Page 19 of Snug with the Mountain Man
Her smile softens. “Then don’t.”
I snort. “That easy, huh?”
“Loving someone is the easy part, Ford. Letting yourself be loved back? That’s the hard bit.”
She pats my shoulder, then slips inside her shop, leaving me standing there like a man trying to catch his breath.
The cider festival is in full swing by the time I spot her.
Autumn has wrapped itself around Pine Hollow with golden leaves in the trees, pumpkins stacked beside the town square, and laughter floating on the breeze. Booths line the sidewalks, along with tables offering hot cider and homemade donuts and other things I ignore because I can’t take my eyes off Maisie.
She’s standing near a fire pit with Bonnie and a group of women I half-recognize, most of them new to town and married already. Maise is holding a steaming mug in gloved hands, her cheeks pink from the cold. That worn-in plum sweater she’s wearing is the same one she used to wear in high school, a little snugger now in the best damn way. Her nose crinkles when she laughs.
I push through the crowd, weaving around hay bales and kids chasing each other with candy apples, until I’m standing right behind her.
Bonnie spots me first. Her smile tilts.
Maisie stiffens when my arm slips around her waist, but only for a second.
“Hey,” I murmur.
She leans into me, turning slightly. “Hey.”
“You okay?”
She nods, but her smile’s tight. “I’ve been getting looks.”
“Good ones?”
“Mostly. A few look curious.”
“They’re just wondering if I’m worthy of you.”
She chuckles softly. “Are you?”
“Probably not,” I admit. “But I’m not going anywhere.”
Her eyes flick over my face. “You mean that?”
“I do.”
The wind picks up, rustling the leaves around us. Music plays somewhere in the background, twangy and sweet. Kids are laughing nearby, cider steaming from cups, donuts disappearing in powdered sugar clouds.
I could’ve pretended we were just a fling, just something casual in the woods. Let the town guess. But she deserves more than guessing.
I tilt her face up to mine with a gloved hand, stroke my thumb over her cheek.
“Ford,” she whispers, barely audible over the music.
I kiss her. Right there, in the middle of the cider festival, in front of everyone. It’s not a shy kiss. It’s slow and sure. A kiss that saysI’m yours.
When I pull back, she’s wide-eyed. Breathless.
The crowd hasn’t exactly stopped, but there are murmurs, a few whistles. Bonnie is clapping like it’s the best day of her life.
Maisie blushes hard. “You just kissed me in front of the whole town.”
“Damn right I did.”
