18. Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Seventeen
Molly
If someone had told me a week ago that I'd be standing in my sister's backyard, watching my mountain god boyfriend build a treehouse while being critiqued by a six-year-old construction supervisor, I would have suggested they seek professional help.
And yet, here I am, pretending to arrange potato salad while actually ogling Beau's ass as he bends over to grab another piece of lumber.
Sweet Jesus, that man fills out a pair of jeans.
"Molly," Sienna hisses from beside me, where she's arranging what can only be described as a dessert spread worthy of a magazine shoot. "Stop drooling over your boyfriend and help me with the appetizers."
"I'm not drooling," I protest, reluctantly tearing my eyes away from the magnificent view. "I'm... appreciating."
"You're practically panting."
"Can you blame me?" I gesture toward Beau, who's currently lifting a massive plank like it weighs nothing.
His biceps strain against his flannel shirt and I'm taken back to the 'moment' we shared this morning before we got here.
"Look at him. That's not a man, that's a work of art with a tool belt. "
Sienna follows my gaze and sighs. "Okay, fair point. But David's pretty easy on the eyes too, don't you think? Both our guys looks like they were carved by horny angels."
"Right?" I grin, picking up a tray of bruschetta that looks almost too pretty to eat. "And he's mine ?! I still can't believe it sometimes."
The backyard has been transformed into something straight out of a lifestyle show on television.
David's manning the grill, all gleaming stainless steel and professional-grade everything. Picnic tables are covered in red and white tablecloths, laden with enough food to feed a small army, and string lights are already twinkling even though it's barely afternoon.
It's pure small town charm wrapped in family, and I'm living for every second of it.
"BEAU!" Maisie's voice carries across the yard with the authority of a tiny dictator. "Where's the pink wood? And where's the glitter!"
I watch as Beau stops what he's doing and crouches down to Maisie's level, his expression serious as she explains something that involves a lot of dramatic hand gestures and what appears to be stern architectural criticism coming from a six-year-old.
Beau nods solemnly at each of Maisie's demands, his massive frame dwarfing her tiny one as she waves a crayon blueprint in his face.
When she points emphatically at a spot where unicorn stickers clearly belong, he doesn't even flinch. He just pulls out a notepad and jots it down like he's receiving military coordinates.
The man who once cleared buildings in Afghanistan is now taking detailed notes on glitter placement and fairy door specifications.
God, my ovaries.
"You know, Molly," David calls over from the grill, where he's flipping the most incredible smelling burgers in the history of mankind, "I don't think I've ever seen Beau actually smile this much."
I look over at my brother-in-law, who arrived home this morning to Sienna's surprise BBQ welcome.
After three weeks away for work, David looks relaxed and happy to be back with his girls.
He's got that same easy confidence that drew Sienna to him years ago, and watching them together today, the way they keep stealing glances and finding excuses to touch each other, makes my heart ache with how much I want what they have.
Even if I could do without overhearing their "not so subtle" phone conversations. There are just some things a sister doesn't need to know about her brother-in-law's... creative ideas.
But he's right.
Even from here, I can see the way Beau's mouth quirks up at the corners as Maisie continues her animated explanation. He's relaxed in a way I've never seen before, like being around people doesn't feel like a threat anymore.
"Molly's good for him," Sienna says, bumping my shoulder. "Really good."
Before I can respond, David walks over, beer in hand, and extends it toward Beau. I watch from across the yard as my brother-in-law approaches the construction zone with careful steps.
"You look like you could use this," I see him say, though his words start to get lost in the distance.
Beau straightens, wiping his hands on his jeans before accepting the drink. I'm trying to focus on their interaction when suddenly I'm surrounded by what feels like half of Stone River Mountain arriving through the side gate all at once.
"Molly!" Linda from the general store smiles at me. "I've been following you on Instagram. That Stone River hashtag is doing our town wonders, as are your beautiful posts!"
"Oh, thanks," I say, accepting the salad bowl she offers.
"Yes. That breakfast spread you made looked absolutely divine!"
"Oh, thank you," I manage while trying to peek around her at Beau and David.
"Is it true you're staying in town?" asks another voice, and suddenly there's a small crowd of people introducing themselves, shaking my hand, welcoming me like I'm already family.
