Page 45 of Challenged By the Mountain Man

"You'd do that?"

"I'd like to try," she says. "I don't have anything tying me to where I am now except a lease and a job I don't particularly care about. And this way, we get to actually know each other. Date like normal people, or whatever version of normal works for us."

"I'm not good at going into town," I warn her. "Even for you, I don't know if I can—"

"I know." She shifts closer, her free hand coming up to cup my face. "And I'm not asking you to. You come down when you can, when you want to. I'll come up here when I can. We figure it out as we go, no pressure, no expectations beyond wanting to see where this leads."

"What if it doesn't work? What if you get down there and realize this was just... two days of insanity?"

"Then at least I'll have tried," she says. "At least I'll have gotten away from my old life and started somewhere new. But Griffin?" She leans in until her forehead is resting against mine. "I don't think that's going to happen. I think whatever this is, it's real. I think it's worth fighting for."

"You barely know me," I say, but even as the words come out, I know they're not entirely true. She knows the important parts. She knows I'm damaged, difficult and that I live like a hermit. She knows about the nightmares and the isolation and all the reasons I should send her away.

And she's still here.

"I know enough," she says. "I know you broke into my cabin to make sure I didn't freeze to death. I know you taught me to split wood and build fires and jump into freezing waterfalls. I know you make me feel safer than I've felt in three weeks. That's enough to want to try."

I look at her, this woman who crashed into my life two days ago and somehow managed to demolish every wall I spent eight years building, and I realize she's offering me exactly what I need. Not a commitment I'm not ready for, not a demand that I change who I am, just... possibility. A chance.

"Okay," I say. "Okay, we try it your way."

Her smile is bright enough to rival the fire. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." I pull her into my lap, and she comes willingly, wrapping her arms around my neck. "You move to Wildwood. You get a job, a place. We see each other when we can. We take it slow."

"Slow," she agrees, then grins. "Well, slower than jumping into bed after two days."

"That ship has sailed," I point out, and she laughs.

"It really has." She kisses me, soft and sweet. "But we can slow down from here. Get to know each other properly. Go on actual dates."

"I don't know how to date," I admit.

"Neither do I. We'll figure it out together."

I kiss her again, already thinking about what this means. She'll be forty minutes away instead of hundreds of miles. Close enough to visit. Close enough that I could actually try to make this work without either of us sacrificing everything we are.

"When will you go back?" I ask when we finally break apart.

"End of the two weeks, like planned. I need to give notice, pack up my stuff, say goodbye to my best friend Jenna." She traces my jaw with her fingers. "But I'll come back. A month, maybe six weeks to get everything sorted. And then I'll be in Wildwood."

"You're sure about this?"

"I'm sure I want to try," she says. "The rest we'll figure out as we go."

It's not a guarantee. It's not a promise that this will work out perfectly, that we won't hit obstacles or that either of us won't change our minds. But it's real. It's honest. It's a chance at something I didn't think I'd ever have again.

"Okay," I say again, and this time it feels like a commitment. A promise that I'm going to try too. That I'm going to come down the mountain when I can, that I'm going to let her in, that I'm going to do my damnedest to make this work.

She settles against my chest, and we lie back down together, her body fitting against mine like she was made for it.

"Griffin?" she murmurs after a moment.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. For being willing to try this with me."

"Thank you for not asking me to be someone I'm not."