Page 58 of Mountain Grump Protector

“No,” I stop him. “It’s not your fault, Cal. It’s mine.”

The words come out sharper than I intend, but I can't stand here and let him take responsibility for this.

“Willow—”

“No.” I shake my head. “You don’t get to apologize for this.”

I push away from the counter and start pacing across the kitchen floor, too wound up to stand still.

“I saw Bryson standing there and I…I just didn’t think,” I admit. “He’s my brother, and he was exhausted and dirty and skinny and…” I look up. “Scared,” I say. “He looked scared, Cal.” It’s the first time I register that for myself. In all the years, Bryson’s been getting himself into trouble, and I’ve been bailing him out, he’s always been cocky and self-assured and way too overconfident for his own good. Not once have I ever seen him scared.

I take a breath, letting that sink in, before I continue. “So I did what I always do,” I tell Cal.

“And what’s that?”

I let out a humorless laugh and shake my head. “I fixed it.”

The answer hangs between us, and I can see clearly that despite all of my efforts over the years when it comes to Bryson, I have never actually fixed anything at all.

I lift my hands and drop them as that realization settles over me. “At least, I tried to,” I say, quieter now.

I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment before opening them and looking Cal straight in the eyes. “I think at some point, I managed to convince myself that if I tried enough, I could keep everything together.” My throat tightens. “After Mom died, we all kind of fell apart. Every problem, every mess, every…well, everything became my issue to deal with.”

Cal doesn’t interrupt. He simply stands before me and listens, which makes it easier to speak the words I’ve been holding inside for far too long.

“Nobody else stepped up, and pretty soon, everyone just expected that I would handle things. The problem is, after a while, you just get so used to carrying the load on your own that you don’t even realize how heavy it is.” I shrug helplessly.

The silence stretches for a minute.

“So, when I saw him standing there, I just reacted. I didn’t even think about what it might mean to you.”

The admission hurts because it’s true. And that makes it even worse.

“I fell right back into old habits without considering how hard you’d worked to protect me, or the danger I could be putting all of us in by hiding him.”

A tear slips down my cheek, and I swipe at it roughly before wrapping my arms around myself. “I didn’t think what it might do to us.”

The words hardly make it out, because now that I hear them out loud, I know that’s the part that hurts the most.

Us.

Because that’s what this has become. And now, I’m afraid I’ve ruined us before we even got a chance.

“I’m sorry I hurt you.” My voice shakes, and Cal’s expression shifts.

“You’re not just the grumpy mountain man whose cabin I’ve been hiding in.” I let out a shaky laugh as another tear slips free. “This strangely protective man who sleeps outside my bedroom door while I try to figure out why exactly he’d sacrifice so much for a girl he doesn’t even know.”

My throat tightens, but I keep going.

“Somehow, between the cups of tea you made me every morning, organizing your mess of a garage for you, and winning over your dog, you became a whole lot more than that…” I risk a smile. “You became someone I care about.”

The admission leaves me feeling exposed, but I no longer care about being vulnerable.

I drop my arms and take a step toward him. Then another. “Nothing Ronnie Hatch could have done to me could have been worse than knowing I hurt you, Cal.” I reach for his hand, my fingers trembling slightly as they close around his. “Because the truth is, you’re the very best thing that’s happened to me in a long time.”

The confession slips from me on a breath.

His hand turns mine over, his rough thumb brushing across my palm. The simple touch almost undoes me. For a second, neither of us says anything.