Page 74 of Grumpy on the Mountain
Within an hour, the backyard is buzzing, and I'm discovering that small-town BBQs are apparently competitive sports when it comes to who can bring the most impressive dish.
Betty from the café has arrived with a dessert spread that has won awards at local shows. Pies, cookies, chocolatey goodness that I can't even begin to describe.
She immediately gravitates toward me with the kind of knowing smile that suggests she's been waiting for this moment.
"Well, look at you," she beams, pulling me into a hug that smells like vanilla and flour. "And look at him. Actually talking to people. It's a miracle."
She's right.
Beau's in the middle of what can only be described as an impromptu building consultation, with various rugged-looking men with beards, muscles and ripped shirts all offering advice, tools, and what sounds like increasingly ridiculous suggestions for treehouse modifications.
"Is that normal?" I ask, watching a guy who looks like he could wrestle bears casually hand Beau a level.
"Honey, we've been waiting three years for that man to let us help him with anything. This is Christmas morning for half the men in this town."
As if to prove her point, another mountain man approaches the group carrying what appears to be an industrial-grade drill.
"Seriously," I mutter to myself. "Does this town have a monopoly on ridiculously attractive men?"
"What was that, dear?" Betty follows my gaze and chuckles. "Oh, you're cataloging the single ones, aren't you? Let's see..." She points discreetly. "That's Chase over there with the drill—mountain rescue, broody as they come. Knox is the one with the dark hair arguing about foundation depth—he's ex-military too and runs the lumber mill now. And those twins by the grill are Tucker and Travis. They're new in town and word has it that they're not exactly friendly yet. Not like our Jamie over there, anyway."
"Jamie?"
"Jamie Striker." Betty says, pointing to the gate where the man himself has arrived. "Did you get a chance to talk to you yet? He's been asking about you ever since you and Beau rescued that family."
Before I can process what that means, a commotion from the construction zone draws my attention.
The man I met at the Mountain Rescue Station the other night is currently wrapping Maisie in what appears to be a bright orange construction vest that's about four sizes too big for her.
"There," he announces, stepping back to admire his work. "Now you're officially in charge."
"Like she wasn't already," David jokes, before a chorus of deep, grunted laughter breaks out amongst the men.
Maisie examines herself seriously, then nods with the gravity of someone accepting a position on the Supreme Court.
"If I'm in charge, I need a hard hat too."
"You know what…" Jamie grins, producing a tiny yellow hard hat from his truck. "I just knew you'd say that. Can't have the site supervisor without proper safety equipment."
The sight of Maisie in full construction gear, bossing around a group of grown men who are taking her every suggestion seriously, is so adorable I might actually die.
But then Jamie catches my eye over the crowd and starts walking in my direction, and my heart rate spikes for entirely different reasons.
What does he want? Is this about Beau? About the mountain rescue work? Oh God, is this about Riley?
Why would it be about Riley? Stop being so damn ridiculous.
"Molly," he greets me with that easy smile that probably makes half the women in town swoon. "Mind if I steal you for a minute?"
"Um, sure. I guess," I manage, following him toward a quieter corner of the yard where we can talk without shouting over the construction commentary.
"Listen, I'm glad Beau finally let go of your hand," he begins, and my stomach drops. "I've been talking to your sister. About you."
Oh no. This is it. He's figured out who Riley is. He's going to tell me I'm not welcome here, that I bring too much drama, that—
"And after seeing you with Beau the other night, I got to thinking…" he continues, completely oblivious to myinternal panic spiral. "We could really use someone with your organizational skills and people person energy over at the base."
"I'm sorry, what?"
