Page 91 of Grumpy on the Mountain
"You'd look adorable. Can you imagine Etta and Mabel's reaction? They'd probably fall right off their gossip bench."
"They'd have a field day," I groan, but I'm fighting a smile. "Next thing you know, they'd be telling everyone I've gone soft. Started wearing pastels. Maybe taken up knitting."
"Oh God." Molly's whole face lights up. "Please tell me you know how to knit. I would pay good money to see those hands working tiny needles."
"Woman, I will throw you in that hot tub fully clothed."
She just grins wider. "Promises, promises, Callahan."
Johnson clears his throat, breaking through the moment of pure joy and elation with my girl. "Uh, Beau? Almost forgot. The parts delivery guy left something for her."
He gestures toward the passenger seat, where a small package sits on the pristine new upholstery.
"Must have gotten delivered to our shop by mistake," Johnson explains. "Said it was for Molly Jennings, figured it was yours since you've been here every day asking about the car."
Molly opens the passenger door and picks up the package, and I watch her face change as she reads the address label.
"What is it?" I ask, though something cold is already settling in my gut.
"This is my old address," she says slowly. "My apartment in the city."
The cold in my gut spreads, bringing with it the familiar hyperawareness of a threat assessment within the ranks.
Someone knows her old name.
Someone knows her old address.
Someone tracked her to this town, to this shop, with enough precision to have a package delivered to the exact location where she'd find it.
This isn't random. This isn't a mistake.
This is someone who's been watching. Learning. Planning.
"Don't open it," I say, my voice carrying the command authority I haven't used since leaving the service.
"What?"
"Don't open it."
I take the package from her hands, noting the weight, the shape, the way it's been wrapped.
"Beau, you're scaring me."
"Good," I say grimly, already calculating routes and timelines and how quickly I can get her back to the cabin safely.
Because if there is one thing I'm not ready to do, it's letting anything happen to her.
Chapter Twenty-One
Molly
I wake up to the most incredible sensation of Beau's mouth trailing soft kisses along my neck while golden morning light streams through those gorgeous windows.
But something's different about his touch this morning.
Usually, our wake-up routine involves him growling something dirty in my ear while his hands get deliciously demanding, and I end up laughing breathlessly as he manhandles me into whatever position strikes his fancy.
This is slower. More deliberate.
