I park out front, grab the bag of breakfast, and step into the inn’s lobby. The place smells like lemon cleaner and burned coffee. Savannah is behind the desk, scrolling on her phone.
Even though she’s only nineteen, Savannah has been the inn’s ‘gatekeeper’ for as long as I can remember. She’s a firecracker with a sharp tongue, cat-eye glasses, and auburn hair that’s a mess of curls twisted on top of her head. She’s made it her mission to know everything that’s going on with everyone in Crystal Falls, making damn sure she gets her two cents in every opportunity she gets.
Not even bothering to look up, she says, “Well, well, if it isn’t the mountain man himself, out before noon and in actual civilization. What’s the occasion, Garrett?”
I grunt, shifting the paper bag in my hand. “Need to drop something off for Annie. What room is she in?”
Savannah finally looks up, grinning, all teeth and trouble. “I gotta say, showing up with breakfast? That’s a bold move for an old guy like you.”
I narrow my eyes. “I’m not old.”
She snickers. “Old enough. Annie’s what… early twenties? She’s gonna wear you out.”
“Just give me the damn room number,” I mutter, already turning toward the stairs.
Savannah leans in, her voice dropping low. “You want me to slip her a note, or are flowers next? I know a florist.”
“Savannah,” I bark, not in the mood.
She winks, waving me on. “Chill, Grandpa. Go, ruin her for all the other city boys. Room six.”
I shake my head, biting back a smile despite myself. I take the steps two at a time, my nerves getting the best of me. Just before I knock on door six, I take a deep breath, telling myself to act normal.Whatever the hell that means.
I have to knock twice. She opens the door, rubbing sleep from her eyes, wearing a faded T-shirt and shorts that make my mouth go dry.Fuck. Those legs.
“Garrett?” Her voice is rough from sleep.
“Brought you breakfast,” I say, holding up the bag and coffee like an idiot.
Her face lights up, beaming back at me. “You’re too much, you know that? I coulddefinitely get used to this.”
“Don’t,” I grumble, but inside I’m thinking about how damn easy it would be to keep her spoiled.
We eat on the porch, letting the sun warm our faces. She teases me for showing up early, for worrying, for being such a “secret softie.” I roll my eyes, but every time I look at her, I want to drag her onto my lap and kiss her until she can’t tease me anymore.
“So, what’s on the schedule for today, mountain man?” she asks, licking icing from her finger. And I can’t help staring at her mouth.
Clearing my throat, I say, “Thought I’d take you up to the waterfall. It’s my favorite spot. Quiet. No crowds.”
She grins, leaning in. “Are you asking me on a date?”
I shrug. “If you want to call it that.”
“I do,” she says, and damn if my heart doesn’t stutter.
We drive out, windows down. She talks the whole way. Of course. More about her life in Charlotte, her dream to visit Paris, and the time she accidentally dyed her hair blue. I can barely keep up, but I don’t dare stop her. I just listen, soaking in every word like rain after a drought.
At the falls, she hops out of the truck and stretches. My brain short-circuits at the sight of her soft stomach as her shirt rides up.
“Okay, city girl, you good to give this hiking thing another shot?” I ask, trying to sound nonchalant.
“Let’s do it.”
The woods wrap around us, a world away from everything else. She talks, asks questions, points at every bird, shrub, rock, until I’m grinning like an idiot. Butwhen she trips on a root and grabs my arm, all my good intentions fly out the window. Her hand is small, warm, gripping mine, and I don’t let go.
At the waterfall, she stops to catch her breath. “Oh my god, Garrett. This is insane.” I don’t even bother to look at the water. I’m looking at her. The way the sun makes her blonde hair look golden, the way her eyes dance as she takes it all in.
I attempt to set up our picnic spot, pulling everything out of my backpack, but my hands won’t stop shaking. She drops down beside me, close enough that our knees bump.
