Page 3 of Soul of the Mountain (Curves in Hope Mountain #2)

Sullivan gives her a bright smile and sets down the boxes of goodies on the nearest table.

She hugs him in the kind of comforting embrace I’ve only ever seen from motherly figures on TV.

I wonder what it feels like to be wrapped up in the arms of someone who is genuinely glad you’re around and happy to see you.

“Sorry for the delay,” he says before stepping back and opening one of the bakery boxes. “I’d never skip out on a Sunday morning breakfast delivery, you know that, Deidra.”

“Ladies! Sullivan brought us the goods!” she calls out.

Moments later, several older ladies with an assortment of walkers and wheelchairs assemble in the kitchen.

“My gran lived here after my grandpa passed,” Sullivan tells me. “She complained about the food so much, I finally struck a deal with her that if she ate her meals, I’d bring donuts once a week. Gran always knew how to negotiate, I’ll give her that.”

A wistful smile curls up one side of his mouth as he stares into the distance.

His brown eyes grow soft at the memory of his family.

Sullivan really loved his grandparents, that much I can see.

So much, it still hurts when he thinks about them.

I get it. Fuck, do I get it. That’s exactly why I don’t want to get too close.

It can’t hurt if you don’t feel anything at all.

“She passed away in her sleep five years ago,” Sullivan continues. “She loved her friends here and made me promise to keep visiting even when she’s gone.”

“And we held him to it!” a woman with a cane says as she loads up a plate with two blueberry scones and a bran muffin.

A hand rests on my shoulder, and I glance at Deidra, who is standing right next to me.

“I didn’t get a chance to greet you properly,” she says.

I furrow my brow, not sure what she means. The next second, she has me wrapped up in her arms. I don’t react at first, my limbs and spine stiff from the shock.

“It’s just a hug, honey. I think you need one, don’t you?”

I’m speechless, and even more surprisingly, I melt into her embrace.

The longer this woman hugs me, the closer I am to bursting into tears.

I have no idea what’s wrong or why I have the sudden urge to curl up in her lap and have her read me bedtime stories like the grandma I never had but always wanted.

“That’s it,” she coos. “Not so bad, right? Hugs are good for the soul. Good for the nervous system, too. Helps with anxiety.”

I nod my head from where it’s resting on her shoulder. It really does help.

Wait. What am I doing? Hugging a stranger? Who am I? What is this town doing to me? It’s all too much; Sullivan being nice, Deidra hugging me, this entire wholesome Sunday morning I shouldn’t be privy to.

I pull away from the kind older woman with blue hair and polka-dot glasses, and grip my coffee cup, holding it out in front of me once again to block any more physical touch.

“Excuse me, I have to go make a call,” I say in a rush.

“I’ll just be outside,” I tell Sullivan, not bothering to look at him before hightailing it out of the room.

Once outside, I let out a shaky breath and lean against a nearby tree.

What the hell was that? Why do I feel my throat closing and tears stinging my eyes?

I’m just tired. That has to be it. I had a shit night of sleep, thanks to being terrified of the storm, and now I’m cranky and ready to go home.

Which, hopefully, I’ll be able to do as soon as Sullivan drops me off at Grady’s.

I take my phone out of my purse and type out a quick email to my boss, Cindy.

She was expecting my co-worker, Sadie, and me back in the office tomorrow.

I’m still not sure what Sadie’s plan is now that she’s all wrapped up with her own mountain man, but I’m going to need an extra day of recovery from my time in Hope Mountain.

With my boss updated on my whereabouts, I close my eyes and breathe in the cool autumn breeze. I focus on the way the wind feels on my cheeks and the tip of my nose. Soon, I’ll be back in my apartment with my stuff, my routines, and my solitude. That’s all I really want.

Is it? Yes. I think. I mean, it’s not like I could ever have this kind of life with the good-natured, hot-as-hell mountain man by my side as we visit local shops and make pastry deliveries to the elderly.

“You okay?” Sullivan asks from behind me.

I jump slightly, not realizing he had joined me outside.“Of course,” I assure him. “I’m always okay.”

Sullivan’s brows knit together, and he gives me a skeptical look. Thankfully, he doesn’t call me out on it, even if he knows I’m lying.

“Ready to get your car back?” he asks.

I nod and follow him to his truck. As we make our way further into town, I can’t help but wonder what life would be like if I stayed right here in Hope Mountain.

“This is your stop,” he announces after only a few minutes.

I suddenly don’t want him to leave me. I got a taste of what a real family looks like, and now I’m more aware than ever of how lonely I am.

I’m not lonely , I correct myself. I’m independent.

“Want me to park and go in with you?” Sullivan asks.

“Nope. I’m fine. You’ve done your good deed for the day. Thank you for everything.” My tone is professional and a bit icy, but it’s for both of our benefits. He won’t miss me, not that he ever would, and I won’t get attached to him. Everything is as it should be.

Then why is it so hard for me to climb out of his truck? Why does each step toward my car feel like wading through sand?

“Gabby,” he calls out through the open window. “Be safe, yeah?”

I tilt my head and furrow my brow. I don’t get it.

Why would he care about my safety one way or the other?

I nod as he pulls away from the curb. I can’t help but feel the tiniest twinge of loss deep in my bones at the thought of never seeing him again.

That’s how I know it’s time to get the hell out of Dodge.