Page 30 of Rescue in Misty Mountain

I pour him a shot, and start to step away.

He grabs my wrist.

“What are you still doing here?”

“Working,” I say evenly, though my heart is pounding. “I’m really just passing through.”

“Too bad. Pretty thing like you shouldn’t be alone out here.”

The bar goes quiet.

And then?—

The door creaks.

Boots pound on the hardwood.

Gage.

Dust on his jeans. Shirt clinging to broad shoulders. Hair a mess. And a look in his eyes that could start a fire.

“I’d let go of her,” he says, voice flat and dark.

Ben releases me.

Fast.

Gage’s eyes don’t leave him. Not until he slides off the stool and slinks toward the door.

Gage lowers his voice. “You keep this shit up, and you’re going to have a problem. One more mark on your record, and you won’t be in the town’s jail either.”

Ben shrugs him off, but increases his pace.

Then Gage turns to me. “You alright?”

I nod. “Yeah. Just another jerk with boundary issues.”

“You want me to stay?”

And it’s that question that hits me in the chest. Not the rescue. Not the anger. Theoffer.Like I get to decide how this ends.

“I’m good now,” I say quietly. “Thanks.”

He leans in, voice low. “You need me, you call.”

“I will.”

Then he’s gone.

Just like that.

But I’m still standing there, flushed and shaky and wanting to chase after him like a damn fool.

***

Later that night, the bar is quiet. Empty. Just the hum of the fridge and the low creak of wood settling.

I lock the front door, flip the sign to CLOSED, and start the final sweep.

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