Page 20 of Broken on the Mountain
"Going on eight years now." He gestures toward the bookshelf along the far wall. "Found it half-collapsed, fixed it up board by board."
"You did all this yourself?"
"Most of it. Had help from the locals." His smile goes crooked. "Town's good at pitching in when something matters."
"It's beautiful," Piper breathes, scanning the room like she's cataloging every detail. "You should be proud, Charlie. It feels like stepping into a different era."
"That's the idea. You'd know better than most, coming from the city… This modern world's exhausting. Figured people needed somewhere to slow down, to relax and just…be."
Piper nods, eyes bright with genuine interest, and I should be listening.
Should be contributing to the conversation.
Instead, I'm watching her mouth form words, the way her bottom lip catches between her teeth when she pauses to listen. The soft curve of it, pink and full. All I can think about is how it tasted this morning in my kitchen.
How I want to lean across this table, cup her jaw, and bite down on that lip until she makes the same breathless sound she made when I took her home last night.
Do I get to do that again tonight?
"Well, I know better than to keep this grumpy bear hungry," Charlie winks at me. "I'll go and check on your food and be back shortly."
Charlie grins and disappears back toward the kitchen. Piper sighs and smiles across at me.
"Grumpy? I highly doubt that," she says lightly.
"You've never seen me when I'm hungry."
"Is that a threat?"
"Nope. It's a warning." I slide my foot under the table, running it slowly up her calf. "I get cranky when I don't eat."
Her breath catches, eyes darkening as my foot climbs higher. "Cranky how?"
"Impatient. Demanding." I press against the inside of her knee. "Some might even say…reckless."
She catches my wink and licks her lips. "Sounds terrible."
"The worst."
She's leaving soon. Fuck. She's really leaving soon. If I don't make my move tonight, who knows if she'll follow through with the 'agreement.' Maybe she won't come back every weekend.
"Here we are kind folks," Charlie says, returning with plates that make my mouth water just looking at them.
"Thanks, Charlie," Piper says, practically eye-fucking the food dropped in front of her.
To be fair… the Elk Smash burgersareincredible. Thick patties glazed with maple-bacon heaven, topped with caramelized onions and sharp cheddar, all stacked on brioche buns that glisten under the tavern lights. Mountain fries are piled high on the side, crispy and golden and dusted with that addictive rosemary salt I never have enough of.
And because Charlie's a goddamn saint, he returns one last time with a cast-iron skillet brownie, sitting it between us with only one spoon, vanilla ice cream already melting into rivers of sweetness.
"Told you burgers were lookin' good," Charlie says, crossing his arms with satisfaction. "Also, maple-bacon glaze? Fuck yes. I've discovered the Holy grail, you guys. Enjoy."
Piper stares at her plate.
"Remember, Chicago," I lean closer, voice dropping low enough that only she can hear. "Per clause three of the napkin contract, public flirtingispermitted."
"What?"
I weave the reminder of the contract in casually, hoping that triggers the same thing it does for me with her. Iwanttonight. Iwanther.
