Page 10 of Broken on the Mountain
I clap him on the shoulder. "You got this."
Turning back to our booth, I catch Piper watching me. There’s a strange expression on her face—part surprise, part something softer.Warmer.
"You just… do that?" she asks quietly as I slide back in beside her, our thighs bumping again. "Leap up and save the day?"
"Only when Betty's precious plates are involved," I joke, grabbing my cooling pancake. "Or kittens in trees. Or damsels climbing fire escapes. I'm telling ya, occupational hazards are everywhere these days."
She doesn't laugh. Just studies me with that unnerving intensity. "Well… you’re good at it. Taking care of things."
The compliment lands like sunshine on my skin.
"Someone’s gotta do it."
She traces the edge of our newly signed napkin-contract. "Etta just mentioned the trail conditions are good today. And something about a wine tasting at the bookshop?"
My head snaps up, the hope escaping from my chest. "You want to play tourist? With me?"
"Why not?" She takes a delicate sip of hot chocolate, leaving another perfect little whipped cream mustache on her lip. "We've got a contract now. Recreational cardio clause starts immediately, right?"
Before I can reply, before I can even process the sheer, giddy relief that she’s not bolting for the hills, Betty slams a Polaroidcamera down on our table. It’s the old-school kind, bulky and loud.
"Wall of Sweethearts needs an update," she declares, gesturing to a string of fairy lights pinned with dozens of slightly blurry Polaroids of grinning couples. "Come on you two. Smile pretty for the discount."
Piper groans and rolls her eyes. "Betty, we are not sweethearts—"
"Couples discount, remember?" I nudge her shoulder with mine.
She rolls her eyes, already scooting out of the booth. "Fine. But if this ends up on some Stone River Mountain romance blog, I'm suing."
We stand by the big front window, morning light streaming in. I wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her close. She fits against my side like she was designed for it, soft and warm beneath the borrowed flannel.
"Closer!" Etta shouts from her table. "Oh,come on! Grab her ass, Morrison!"
"Etta!" Mabel hisses, swatting her friend's arm.
Piper bursts out laughing and I grin down at her, unable to help myself.
Yes. God, yes. Last night really did happen.
The camera flashes before I look up and the Polaroid spits out the picture. Betty snatches it, waving it like a trophy.
"Adorable. Could be the cutest one yet!"
Piper peers at the developing image as Betty pins it proudly beside a photo of Jamie and Brooke looking similarly flustered and happy.
In the picture, Piper’s head is tipped back mid-laugh, her eyes crinkled. My arm is tight around her waist, my grin wide enough to crack my face.
We look… happy. Like we'retogether.
Like one of those couples on brochures for places I’ve never belonged.
Piper turns to me, her expression shifting back to something more guarded, more Piper.
"Okay, Golden Boy," she says, tapping the napkin contract in her pocket. "Rules are real. Weekends Only. Fun only."
I shove the dangerous hope back into its box and lock it tight.
"Copy that," I say, forcing lightness into my voice. My hand finds hers, lacing our fingers together. "I can do fun."
