Page 65 of Grumpy on the Mountain
A man who doesn't feed on my power, but embraces it and worships it like it's something rare. Someone who doesn't try to dim my light to make his shine brighter, but instead stands beside me, his strong hands lifting me higher, encouraging me to burn even brighter.
In Beau's eyes, I don't see the calculation I grew used to with Riley.
Instead, I see a man who looks at my independence not as something to tame or break, but as something beautiful to protect and nurture.
When I finally release him, he's looking at me like I've just performed a miracle.
"Come here," he rasps, reaching for me.
But before I can crawl back up his body, an aggressive banging that echoes through the cabin erupts from the front door.
BANG BANG BANG.
We both freeze. Beau's eyes immediately go sharp and alert, his military training kicking in even in post-orgasmic bliss.
BANG BANG BANG.
"What the hell?" he mutters, already moving.
My first thought is pure, ice-cold terror:Riley. What if he found me? What if he tracked me down? What if—
BANG BANG BANG.
"Jesus Christ," Beau growls, rolling out of bed with the braveness of a man who's used to emergency situations.
He grabs a sheet and wraps it around his waist.Shit.Even in crisis mode, the man is ridiculously gorgeous. I can't help but stare at the way the fabric clings to his narrow hips and perfect ass.
"Stay here," he orders, but then seems to realize he's talking to me, not a soldier under his command. His voice softens and he reaches out to touch my leg gently. "Just... stay here, baby. Don't move until I see who it is, okay?"
I nod and he strides toward the front door. The bedroom door remains open enough so I can watch in fascination as he grabs a broom from the hallway closet on his way past.
Abroom?!
This man survived military combat, builds cabins with his bare hands, and rescues stranded families in blizzards, but when faced with an unknown threat, he arms himself with cleaning supplies.
I love him so much it physically hurts.
Wait. Did I just think—
"Molly!"
More loud banging cuts my thoughts off.
"MOLLY!I know you're in there!"
Relief floods through me so fast I nearly collapse. It's not Riley's voice.
It's Sienna's.
"Oh, thank God," I breathe, wrapping one of Beau's flannel shirts around myself. It hangs to my knees and smells like heaven, making me feel claimed and protected in all the best ways possible.
I hear the front door open, followed by my sister's familiar voice raised in full big-sister panic mode.
"What the HELL , Beau?! I've been worried sick! I couldn't sleep all night wondering if Molly was—" Her voice cuts off abruptly. "Oh.Oh my."
I creep toward the living room, still wearing nothing but Beau's shirt, and find the most ridiculous scene I've ever witnessed.
Sienna stands in the doorway, mouth slightly open, staring at Beau who's clutching his sheet around his waist with one hand and still holding the broom with the other like he's ready to battle dust bunnies to the death.
