Page 28 of Wrecked on the Mountain (Stone River Mountain #2)

He nods once, apparently satisfied. "Good. This one should have had someone who can patch him up when he does something stupid years ago."

"Dad," Jamie groans.

"What? It's a practical consideration."

"I like him," I tell Jamie, which earns me an approving grunt from Gavin.

"Dinner!" Sandra announces, clapping her hands together. "Everyone to the table before the lamb gets cold!"

The dining room table is a work of art, a massive piece of reclaimed wood that could easily seat twelve. It's set with mismatched dishes that somehow look perfectly coordinated as candles flicker in mason jars in the center.

And before my eyes is a spread so impressive I'm practically drooling right now.

Jamie pulls out my chair, then settles beside me with his hand immediately finding my thigh under the table.

"So, Brooke," Chloe says as everyone begins passing dishes around. "What made you leave Chicago for our little mountain town?"

It's the question I've been dreading, because how do you explain that you were slowly dying inside without sounding dramatic?

"Career burnout," I say honestly, accepting a serving of the most perfect-looking mashed potatoes I've ever seen. "I had a rough few months and needed to remember why I became a doctor in the first place."

"Well, we're glad you landed here," Sandra says warmly. "Aren't we, Jamie?"

"Extremely glad," he agrees, squeezing my thigh.

"Just glad?" Zoe asks with a wicked grin. "Because from what we've heard, 'glad' might be understating things."

"Zoe," Jamie warns.

"What? I'm just saying, Knox mentioned you've been in a suspiciously good mood lately. And Chase said you called Brooke your—"

" Zoe ."

"—girlfriend, which is interesting because you haven't had one of those since—"

"Zoe Striker, eat your dinner."

Sandra's command cuts through the sibling warfare, but not before I catch Zoe's smug grin. I like her.

"He did call me his girlfriend," I admit, which makes Chloe choke on her wine.

"Did he now?" Maya asks, dropping her fork, clearly delighted.

"Accidentally," Jamie mutters, but his ears are turning red again.

"I thought it was sweet," I continue, enjoying his mortification. "Very smooth. Really swept me off my feet."

"Oh, boy," Gavin says from the head of the table. "She's got your number, son."

The conversation flows easily from there. The food is incredible, every bite better than the last, and I find myself relaxing in a way I haven't in years.

This is what family dinners are supposed to feel like. Chaos and laughter and love served alongside perfectly seasoned lamb.

"So what's Chicago like?" one of the twins asks around a mouthful of potatoes.

"Loud," I reply. "And crowded. And everyone's always in a hurry to get somewhere else."

"Do you miss it?" the other twin asks.

"Not really," I admit. "I thought I would, but... I like it here. I like the pace. The people. The way everyone knows everyone."

"The way everyone knows everyone's business, you mean," Chloe corrects with a laugh.

"That too," I grin. "It's actually kind of nice, having people care enough to be nosy."

"Just wait until you've been here long enough for Etta and Mabel to start planning your wedding," Maya warns. "Those two have opinions about everything."

"Maya," Sandra scolds, but she's smiling.

"What? I'm just preparing her. Remember what they did to poor Sean? Had our entire wedding planned before he even proposed."

"It was a beautiful wedding," Zoe points out.

"Because they have excellent taste. But still."

Under the table, Jamie's thumb strokes across my thigh, and when I glance at him, there's something soft and hopeful in his expression that makes my heart stutter.

"More wine?" he asks quietly, and I nod, needing something to do with my hands.

As he refills my glass, his fingers brush mine, and the simple contact sends electricity shooting up my arm. Even surrounded by his family, even in the middle of dinner conversation, my body responds to him like he's the only person in the room.

"Mrs. Striker, you'll have to give me your recipe for the lamb. It's incredible."

"Mom's secret is the garlic paste she rubs under the skin," Maya explains. "She guards that recipe like state secrets."

"But I'll share it with you," Sandra says, patting my hand. "Family recipe."

She winks at me and suddenly I'm fighting back tears for reasons I can't even name.

"Thank you," I manage, voice thick.

After dinner, while the women clear the table and argue good-naturedly about who's doing dishes, Jamie pulls me onto the back porch with two mugs of coffee and a huge slice of his mother's famous apple pie.

"Needed some air?" he asks, settling beside me on the porch swing.

"Needed you," I admit, curling into his side. "Your family is amazing. Thank you for bringing me here."

"They like you." He presses a kiss to my temple and I melt further into his warm, strong arms.

"And how do you feel about that?"

"Terrified," he says honestly. "Because it means they think you're staying."

I tilt my head to look at him. "And what do you think?"

"I think," he says carefully, "that I want you to stay more than I've ever wanted anything. But I also know you have a life in Chicago. A career. Things I can't compete with."

The vulnerability in his voice breaks something open in my chest.

"Jamie," I say softly, reaching up to cup his face. "What if I told you I don't want you to compete with Chicago? What if I told you that being here, with you, whether it's for three months or three years, feels more like home than anywhere I've ever lived?"

His eyes search mine, like he's looking for cracks in my conviction. "Brooke..."

"Yeah?"

"Let's get out of here. That dress has been driving me nuts all night."