10. Chapter Nine
Chapter Nine
Molly
I'm glowing.
There's no other word for it. My skin is humming, my cheeks hurt from smiling, and my lips still tingle twelve hours after Beau Callahan kissed me under a sky full of stars.
I pour coffee into Sienna's mismatched mugs, one featuring a sassy cartoon cat for me and another declaring " World's Okayest Mom " for my sister. The rich aroma fills the kitchen, but I'm too busy replaying last night's kiss to truly appreciate it.
Beau's hands cupping my face. The initial hesitation melting into something urgent and consuming. The way his beard felt against my skin, which, by the way, is surprisingly soft.
I can't seem to forget how his body pressed against mine, all hard muscles and heat. Heat that's currently rushing to my cheeks as my mind wanders to what might have happened if that phone call hadn't interrupted us.
"And good morning to you," Sienna's voice breaks through my fantasy. She slides onto a stool at the kitchen island, eyebrows raised knowingly. "You got in pretty late last night. And with that smile, I'm guessing it wasn't just dinner..."
I focus intensely on stirring sugar into my coffee. "Well, as it turns out, Beau's good at more than just being grumpy."
"Oh, shut up," she yelps excitedly. "Do tell."
"We went on a rescue."
"A rescue?" Sienna's brow rises, clearly not buying it.
"Yeah. The family was very grateful," I add, still not meeting her eyes. "I told you, Beau's very clever."
"I bet he is," Sienna says, drawing out each word.
"It wasn't like that," I insist, even as my body temperature suggests otherwise.
"Then why are you blushing?"
Maisie bounces into the kitchen in mismatched socks and a shirt with a unicorn riding a skateboard.
"Aunt Molly! Did you and Beau catch any bad guys?"
I laugh, grateful for the interruption, but surprised at how much this small child 'overhears'.
"No bad guys, sweetie. Just a family whose car was stuck in the snow."
"Were they scared? Did they cry? Did Beau have to use his muscles to save them?"
I nearly choke on my coffee at that last question, because yes, Beau definitely used his muscles, and I definitely noticed.
Sienna hands Maisie a bowl of cereal. "Eat up, kiddo. School first, then soccer practice. Aunt Molly will be here when we get back." She glances at me with a smirk. "Unless she finds something—or someone—better to do."
I roll my eyes, but can't help smiling.
It feels good to be teased about a man instead of controlled by one.
After Sienna drops Maisie at school, the house falls quiet. I stand at the window, coffee mug cradled in my hands, looking out at Stone River Mountain.
It's beautiful in the morning light. Fresh snow blankets everything, glistening under a blue sky so clear it almost hurts to look at. Smoke rises from chimneys all the way down the street, and I can just make out tiny figures moving about as shops open for the day.
It hits me suddenly how content I feel. How at peace. When was the last time I felt this way?
Not with Riley, certainly.
He required constant vigilance—monitoring his moods, his needs, his expectations. He would have hated this place. It's too small, with not nearly enough people to impress.
But I love it.
I love the quiet. The space to breathe. The way Beau looked at me last night, like I was something precious and unexpected.
I think about his moment of vulnerability outside the Mountain Rescue station, how he admitted places like that were "still hard sometimes."
I can only imagine what he must have gone through in the military, what shadows still haunt him. Yet he pushed through it, and part of me wonders if he did it for me.
Shit.
I'm falling for him. Hard. Which is terrifying, considering who he is.
My ex-fiancé's brother.
Wait.
I literally know Beau's parents. I've eaten pot roast at their dining table, helped his mother wash dishes, listened to his father's stories about his own military service.
I know their house. The formal living room no one used, the study with all those medals displayed.
I know things about Beau too.
Riley talked about him constantly, though rarely kindly. "The golden boy." "Dad's favorite." "The perfect soldier." Always with that edge of bitterness that should have sent alarm bells ringing, but somehow, never did.
I remember now. Beau sent his mother a hand-carved jewelry box for her birthday once. Riley mocked it, but Mrs. Callahan cried when she opened it.
