Page 195 of The Lumberjack and the City Slicker

I grin.

“Yeah, good luck to you too, buddy.”

Because I’m not staying up here.

Not like before.

I close up the workshop, run my hand over the workbench that’s seen more of my soul than most people ever have, and look out at the mountain one last time this morning.

I’m not abandoning it. I’ll be back tomorrow to work, but I won’t be sleeping here.

Nah, I’m choosing something bigger.

I’m choosing her.

See, today I’m moving my stuff into Clara’s house.

Not because I need shelter.

Not because it’s convenient.

Because she needs to know I’m not halfway in.

I don’t do halfway anymore.

But I know it might take some convincing.

She’s careful. Thoughtful.

Determined not to lose herself in loving me.

God, I love that about her.

I pull my truck into the driveway and I swear to God, my blood is buzzing in my veins.

“I don’t need to live on top of the mountain,” I tell her when she comes racing out onto the porch and sees my truck full of boxes. “I needed it for a while. But I don’t need to be alone up there anymore.”

She searches my face like she’s looking for cracks.

“Below it is close enough,” I tell her. “I’ll commute up when I’m in a creating mood. But I come home to you. Every night. Because you’re where my heart is.”

Her breath catches.

She tries to play it cool.

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Can I live with you, Trouble? Will you let me in?”

She sniffs and puts her hands on her waist like she’s weighing the odds. My stomach clenches.

Worry threatens to overflow.

But then she gasps and throws her arms around my neck.

“Yes! Oh, yes!”