Page 34 of Wrecked on the Mountain (Stone River Mountain #2)

"Okay. I'll stop being stupid."

"Good. So…" she says, bumping my shoulder with hers. "Tell me more about this romantic getaway you're planning?"

I stand and offer her my hand, pulling her up from the bench.

"I think you're gonna love it…"

As we start walking toward Mom's flower shop, the afternoon sun warming our backs, I launch into the details I've been researching all morning.

It's time to convince my girlfriend she deserves to be spoiled.

By the time I tell her about our night together, the bell above the door chimes as we step into Petals & Stems. I'm immediately hit with the familiar cocktail of roses, eucalyptus, and the vanilla candles Mom burns behind the counter.

It's the smell of home.

Of childhood scraped knees getting bandaged while Mom worked on arrangements. Of hiding behind the flower coolers when girls from school came in with their mothers.

"Brooke!" Mom appears from behind a massive display of winter branches, her face lighting up with a huge smile. "What a lovely surprise!"

She wraps Brooke in one of those maternal hugs that adopts you on the spot, and I watch my girlfriend melt into it.

"Yeah… Hi to you too, Mom," I grunt, watching my mother practically abandon me.

"Oh, Jamie, you're here too."

Mom doesn't even glance in my direction. She waves a dismissive hand at me before turning back to Brooke with renewed enthusiasm.

"Are you getting enough to eat? Jamie's not being too much of a grump, is he?"

"Hey!" I protest. "I'm standing right here."

Mom ignores me as Dad emerges from the back room carrying a box of ceramic vases, his reading glasses perched on his nose.

"Jamie! How are you, son?"

"Oh, hey Dad ! At least someone is happy to see me!" I eyeball my mom and throw up my hands.

Mom finally turns her attention to me, rolling her eyes. "Oh, Jamie. You know you're always welcome, but you don't need coddling like Brookey here does."

Brooke chuckles quietly, glancing between us with a hint of amusement.

I scowl and silently mouth Brookey at her, only for her to shoot me a sharp look in return.

Dad sets down the box of vases and walks over to clap a hand on my shoulder. "It's always good to see you, son. Heard you two had quite the rescue yesterday. That helicopter business sounds dangerous."

"All in a day's work," I say, watching Brooke run her fingers along the petals of some white roses, completely absorbed in their texture.

"Well by the sounds of what Charlie was telling me last night at the Tavern, you did yourself proud. And Dr. Shields," Dad continues, "you settling in alright? Not missing the big city too much?"

"Please, call me Brooke," she says, turning from the flowers. "And honestly? I can't remember the last time I felt this happy."

Something warm and fierce expands in my chest.

The woman who saved lives in Chicago's biggest trauma center is standing in my mother's flower shop, touching roses like they're precious, and telling my parents she's never been happier.

Damn right she's happy. Happy with me.

"Actually, I'm glad you've dropped by Jamie, honey," Mom says in that tone that means she's about to meddle.

"Really? Could have fooled me, Mom."

She ignores me. "I was hoping you could help me reach something in the back room? You know how these old bones aren't what they used to be."

I give her a blank glare. My mother is fifty-eight and could probably outclimb half my rescue team, but I follow her anyway.

Behind the curtain that separates the shop from storage, she stops and turns to face me with an expression I haven't seen since I was sixteen and she caught me sneaking out to meet an old high school girlfriend.

"What do you need, Mom?"

Without a word, she spins on the spot and reaches into her apron pocket. She flashes me a look that makes me shiver, then produces a small velvet box.

My stomach drops to my boots.

The box is navy blue. Tiffany & Co. embossed in gold letters that might as well be branded on my retinas I stared at that fucking thing for so long.

"I know you swore you'd never want to see this again after Rebecca..."

The ring. Rebecca's engagement ring.

"Mom, what are you doing?" I spit out through a suddenly dry throat. "get that thing away from me. It's tainted."

She scoffs, rolls her eyes and grabs me by the wrist, placing the box in my hands. Fuck. It feels like holding a live grenade in the battlefield all over again.

"Mom, no—"

"That girl out there loves you, Jamie." She cuts me off, like this isn't a discussion. "Really loves you. And you love her."

"It's been three weeks, Mom. We're not—"

"Enough. Sometimes you just know, son. Your father proposed to me after two weeks, and look at us. Four children, a happy home and a wonderful life together. Believe me, love at first sight is a real thing."

I stare at the box, my thumb tracing the worn velvet.

Inside is a two-carat solitaire that cost me three months' military pay and a year of planning. The ring I picked out when I thought I understood what forever looked like.

Even if I was thinking about proposing—which I'm not, because three weeks is insane—there's no way in hell I'd give Brooke this ring.

This thing is cursed. Tainted with lies and broken promises and a woman who looked me in the eye and said Stone River would never be enough.

Brooke deserves something pure. Something that's only hers.

Not Rebecca's leftovers.

"No, Mom. It's different now. This feels too fast. Too soon."

"Then just keep it. Think about it." Mom's hand covers mine, warm and a hell of a lot steadier than mine right now. "But Jamie, don't let old fears make the decision for you. Let it go. Move on."

Through the curtain, I can hear Brooke laughing at something Dad said, that genuine laugh that makes her eyes crinkle. The sound anchors me and terrifies me in equal measure.

I pocket the ring, feeling its weight settle against my leg.

Mom gives me a wink and when we return to the main shop, Brooke is selecting white flowers from the cooler, her face soft with concentration.

"Everything okay?" she asks, noticing whatever expression is plastered across my face. "You look a little pale."

"Perfect," I lie, stuffing my hands in my pocket to try and hide the bulge the ring might be making. "I was just… helping Mom."

Mom appears with that smile that's been getting me in trouble since birth. "Jamie's always been my helpful one. He's always—"

"Yeah. Thanks. Bye, Mom!"

I grab Brooke by the arm and leave the shop with an armload of flowers, my mind racing between the spa resort, Piper's impending visit, and the ring now weighing heavy in my pocket.