Page 37 of Trusting the Grumpy Mountain Man
"What if I don't want to leave?" Her question hangs between us, full of possibility.
"What about your life in Sacramento?"
"I packed what matters." She gestures toward her Prius. "The rest is just stuff."
I reach for her then, unable to maintain distance any longer. She comes into my arms like she belongs there, her body fitting perfectly against mine.
"I love you, Riley Chaffeur." The words I've been holding back finally break free. "I've loved you since you showed up with your tablet and regulations and refused to back down."
"I love you too." She rises on tiptoes, her face tilted toward mine. "Even when you were being impossibly stubborn and growling at me like some grumpy bear."
I laugh against her lips before capturing them with mine. The kiss is everything we've left unsaid. Apology. Forgiveness. Promise. When we finally break apart, we're both breathing hard.
"Wait." Reality sets in. "You said you quit. What about the program?"
Her smile turns mischievous. "I quit after I went to the director and presented my case. After she overruled Margaret and approved the program's continuation."
"What?" I can hardly process her words.
"Peak Survival has been granted a one-year provisional approval, with quarterly reviews." She sounds like she's reciting the best news of her life. "And they're looking into additional funding for programs with your success rate. Turns out the department has grants specifically for innovative rehabilitation approaches. Margaret was sitting on them."
"So the program's not closing?" I struggle to keep up with this rapid reversal of fortune.
"Not only is it not closing, it may be becoming a model program." She beams with pride. "The director wants to see it herself next month."
Relief crashes through me so powerfully my knees nearly buckle. "The kids get to stay?"
"They get to stay." She nods. "And graduate properly from the program you designed."
I pull her to me again, lifting her off her feet in a bear hug that makes her laugh. When I set her down, a thought occurs to me.
"What will you do now?"
"Well." She looks up at me through her lashes. "I thought maybe Peak Survival could use someone to handle compliance issues. Someone who knows the regulations but also understands when they need to be adapted."
"Are you offering to work for me?" I can't help the grin spreading across my face.
"With you," she corrects. "As a partner. If you'll have me."
"If I'll have you?" I shake my head in wonder. "Riley Chaffeur, I want you in every way possible. As my partner in the program. As my partner in life. Everything."
"Everything sounds perfect." She rises on tiptoes again to press her lips to mine.
We stand there on the side of the highway, halfway between her world and mine, creating something new together. Something neither of us expected when she first arrived at Peak Survival with her tablet and regulations.
"We should probably get off this highway," I murmur against her hair. "Before we cause an accident."
"A random car left at the side of the highway might raise some eyebrows," she agrees.
"Follow me home?" I ask, the question carrying more weight than just the drive.
Her smile is radiant. "I think I already have."
We return to our vehicles, but this time I know it's not a goodbye. It's just the beginning of a journey we're taking together. As her Prius pulls in behind Mason's truck, I catch her eyes in my rearview mirror.
Some people search their whole lives for purpose, for belonging, for home. I found mine when a by-the-book social worker from Sacramento showed up to evaluate my program and ended up evaluating my heart instead.
And somehow, against all odds, we both passed inspection.
