Page 10 of A Very Grumpy Mountain Man

He looks down at the table, then back at me. “Sunlight & Timber.”

I suck in a breath. “That’s… beautiful.”

He shrugs again like it’s nothing, but I can tell he’s nervous about it. “It reminded me of you. Your smile. The way you light everything up. You’re the sunlight, Sienna. I’m just the guy trying to hold onto it.”

I don’t know what to say to that. My heart feels too full for words. So I reach across the table and take his hand.

His fingers curl around mine, warm and strong, and everything else fades away.

The food comes, and it’s incredible—he wasn’t lying about the bread—but the real highlight of the night is justbeingwith him. The way he listens. The way he remembers every little thing I say. The way he looks at me like I’m something special.

By the time we leave the restaurant, I’m completely and hopelessly smitten.

Outside, the air is crisp and cool. Kye walks me to the car, his hand brushing the small of my back. I feel his hesitation as he opens the door for me, like he wants to say something more but isn’t sure if he should.

I glance up at him. “Thank you. For tonight.”

“I’m glad you said yes.”

“Me too.”

There’s a moment. One of those charged, hold-your-breath moments when you think maybe—maybe—he’ll lean in.

But he doesn’t.

And neither do I.

Instead, he closes the door gently, rounds the SUV, and climbs in silently. He drives me home in comfortable silence, his hand resting on the gearshift, occasionally brushing close to my knee. Every time it does, my pulse skitters.

When we reach my apartment, he parks and walks me to the door.

“I had a good time,” I say, voice soft.

He nods. “I did, too.”

Another pause. I know he wants to kiss me. Iwanthim to. But something in his eyes tells me he’s holding back—like he’s still scared of pushing too far, too fast.

I decide to help him out.

I lean in and kiss his cheek, close enough to the corner of his mouth that my lips brush the edge of it.

“Goodnight, Kye,” I whisper.

He doesn’t move for a second. Then he clears his throat, the tips of his ears going red. “Goodnight, Sienna.”

I slip inside, shut the door, and lean against it with a smile so wide it hurts.

This crush? It’s not going away.

And after tonight, I don’t think I want it to.

SEVEN

Kye

If someone had toldme a month ago that I’d be up before eight on a Sunday morning to go to a farmer’s market, I would’ve laughed in their face.

Yet here I am—wide awake, showered, dressed in my best attempt at a “casual but not a complete recluse” outfit. I’m standing in the middle of downtown Wolf Valley, surrounded by flower stalls, homemade soap stands, and more small children than I’ve willingly been around in my entire life.

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