I know Beau. Not just the man I'm falling for, but pieces of who he was before.
God, what a mess.
What would Riley say if he knew I kissed him? The thought should bother me more than it does, but I realize I haven't really thought about Riley in days.
He's becoming a memory, fading like an old photograph.
I glance at the clock. I've literally got the whole day before me, open and full of possibility.
I could stay here, curl up with a book. Or I could venture into town. Maybe look at job possibilities. Perhaps even find a place of my own.
Move on and start to get on with my life. My life.
The thought gives me a little thrill.
I realize I don't have my phone and that creates an unexpected freedom. No texts to answer. No social media to check. No Riley trying to track my location with that app he insisted he installed 'to protect me'.
Though I do wish I could take a photo of the adorable snowman someone has wrapped a scarf around in the neighbor's yard.
Either way, I grab Sienna's spare coat and head out into the bright morning.
Main Street looks magical today. Quaint storefronts with snow-dusted awnings lining both sides of the street. Wrought- iron lampposts are wrapped with evergreen garlands despite Christmas being months past.
A man in a heavy plaid coat shovels the sidewalk in front of a bookstore I will visit later, while across the street, a woman arranges a window display of colorful handmade quilts.
But as I walk, I notice something odd.
People are looking at me.
Not just casual glances like we had in the tavern last night, but the kind of interested stares that suggest I'm somehow… fascinating .
Maybe they're just friendly? Stone River Mountain seems like the kind of place where everyone knows everyone.
But when I catch a middle-aged couple whispering and smiling in my direction, I start to wonder if I have something on my face.
The Bear Paw Café beckons me quicker than I had planned, and I push open the door, grateful for the prospect of hot chocolate and a moment to collect myself.
The café is bustling with morning customers, all of whom seem to notice my entrance at once.
A momentary hush falls over the room, just like it did last night, but then it's followed immediately by an eruption of too-casual conversation.
It's the kind of silence-then-noise that happens when you walk in on people who were just talking about you.
Betty spots me from behind the counter and her face lights up like I'm her long-lost daughter.
"Well if it isn't our local heroine!" she calls, waving me over. "I hear you and Beau make quite the rescue team."
My stomach drops as I remove my coat. "News travels fast around here..."
Betty's laugh is rich. "Honey, in Stone River, news doesn't travel… it teleports. Now, what can I get you? On the house, of course."
"Oh, you don't have to—"
"Nonsense. Anyone who gets Beau Callahan to do anything besides chop wood and scowl deserves a medal. Or at least a hot chocolate."
I surrender with a smile, settling onto a stool at the counter. Betty bustles away, and I try to ignore the fact that at least half the café is stealing glances at me.
What is it with these people?
The door chimes, and a woman with bold earrings and a leopard-print scarf enters, spotting me immediately.
"You must be Molly!" she exclaims, heading straight for me. "I'm Linda Watts, I own the General Store. It's just wonderful to finally meet you."
"Finally?" I repeat. "I've only been in town a few days."
"Oh, but we've heard so much!" Linda leans in conspiratorially. "So you and our mystery man, huh? About time someone melted that ice! Tell me, is he as intense about everything as he is about his woodworking?"
My cheeks burn. "I—we're not—"
Betty returns with what can only be described as a hot chocolate masterpiece. It's served in a massive mug topped with a cloud of homemade whipped cream, chocolate shavings, and a cinnamon stick. The scent alone is intoxicating.
"Don't overwhelm the poor girl, Linda," says an older woman approaching from a corner table.
She has sharp eyes and silver-streaked hair pulled back in a neat braid.
"I'm Doctor Sylvia Greene," she introduces herself, and I suddenly remember Beau mentioning her last night.
"Town physician. And I haven't seen Beau voluntarily speak to anyone in years, let alone take them on rescue missions. "
"It wasn't exactly planned," I manage, taking a sip of my hot chocolate to buy time. The rich, sweet flavor explodes on my tongue and Betty smiles at my reaction.
