Page 19 of Grumpy on the Mountain

Beau will be impressed.

There are multiple levels now, a rope bridge, what appears to be a slide—an excellent addition I hadn't thought of yet!

"This is the main house," Maisie explains, pointing to the largest rectangle. "And this is the secret escape room, and this is where I'll keep my treasure, and this—" She points to a structure that looks suspiciously like a hot tub. "This is the relaxation zone."

"The relaxation zone?"

"Beau says everyone needs a place to relax. Did you know he has a hot tub on his deck?"

My coffee cup freezes halfway to my lips.

Beau has a hot tub.

And now I'm picturing him in it. All those muscles, steam rising around his broad shoulders, his head tilted back against the edge as he looks up at the night sky...

"Do you think he'd like pink flowers in the treehouse?" Maisie continues, oblivious to the fact that she's just sent my brain spiraling into very inappropriate territory. "Or do boys not like pink? Whatdoboys like, anyway?"

I open my mouth to answer, but no sound comes out.

"Is Beau married?" Maisie asks, cocking her head like a curious puppy.

"I—no, I don't think so," I manage.

"Does he have a girlfriend?"

"I wouldn't know."

"Why not? He's really strong! And he smells good."

He does smell good. He smells incredible. He smells like—

"He's also really tall," Maisie continues. "Like, REALLY tall. Taller than Daddy. Do you think tall people need bigger beds, Aunt Molly? I bet Beau has a huge bed. Do you think it's comfortable? Do you think—"

"Maisie, honey," I interrupt before she can continue down this dangerous path. "Maybe we should focus on the treehouse plans and not the man promising to build it for you?"

But the damage is done.

Because now I'm thinking about Beau's bed. How big it might be. How he'd look in it. Naked.

I shake my head and startle myself to focus so hard that my fork flies out of my hand, launching the bite of pancake I was attempting to eat in a perfect arc across the kitchen.

It lands with a wetsplaton the floor.

"Oh my God," I mutter, jumping up to clean it up, but I move too fast and somehow manage to knock over the syrup dispenser in the process. Sticky maple mess cascades across the counter and somehow… directly into my hair!

"Shit. I gotta go, babe." Sienna laughs, finally hanging up the phone. "Molly! What in the world—"

"Mom said shit!" Maisie announces proudly.

"I'm fine!" I insist, frantically grabbing paper towels while syrup drips down the side of my face. "Totally fine! Just clumsy! Very, very clumsy!"

Maisie is staring at me like I've lost my mind. "Are you sick? Your face is all red and weird."

"I'm not sick," I say, still dabbing at the syrup. "I'm just... adjusting to the oxygen levels up here. You know… the mountain air."

Sienna's eyebrows climb toward her hairline. "Mountain air.Right..."

She hands me a damp cloth and watches with obvious amusement as I attempt to de-syrup myself.