Page 29 of The Forbidden Mountain Man Lumberjack
The morning light filters through the bedroom window, bathing our cabin in the soft golden glow that first made me fall in love with this mountain. I stretch, savoring the momentary stillness before the day begins in earnest. The space beside me is empty, but still warm. Wyatt hasn't been up long.
Today marks two years since I first arrived in Grizzly Ridge, clipboard in hand and certainty in my heart that I knew exactly what needed fixing. Two years since I met the stubborn, principled man who would become my husband.
I smile at the gold band on my finger, still new enough to catch my attention when it catches the light. Six months married, and the novelty hasn't worn off. I doubt it ever will.
A delicious aroma wafts up the stairs—Wyatt's famous sourdough pancakes. Special occasion breakfast. He remembers even the small anniversaries, marking them with quiet gestures that mean more than grand displays ever could.
Slipping from bed, I pull on one of his flannels over my sleep shorts and pad downstairs. The sight that greets me in thekitchen steals my breath, as it often does. Wyatt at the stove, his broad back to me, humming softly as he flips pancakes. He's wearing only jeans, his hair still rumpled from sleep, feet bare against the wooden floor we refinished together last summer.
"Morning, wife," he says without turning, somehow always sensing my presence.
"Morning, husband." I wrap my arms around his waist from behind, pressing my cheek against the warmth of his back. "Smells amazing."
He turns in my embrace, spatula still in hand, and drops a kiss on my forehead. "Happy anniversary. Two years since you stormed into my office and turned my life upside down."
"I did not storm," I protest with a laugh. "I waited very patiently for three hours while you deliberately kept me waiting."
"Best decision I ever made." He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch as gentle now as it was the first time. "Gave you time to fall in love with my office chair."
"And then with you," I add, rising on tiptoes to kiss him properly.
When we part, his eyes are dark with a heat that still sends shivers through me. "Breakfast first," he says, voice rough. "You'll need your strength for later."
"Promise?" I grin, stealing a piece of bacon from the plate on the counter.
"Always."
We eat at the kitchen island, trading sections of the local newspaper, a comfortable routine we've settled into. The front page features an article about Brennan Logging's innovative sustainable harvesting tracking system, now being adopted by companies across three states.
"Mike called last night while you were in the shower," Wyatt says, refilling my coffee mug. "The Forest Service hasofficially approved our expansion into the eastern sector. Said our environmental impact assessment was the most thorough they've seen."
Pride swells in my chest. "That's the third approval this year. The sustainable certification is really opening doors."
"All thanks to your modernization plan." He reaches for my hand across the island, squeezing gently. "I'd probably still be fighting digital tracking if you hadn't shown me a better way."
Two years, and sometimes I still can't believe the transformation—not just in Brennan Logging, but in the man himself. The company has grown by thirty percent, adding jobs while actually reducing their environmental footprint. And Wyatt has embraced change without sacrificing the core values that make him who he is.
"We should celebrate," I suggest, thinking of the news I've been waiting to share. "Maybe dinner at Maggie's tonight?"
He studies my face, that perceptive gaze seeing more than I sometimes intend to reveal. "What's that look about? You're plotting something."
"Maybe." I take a deliberate bite of pancake, making him wait.
"Sophia Brennan," he says, using the full name that still gives me butterflies, "what are you up to?"
I set down my fork, suddenly nervous despite having planned this moment for days. "I have an anniversary present for you. Well, two actually."
Reaching into the pocket of his flannel that I'm wearing, I pull out a small envelope and slide it across the counter. "This first."
He opens it carefully, brow furrowing as he pulls out the official letter inside. His eyes scan the text, then widen, snapping up to meet mine.
"The state forestry commission?" His voice holds disbelief mixed with pride. "You got the consulting contract?"
I nod, unable to contain my smile. "Signed yesterday. They want our model for sustainable digital integration implemented across all state-managed forests. It's a three-year contract, all work I can do from here. No travel required."
He's around the island in an instant, lifting me into his arms and spinning me in a circle that makes me laugh. "I'm so proud of you," he murmurs against my hair. "So damn proud."
When he sets me down, I stay in the circle of his arms, gathering courage for the second announcement. "There's more."
