Page 83 of Grumpy on the Mountain

"Beau, that's sweet, but you can't chauffeur me around forever. What if you have work? Or want to do something else?"

"There's nothing else I'd rather do than make sure you get where you need to go safely." His gray eyes are completelyserious and I could almost drop my fork. "I don't mind, Molly. Iwantto do it."

The conviction in his voice makes something flutter in my chest.

Because this isn't about control, not for Beau. It's about care. About him wanting to take care of me in every way possible.

"Okay," I say softly. "But only for now."

His shoulders relax like he'd been braced for an argument. "Alright. For now."

"But I'm buying you gas money."

"Like hell you are."

"Beau—"

"Molly." He reaches across the table to capture my hand. "Let me do this. Please."

The quiet plea in his voice makes me melt completely. "Okay. But at least let me cook breakfast next time."

"Deal," he says, bringing my hand to his lips to press a soft kiss to my knuckles. "Though I should probably warn you, the standards are pretty high now."

I snort. "Your standards? You made me pancakes and fresh orange juice. How am I supposed to compete with that?"

"Easy," he says with a grin that makes my toes curl. "Just be you."

***

The Mountain Rescue headquarters are buzzing with energy from the moment I step inside. There's endless radio chatter and ringing phones, and everywhere you go there is this kind of organized chaos that speaks of life-or-death importance.

Bang on nine o'clock, Jamie meets us at the entrance of the building, looking ridiculously put-together for this early in the morning.

"Morning," Jamie grins, shaking Beau's hand before turning to me. "Ready for the grand tour?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," I laugh, though my stomach has been doing nervous flips the entire drive down.

Beau's hand finds the small of my back, steady and reassuring.

"You'll be great," he whispers in my ear, then says louder, "Pick you up for lunch?"

"You don't have to—"

"Twelve-thirty," he says, like it's already decided. "I'll bring food."

Jamie raises an eyebrow at this exchange but doesn't comment. "Alright, let's get started."

The next two hours pass in a blur of information that doesn't help the feeling of in-over-my-head that's been consuming me ever since I stepped inside the building.

Jamie shows me everything—the communication systems, the database for tracking rescue operations, the coordination protocols with other agencies.

He introduces me to the team members I didn't meet at the BBQ yesterday, all of whom welcome me with the kind of genuine warmth that makes me feel instantly included.

"And this," Jamie says with obvious pride as we move into a smaller, more standard office looking area. "Is your workspace."

He leads me to a desk tucked into a corner with windows overlooking the mountains, and I have to bite back a gasp.

Someone has clearly put thought into making this space perfect.