27. Chapter Twenty-Six #2
The best part is the enormous, ridiculously fluffy pompoms on top. Pompoms that look like they belong on a children's winter hat, not serious rescue gear.
"Oh my God," I gasp, reaching for the beanies. Beau's got his head in his hands, grunting to himself. "These are perfect ."
"We made them special," Mabel beams. "Just in case Beau finally came to his senses and joined the team."
I hold up the larger of the two beanies—clearly meant for Beau's big boof—and examine the craftsmanship. It's actually beautifully made, with expert stitches and official-looking embroidery.
Except for that massive, fluffy pompom that's roughly the size of a softball.
"Put it on," I demand, turning to Beau with the beanie in my hands.
"Absolutely not," he says immediately, holding his hands up.
"Come on! It's official rescue gear!"
"That pompom is not regulation anything ."
"It's adorable!" I protest. "And it matches mine!"
I pull on my own beanie, which has an equally ridiculous pompom but somehow looks cute instead of absurd on my head.
"Get that fucking thing—sorry, Mais." He looks sideways at the child who's grinning with amusement. "Molly, stop! I survived three tours in Afghanistan for the shot at freedom. I'm not wearing a hat with a fuzzy ball on it!"
"Please?" I bat my eyelashes at him. "For me?"
"No."
"Pretty please?"
"No."
"Pretty please with chocolate cake on top?" I gesture toward Betty's magnificent creation.
"Still no."
I switch tactics, leaning closer and lowering my voice to that breathy tone that always makes his pupils dilate.
"If you put it on… I'll make it worth your while later."
Bingo . Now I can see his resolve wavering.
"Fine," he growls. "But if anyone takes pictures—"
"Too late," Sienna announces cheerfully, holding up her phone as I triumphantly place the beanie on Beau's head, carefully arranging it so the pompom sits at just the right angle. "This is totally going on Instagram."
"Like hell it is!" Beau reaches for her phone, but Sienna jumps up and bolts to the bathroom, laughing the entire way. "Christ. Why do I do it?"
The result is... magnificent.
Six-foot-four of pure masculine intimidation, topped with the most adorable fluffy winter hat in existence. It should look ridiculous. It should completely undermine his tough-guy image.
Instead, it's the most endearing thing I've ever seen in my life.
"Oh my God," I breathe, pressing my hands to my heart. "You look so cute I might actually die."
"I look like an idiot," he mutters.
"You look like my idiot," I correct, going up on my toes to press a kiss to his now-pompom-adorned head. "My adorable, sexy, heroic idiot who just took a job that's going to save lives and make a difference and—"
"Okay, okay," he interrupts, but he's smiling now. "Point made."
Around us, the café has erupted into gentle applause and appreciative murmurs. Betty's wiping away what might be tears, Etta and Mabel are looking smugly satisfied with their handiwork, and even Frank has looked up from his crossword to nod approvingly.
And again, it sinks in. This is what family looks like. Not just Sienna and Maisie, but this entire ridiculous, wonderful, meddling community that's decided we belong to them.
"So," I say, settling back into the booth beside Beau, "what happens now? When do you start? Are we going to have to coordinate schedules? Because I have thoughts about seeing you in action every day."
"Easy there, tiger," Beau says, his hand finding mine under the table. "Jamie wants me to start next week. Training first, then gradual integration with the team."
"That's perfect! I can show you all the systems, introduce you to the filing protocols, help you set up your workspace—"
"Actually," Beau interrupts, "I think Jamie's got that covered. He mentioned something about having the new girl show me the ropes."
I blink. "New girl? What new girl?"
"Apparently they hired someone else this week. Some hotshot coordinator. Jamie seemed... interested in making sure she felt welcome."
I look at him sharply. " Interested how?"
Beau's smile turns wicked. "Let's just say I recognize that look. It's the same one I get when I see you in those work pants I'm so fond of."
"Oh my God!" I practically bounce in my seat. "Jamie's got a crush! This is huge! Do we know anything about her? Is she single? Is she staying in town? Does she know he's interested?"
"Slow down," Beau laughs. "All I know is her name's Dr. Brooke Shields, she's got some kind of fancy emergency medicine background. Jamie couldn't stop talking about her all morning.'"
I grin. "Sounds like someone's smitten."
"Sounds like someone's about to become the subject of extensive town gossip," Beau corrects. "Fair warning: Etta and Mabel are probably already planning their wedding."
Right on cue, Etta leans forward from the next table where she and Mabel have somehow positioned themselves to eavesdrop. "Did someone say wedding planning?"
" No !" Beau and I say in unison.
"We were talking about Jamie's—" I start, then catch myself. "Never mind."
But it's too late. Etta and Mabel exchange one of those looks that means they've just received classified intelligence of the highest order.
"Jamie Striker," Mabel muses thoughtfully. "Now there's a man who could use some proper settling down."
"Lovely boy," Etta agrees. "Just needs the right woman to appreciate his... qualities ."
I catch Beau's eye and see him fighting laughter.
Welcome to Stone River Mountain, where your love life becomes community property the moment you show even the slightest romantic interest in another human being.
"Oh, that's going to be entertaining," Sienna laughs, re-joining us and also apparently hearing everything. "Jamie Striker attempting romance? This town's about to get very interesting."
"More interesting," Mabel corrects. "What with wedding season coming up and all."
"Whose wedding?" I ask suspiciously.
"Oh, you know," Etta waves vaguely, suspiciously eyeing Beau. " Someone's ."
She's not even trying to be subtle anymore.
"We should probably get going," Beau says, clearly recognizing the signs of an impending matchmaking intervention.
We stand to leave, and I'm surprised when Betty pulls me into one of her famous hugs—the kind that smell like flour and vanilla and forever motherly approval.
"I'm proud of you, sweetheart," she whispers in my ear. "Look how far you've come."
The words hit me harder than they should, bringing unexpected tears to my eyes.
Because she's right.
Six weeks ago, I was a woman who didn't know her own worth, her own strength, her own capacity for love and happiness.
Now I'm a woman with a job I'm good at, a community that's claimed me, and a love that makes me braver and stronger and more myself than I've ever been.
"Thank you," I whisper back. "For believing in me before I believed in myself."
"That's what family does, honey."
As we walk toward the door, pompoms bouncing ridiculously with each step, I catch Beau's hand and squeeze it tight.
"Ready for our next adventure?" I ask.
He looks down at me, this strong, complicated, beautiful man who saved me by letting me save myself, and his smile is soft and real and full of promises I can't wait to see him keep.
"With you?" he says simply. "I'm ready for anything."
And as we step out into the wonderful mountain air, toward the truck that will carry us home to the cabin we share, to the life we're building together one perfect day at a time, I realize I'm ready too.
Ready for work partnerships and town gossip and whatever romantic chaos Jamie Striker is about to unleash on poor Dr. Shields.
Ready for spring weddings and summer adventures and winter nights by the fire.
Ready for forever with the man who taught me that love isn't supposed to make you smaller, but bigger. Braver. More beautifully, completely yourself.
Ready for whatever comes next in this crazy, wonderful, perfectly imperfect life I've found in Stone River Mountain.
But first, I'm definitely going to make him model those tactical pants for me.
Some things are just too important to wait for.