Page 113 of Grumpy on the Mountain

But all I see is her. All I want is her.

"Take me home," I whisper against her forehead.

"We're already there," she whispers back.

And as we walk toward the rescue truck through the falling snow, past the flashing lights and the smoky remains of what used to be her car, I realize she's right.

Home isn't a place. It's not even the cabin I built to escape my past.

Home is love.

Home is Molly.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Molly

The Bear Paw Café smells exactly the same as it did six weeks ago when I stumbled through that door.

Only now… everything has changed.

I arrived a broken woman with a dead car, inappropriate footwear, and absolutely no idea what I was going to do with the rest of my life. I was runningfromsomething, desperate and lost and carrying more emotional baggage than my overpriced suitcase could hold.

Now I'm sitting in the same corner booth where Betty first offered me cherry pie and unsolicited life advice, but instead of dripping melted snow and existential dread, I'm radiating...happiness.

Pure, uncomplicated, pinch-me-I-must-be-dreaming happiness.

"And that should be the last of it," I murmur, signing my name with a flourish on the final document that officially closes thebook on Riley Callahan's pathetic attempt to legally manipulate me back into his life.

The pen in my hand is one of those gorgeous rose gold ones from my desk at Mountain Rescue. The job that gave me purpose, the place that gave me community, the work that proves every single day that I'm capable of so much more than I ever believed possible.

Take that, you controlling asshole.

His lawsuit was thrown out faster than week-old fish, his harassment charges are proceeding through the courts, and his lawyers have officially advised him that any further contact with me or anyone in Stone River Mountain will result in a restraining order that spans three states.

The man who once made me believe I was helpless is now legally required to stay the hell away from me.

AndGod, that feels good.

"All finished, sweetie?" Betty appears beside my table with a smile. "You look like a woman who just signed away her troubles."

I grin and cap my pen. "Officially closing the door on my past, Betty."

"Well, in that case..." Betty disappears toward the kitchen, then reappears with a plate that makes my jaw drop. "Ta-da!"

It's a slice of chocolate cake so enormous she had to use the large dinner plates. Three layers of the most decadent chocolate creation known to humanity, covered in glossy ganache and decorated with—

"Oh my God, Betty!"

My hands goes to my mouth, because covering the top of the cake isevery single one of my favorite chocolates. Ferrero Rocher perched like golden crowns. Raspberry truffles arranged in perfect little rows. Those tiny dark chocolate sea salt caramels that I'm completely obsessed with.

"Betty," I breathe, staring at this masterpiece. "This is... this is incredible."

The first bite makes me actually moan out loud. It's rich and decadent and perfectly sweet, with layers of flavor that seem to unfold on my tongue like a chocolate symphony.

"Holy shit, Betty. This is—"

"Language," she chides automatically, but she's grinning. "Though I'll take that as a compliment."