Page 17 of Soul of the Mountain
“Did I do something, or…?”
“No, not at all. You’re perfect,” I assure her.
“I don’t know about that,” she replies, though the blush spreading across her rounded cheeks lets me know she likes my compliments. I’m sure she hasn’t had a lot of them in her life, and I want to make up for it starting now.
“I do. You’re strong and brave as hell. You’ve been through an immense tragedy followed by a betrayal that infuriates me every time I think about it. Despite all that, you forged a successful career, and in the last few days, you’ve opened yourself up to me. I’ll always cherish the trust you’ve put in me. I need you to know that.”
I stroke my thumb across her jaw and over her lips, tracing the delicate lines and memorizing each one. Gabby kisses the tip of my finger in a sweet, almost shy gesture. It’s so unlike the woman I pulled out of that car a few days ago.
“Don’t you want to be with someone who can cut down trees and repair stuff around the inn? You know, someone useful?”
Her tone is playful and teasing, but I hear the insecurity laced between each word.
I brush a few strands of silky dark hair behind her ear and press a kiss to her forehead. “I don’t want to use you, Gabby,” Iwhisper. “I’m not like your great aunt and uncle. I want you for who you are, not what you can offer.”
“You want me?” It’s barely a whisper, but I hear it louder than church bells on a Sunday morning. I’m fucking all of this up.
“Yes,” I tell her sternly. “I thought it was obvious after last night and this morning, but let me be clear.”
Her eyes lock onto mine, and I see her raw, fragile heart shining through. She wants to surrender to me. I feel it. But she’s holding back.
“Gabby, I–”
We’re interrupted by the phone at the front desk ringing. I look at the clock on my bedside table, surprised to see it’s nearly ten in the morning. I give Gabby an apologetic look and hop out of bed before grabbing sweatpants and a t-shirt.
“Willow Tree Inn,” I answer the phone on the fourth ring.
“Hey, it’s Cutter,” my friend says. “Sorry to call you at the inn, but your phone must be dead or something.”
“Huh, yeah, I guess I haven’t charged it since the storm took the power out.”
“Here, too. It was a brutal storm. Are you and Gabby okay?”
“Yeah,” I reply with a weird strain to my voice that I know Cutter heard.
“Oh? It’s like that, is it?”
“Uh, I’m not… it’s not… we’re not…”
“Sure, that’s how it always starts,” he says knowingly. I don’t bother protesting. “Listen, do you mind if Sadie and I stop by in a bit? She’s anxious to see Gabby.”
“Of course. You don’t need my permission. She’s a guest here at the inn.” Even as I say the words, I know they’re a lie. Gabby is so much more. I don’t know how much she wants everyone to know about us. I don’t even know if she wants there to be anus.
“Uh-huh,” Cutter replies, totally unconvinced.
“What about you and Sadie?” I ask, hoping to get the spotlight off me.
“How about I tell you about it when I get there?”
“Deal,” I say with a chuckle before hanging up.
If nothing else, I can ask Cutter how he’s reconciled falling in love with someone who works for the enemy, Top Spot Realty. I’ve had more than my fair share of letters from the higher-ups wanting to buy my inn. I’d never willingly let them have it, but if they come in and drive up property taxes, I might not have a choice. None of that mattered before, but now that the storms have passed, it’s time to face reality.
8
GABBY
“Where to next on our grand tour of the town?” I ask Sullivan as he turns left onto a cute cobblestone road.
