Page 10

SIERRA—TWO MONTHS LATER

I smooth down the front of my dress for the hundredth time, pacing in front of the mirror.

The soft, silky fabric clings to my body just right, hugging every curve in a way that makes me feel a little bit braver than I actually am.

It’s my favorite dress—deep red, low at the back, with a neckline that walks the line between elegant and dangerous.

I wore it because… well, because he said he had a surprise for me.

And because a part of me, the part that’s too wrapped up in him to think clearly, is terrified he’s about to ask me something I’m not ready for.

Like to marry him.

God, it’s only two months. But Everest doesn’t do things halfway. When he wants something, he goes after it. And when he looks at me, it’s like he already knows I’m his.

Still, I can’t stop my heart from beating out of my chest as I step out of the car and walk toward the restaurant. It’s tucked into the side of the mountain, all warm lighting and rustic charm, like it was carved right out of the forest.

I see him before he sees me.

He’s standing by the entrance, wearing a black button-up shirt that strains slightly at the chest and sleeves, his beard trimmed, eyes scanning the road. When they land on me, they widen just slightly—and then a slow, proud smile spreads across his face like sunlight breaking through clouds.

“There you are,” he says, voice low and smooth.

I try to breathe. “Here I am.”

“You’re…” He steps forward, eyes sweeping over me with reverence. “Gorgeous.”

I feel heat rise to my cheeks. When he looks at me I feel like a treasure.

He holds the door open and guides me inside with a hand resting lightly on the small of my back. Every inch of me is buzzing with nerves, excitement, curiosity. He’s being so thoughtful, so gentle. It’s almost disarming.

He pulls my chair out for me, and I lower myself into it, my hands resting in my lap to keep them from trembling.

Everest lifts the wine glass to his lips and flashes me a grin. “See? Told you I’m not completely feral. I even remembered to pull your chair out.”

I laugh, a little more nervously than I mean to. “Look at you, evolving.”

He winks. “It’s all thanks to you. You’ve trained me well. Next thing you know, I’ll be quoting poetry and folding napkins into swans.”

I raise an eyebrow, amused. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

He grins and leans in, his eyes locked on mine. “Stick around. You might be surprised.”

There’s a playfulness in his voice that makes my chest warm. But beneath that, I can feel it—something more serious simmering just under the surface. Like this dinner, this night, means more than he’s letting on.

My smile falters slightly. The nerves come rushing back.

I fold my hands tightly in my lap, trying to keep them from trembling. “So…” I say carefully, my voice softer now, “what’s the surprise?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he reaches down beside his chair and lifts a large manila envelope onto the table.

My stomach twists.

It’s not what I expected. There’s no velvet box. No ring gleaming under the candlelight. And yet, somehow, the mystery of it makes my pulse race even faster.

He pushes the envelope toward me with both hands, his eyes dancing with excitement. “I’ve been working on this for days,” he says. “Go ahead. Open it.”

I stare at the envelope, trying to read something in his expression. He looks… proud. Hopeful. A little boyish in his eagerness, and that only makes it more endearing.

I reach for the flap, hands still trembling slightly.

What is this? I wonder. If it’s not a proposal, then why all the secrecy? Why the candlelit dinner and the nervous energy between us?

My fingers brush the seal. It feels thick—like there are multiple pages inside. Documents? Letters?

I glance up at him again, and he’s watching me like I’m about to open the universe.

My heart softens at the sight of him. Whatever this is, it matters to him. That alone is enough to push past the nerves.

I pull the flap open slowly, careful not to tear anything.

And inside, I see a stack of papers, neatly clipped together. The first page is a printed map of the mountain. His mountain.

My brows furrow, and I flip to the next page—a legal document. Deed information? Zoning changes?

“What is this?” I whisper, looking up at him.

I flip past the conservation documents, my fingers brushing across the next section in the envelope. Something thicker catches my eye—another set of pages, printed and stapled neatly. The title at the top reads "Transfer of Ownership." My heart stutters.

“Everest…” I glance up at him, suddenly breathless. “There’s more?”

He leans forward, eyes sparkling with excitement, like he’s been holding in this secret for far too long. “Yeah,” he says, nodding. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

I stare down at the page, trying to make sense of it.

It’s a deed—this one not for the mountain, but for a property downtown.

The address jumps out at me. I know it. It’s right on the edge of the square, the old corner lot with the towering oaks and cracked stone gate.

I’ve passed it a hundred times. The abandoned mansion.

“I’ve seen this place,” I murmur, fingertips grazing the page. “It’s been empty forever.”

Everest nods slowly, a knowing look in his eyes. “I’ve had my eye on it for years. The bones of it… they’re beautiful. It’s got history. Charm. But I never had a reason to live down there. That place was never meant for me.”

I blink, the weight of what he’s saying slowly sinking in. “Then why?—”

He reaches across the table and places his hand gently over mine, anchoring me to him. “Because it’s meant for you.”

My breath catches in my throat.

“I bought it for you,” he continues. “So you could chase your dream. You told me you wanted a bed and breakfast, just like you always talked about with your mom. I listened. And I saw that house… and I saw you there. Welcoming people, running the place your way. Building something of your own.”

Tears flood my eyes. I shake my head, overwhelmed. “You… you bought me a mansion?”

His thumb brushes across the back of my hand. “I bought you a means to live out your dream. You left your life for me. It was the least I could do.”

I can’t sit still another second. I push back my chair and rise to my feet, my pulse rushing in my ears. He starts to stand too, but I’m already moving around the table. The emotion chokes in my throat as I reach him and throw my arms around his neck, pressing myself against him.

He holds me like he’s been waiting to do it for days—no hesitation, no reserve. I bury my face in his chest, letting the tears fall freely.

No one has ever done something like this for me. No one has believed in me like this. Not just in what I could be to them , but in what I could become for myself . Well, not since my mom.

I pull back slightly to look into his face. His eyes are soft, warm, full of hope and certainty.

“This is everything,” I whisper, voice trembling. “You don’t even know… I’ve never had someone do something like this for me.”

“You have someone now,” he says, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “And I’m never going anywhere.”

The restaurant seems to fade away around us. All I can see is him. All I can feel is the way his arms fit perfectly around me, the way his heartbeat anchors mine.

And in this moment, wrapped in his warmth, I know it with perfect clarity: he’s the only man for me. Someone who sees me. Someone who believes in me. And he’s mine, too.