"Molly, where did I put the extra napkins?
" Sienna's voice cuts through the chatter from behind me, hostess panic mode in full flow now the yard is filling up.
"And did you see if Betty brought the ice?
We're going to run out of everything and David's going to think I can't plan a simple party and—"
"Sienna, breathe," I laugh, still trying to catch glimpses of the guys through the crowd of new arrivals. "Everything looks perfect."
"Nothing's perfect! The potato salad needs more seasoning and I forgot to put out the good serving spoons and—"
A burst of laughter from the construction zone draws my attention away from my sister's complete breakdown.
I crane my neck to see over the cluster of people still greeting each other and the men slapping each other on the back.
Through a gap in the crowd, I catch sight of Maisie gesticulating wildly while Beau and David continue to listen with serious expressions.
"There is a disco ball," I hear Maisie announce loudly enough to carry across the yard. "And maybe a hot tub!"
David's laughter is clear across the yard. "A hot tub? In a tree?"
"Beau has one!" Maisie declares with the authority of someone who knows important things in life all too soon. "Aunt Molly told me it's amazing !"
I choke on my drink as every adult within earshot—which is apparently everyone in their entire damn town—suddenly finds me very interesting to look at.
Oh God. She did not just announce that to the entire party.
The crowd around me goes suspiciously quiet, and I feel heat flood my cheeks.
"Maybe we start with the basic structure first," I hear Beau say diplomatically, and even from here I can see the flush creeping up his neck.
The crowd around starts chattering again, thankfully moving on from Maisie's hot tub revelation, and somewhere behind me, Sienna continues her rapid-fire party logistics.
"Did you check the grill temperature? David says it needs to be exactly—"
I follow Sienna's panicked instructions and watch as David says something that makes Beau's entire posture change.
From where I stand over the table of food, I can see his jaw tighten, his free hand curl into a fist, and there's something protective… almost dangerous in his stance.
Then both men turn to look across the yard, and I realize they're looking at me. Not just looking— studying . Like I'm some kind of complicated blueprint they're trying to decode.
"Oh God. Sienna, they're talking about me," I whisper, grabbing her arm hard enough to make her drop a deviled egg.
"Well, stop staring back at them," Sienna hisses, rescuing the fallen appetizer. "Act natural."
"Natural?"
I grab a paper plate and start arranging cookies with manic precision.
"And you could try breathing," Sienna suggests helpfully, watching me create what might be the world's most architecturally ambitious cookie display. "That's usually a good start."
David nods approvingly at whatever Beau says, and then I see Beau's expression soften completely. His eyes find mine through the crowd, and even at this distance, the tenderness on his face makes my breath catch.
His lips move, and I focus intently, trying to read what he's saying.
"Yeah, she's perfect."
At least, I'm pretty sure that's what he says. But the way he's looking at me from across the yard makes my knees weak regardless of what he just said.
Damn it, now I really am going to cry.
"Molly! Focus!" Sienna snaps her fingers in front of my face. "I asked you three times to forget the damn cookies!"
"Sorry," I breathe, reluctantly tearing my gaze away from Beau.
Within an hour, the backyard is buzzing, and I'm discovering that small-town BBQs are apparently competitive sports when it comes to who can bring the most impressive dish.
Betty from the café has arrived with a dessert spread that has won awards at local shows. Pies, cookies, chocolatey goodness that I can't even begin to describe.
She immediately gravitates toward me with the kind of knowing smile that suggests she's been waiting for this moment.
"Well, look at you," she beams, pulling me into a hug that smells like vanilla and flour. "And look at him. Actually talking to people. It's a miracle."
She's right.
Beau's in the middle of what can only be described as an impromptu building consultation, with various rugged-looking men with beards, muscles and ripped shirts all offering advice, tools, and what sounds like increasingly ridiculous suggestions for treehouse modifications.
"Is that normal?" I ask, watching a guy who looks like he could wrestle bears casually hand Beau a level.
"Honey, we've been waiting three years for that man to let us help him with anything. This is Christmas morning for half the men in this town."
As if to prove her point, another mountain man approaches the group carrying what appears to be an industrial-grade drill.
"Seriously," I mutter to myself. "Does this town have a monopoly on ridiculously attractive men?"