Page 27 of Enticed by the Mountain Man
“Everything you hoped for?” he murmurs.
“More.”
We sway together, the rest of the world a blur. His breath brushes my ear when he whispers, “Mrs. Hawthorne.”
I smile against his chest. “Say it again.”
“Mrs. Hawthorne.”
He says it like a promise, like something holy.
I tilt my head back to look at him. “You happy?”
He nods, eyes soft. “Happiest I’ve ever been.”
I rest my forehead against his. The music fades into the hum of conversation, the crackle of the fire, the laughter of friends. The stars blink on one by one over Pine Hollow.
The town is alive with love, every heart beating in rhythm with its own story. And ours has only just begun.
I hold Graham’s hand tighter, feeling his thumb trace the band on my finger, and smile up at him.
“I can’t wait to spend forever with you,” I whisper.
He kisses me again, gentle and certain. “Forever’s already started, sunshine.”
And under the glow of the lights, surrounded by everyone who’s ever meant anything to us, I know he’s right.
Epilogue - Five Years Later
Graham
The workshop smells like cedar and sawdust and the faint trace of Maeve’s vanilla lotion.
I sand down the edge of a tabletop, brush off the fine dust, and run my hand along the grain. Smooth, clean, ready for polish. Another custom order from out of town. Lately, that’s been happening more and more. Folks drive hours to pick up one of my pieces.
I never planned for it to turn into a big business. Hell, I just liked making things. Then Maeve started helping me list projects online, take pictures in the right kind of light, and answer messages with that mix of charm and wit that makes people fall in love with her even through a screen.
Now it’s a full-blown company,Hawthorne Custom Made Furnishings.
I glance toward the open door where she’s sitting on the porch steps, laptop balanced on her knees, sunlight catching in her hair. She’s talking to someone on a video call, probably a client,but the way she smiles when she listens still makes something in my chest twist tight.
She looks up and catches me watching. “You’re staring again.”
“Can’t help it.”
She laughs, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You say that like it’s a medical condition.”
“Pretty sure it is.”
She shakes her head, but I can see the smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
Five years. That’s how long it’s been since the day she walked down that aisle in Pine Hollow, sunlight spilling through the trees, Dottie crying in the front row, Connor pretending not to tear up. Five years of quiet mornings, long nights, laughter, and love.
And not once have I woken up wishing for anything else.
After I finish sanding, I join her on the porch. She closes her laptop and leans against my shoulder, her legs stretched out in front of her.
“You know,” she says, “I just got another order from that boutique in Asheville.”
