with multiple levels, a rope ladder, maybe even a pulley system for hauling up the "treasure" she insists on finding.
When's the last time I built something for pure joy instead of necessity?
When's the last time I had a reason to build something joyful?
I think about that night with Molly at the rescue station. How being around Jamie and the team wasn't as unbearable as usual. How having her there made everything... manageable.
Maybe I could call Jamie. Tell him I'm ready to take on more Mountain Rescue work. It wasn't that bad when Molly was with me, and everything's better when she's around.
Everything's better when she's around.
The realization hits me like a freight train.
It's not just the sex, though Christ knows that's incredible.
It's not just the way she looks at me like I'm something worth keeping. It's the way her presence seems to quiet the noise in my head. The way she makes me want to be the man she sees when she looks at me.
The way she makes me remember that Iusedto enjoy talking to people. That I used to be part of something bigger than just my own survival.
I look at her now, sitting at my table in my shirt, phone in hand as she documents our morning like it's something precious.
Maybe I could handle a BBQ. If she's there. If she's by my side, making everything brighter just by existing.
Maybe I'm ready to try.
"Actually," I hear myself saying. "The stuff can wait. I think it's time I built that treehouse."
Both women look at me in surprise.
"For Maisie," I clarify, nodding toward the lumber pile. "I've been collecting materials. Got enough now to start."
"She's going to lose her mind," Molly says, her face lighting up.
"Will you need help?" Sienna asks. "David's good with his hands, and I'm sure some of the other guys would—"
"I can handle it," I interrupt, then pause and look at Molly. "Might need a supervisor, though. Someone to make sure it meets all the architectural requirements I've seen in those drawings."
Her smile could power the entire mountain. "I volunteer."
"Good," I say. "Then I guess I'll be at the BBQ tomorrow."
The words feel foreign on my tongue, but not wrong. Not when Molly's looking at me like I just offered to move mountains for her.
Which, honestly, I probably would.
For her, I'd do damn near anything.
Even rejoin the world.
Chapter Seventeen
Molly
If someone had told me a week ago that I'd be standing in my sister's backyard, watching my mountain god boyfriend build a treehouse while being critiqued by a six-year-old construction supervisor, I would have suggested they seek professional help.
And yet, here I am, pretending to arrange potato salad while actually ogling Beau's ass as he bends over to grab another piece of lumber.
Sweet Jesus, that man fills out a pair of jeans.
