Page 12 of Ignited By the Mountain Man
"She needs to think about it," Silas said smoothly, his hand finding mine. "It's a big decision."
Bobbi nodded. "Of course. Take all the time you need." She squeezed my free hand. "Just know that you're welcome here, dear. More than welcome."
As she walked away, I stood frozen, my hand still in Silas's.
"Two busybodies,” he said quietly. "That's what had you ready to run."
"It wasn't just them." My voice came out smaller than I intended. "It was everything. The looks, the whispers. I felt like I didn't belong."
"You do belong." He turned me to face him, his hands gentle on my shoulders. "You belong here with me, if you want to. Not because of your article or your work, but because of this." He gestured between us. "Because of what we have."
"We've known each other for two days."
"And it feels like a lifetime, doesn't it?"
It did. That was the terrifying, wonderful truth of it.
"I'm scared," I whispered.
"Of what?"
"Of wanting this too much. Of letting myself believe I can have a home here." I looked into his dark eyes. "I've been running for so long, I don't know how to stop."
"Then don't stop." His thumb brushed across my cheekbone. "Just change direction. Run toward something instead of away from it."
"What if I'm not cut out for small-town life?"
"What if you are?" His smile was soft, hopeful. "What if everything you've been looking for has been waiting for you here?"
I thought about Sienna's words.When you know, you know. I thought about the fire we'd built together, the way he'd made me feel safe and wanted and cherished. I thought about the workshop where he'd created beautiful things with his hands and how I'd felt more at home there in one night than I had anywhere in years.
"I don't have a permanent address," I said weakly. "I don't even own furniture."
"I make furniture for a living." His grin was wicked. "And I have plenty of room at my place."
"Silas…”
"Stay," he said simply. "Write your article. See how it feels to be part of something instead of always documenting it from the outside."
"What if it doesn't work out?"
"What if it does?"
I looked around the festival, seeing it with new eyes. Not as a journalist capturing a story, but as someone who might actually belong to this community. Who might build a life here.
"I'd have to go back to Chattanooga first," I said slowly. "Pack up my stuff, finish some assignments…”
"I'll help you move." He didn't even hesitate. "Whatever you need."
"This is crazy."
"The best things usually are."
I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him, right there in the middle of the apple orchard with festival-goers wandering past and the autumn sun shining down on us.
"Okay," I whispered against his lips. "Let's be crazy together."
His smile went straight to my heart. "Forever?"