"Secret ingredient," she says with a wink. "Family recipe."
"It's amazing," I say honestly.
The door chimes again, and Sheriff Cooper enters, stamping snow from his boots. His eyes find me immediately, and he nods, heading over.
" Ah! Ms. Jennings," he greets me with a big handshake. "There you are. We all heard about your adventure last night."
"Um, how does everyone know about this?" I ask, a bit desperately. "It literally happened last night."
"That family you rescued couldn't stop talking about the 'romantic mountain couple' who saved them when they came into the station this morning," Sheriff Cooper explains with a barely suppressed smile.
"Came in to personally thank the entire town.
Said the big guy couldn't take his eyes off you, though. "
The policeman winks and I hide my face in my hot chocolate, but I can't help the warm flutter in my chest. Beau couldn't take his eyes off me?
"It's not that we're gossips," Linda says, though her tone suggests otherwise. "It's just that Beau's been... well, a bit of a lone wolf since he arrived. It's nice to see him connecting with someone."
If I could sink through the floor, I would.
But at the same time, there's something... nice about this. All of it.
Not the invasion of privacy, but the genuine happiness these people seem to feel for Beau. He's spent so long hiding away up at his cabin, but deep down, these people seem to really care for him.
I do worry about Beau. He seems intensely private, and I can't imagine he'd appreciate being the subject of town gossip, but maybe if he knew how they all felt, he would integrate a bit more.
I think that would be really good for him.
"I should probably get going," I say, finishing my hot chocolate. "Thank you for this. It was incredible."
"Any time, sweetheart," Betty says warmly. "And tell that man of yours he doesn't need to wait for emergencies to show his face in town."
That man of yours.
The phrase sends a little thrill through me that I don't bother to correct.
I step outside, feeling both flattered and overwhelmed. As I turn toward the bookstore, hoping to escape further interrogation, I spot them.
Etta and Mabel are heading directly toward me, knitting bags swinging from their arms, determined expressions on their faces. They look like two women on a mission, and I'm clearly the target.
I contemplate ducking into the nearest store, but they've already spotted me.
"Molly dear!" Mabel calls, waving enthusiastically. "We were just talking about you!"
"And Beau," Etta adds.
Shit . They sound like two gossiping teenagers in high school. This is not going to end well.
I resign myself to my fate. "Good morning, ladies."
"Do you like beanies, dear?" Etta asks, her eyes glinting behind her glasses. "What do you think about snowflakes or pine trees?"
"Don't be ridiculous, Etta," Mabel interjects. "She needs hearts, obviously."
Mabel winks and I open my mouth to respond when the roar of an engine cuts through the morning quiet. Before I can even blink, a massive black truck screeches to a halt at the curb, effectively cutting off my view of Etta and Mabel.
The passenger window rolls down to reveal Beau, looking surprisingly put-together. He looks good today. Too good.
He's wearing a button-down shirt under his usual flannel, and his beard is…
"Did you comb your beard?!"
"Get in," he says, cutting to the chase.
"Are you... kidnapping me?" I ask, fighting a smile.
"You wish," he jokes, actually winking at me. God he even does that in a sexy way. "I'm rescuing you. Now get in before they pin you down and measure your head."
Behind me, I hear Mabel's delighted gasp. "Look, Etta! He's coming to her rescue again! Isn't that romantic?"
Beau mutters a curse under his breath that only I can hear.
Without hesitation, I open the door and climb into the passenger seat, immediately enveloped in the scent I've been craving since last night. The truck feels both familiar and charged with new energy after last night's kiss.
"Hi," I say, suddenly shy.
"Hi yourself," he responds, his voice softer than usual.
As he pulls away from the curb, I catch Etta and Mabel in the side mirror, heads together, grinning like they've just witnessed the final scene of their favorite romance movie.
Maybe they have.
I don't know where we're going, and I don't care.
I'm in Beau Callahan's truck, he's looking at me like I'm something precious, and for the first time in longer than I can remember, I'm exactly where I want to be.