Page 70 of Billionaire Lumberjack's Bride

My eyes dip to her lips, and I release her before I do something stupid again and open her door, then nudge her back.

She mutters something unintelligible—but definitely not complimentary—under her breath and climbs in, snatching the remaining bag from my hand. “I really wanted that sauce for dinner tonight.”

I scowl at her and slam her door, then make my way around the front of the truck and climb in. Whiskey continues to sit there, his eyes darting between the two of us, like he’s trying to figure out what the fuck just happened. But of course, the traitor lays his head on her lap, and she immediately starts petting him.

“Your daddy is an arrogant, brutish, grumpy asshole, you know that?”

I snort as I shift the truck into drive and head back up the mountain.

She isn’t wrong.

In fact, Lyla seems to have me pretty well figured out in only a matter of a week. Her hand threads through Whiskey’s fur, rubbing along his neck the way he likes it. “He likes to throw around his weight and muscle, doesn’t he?”

The road dips, making the entire truck bounce violently. I cast another quick glance at her and scowl. “That’s not what I’m doing.”

“Oh, really?” Her dark brows wing up. “You just threw me over your shoulder, hot shot. What do you call that?”

“I call that, ensuring you don’t get stuck in the dark trying to make it down the mountain and freeze to death again.”

That shuts her up.

She sits back in her seat and crosses her arms over her chest defiantly, staring out at the woods and the mountain landscape as we climb higher and higher, closer to my property.

By the time we reach the turn-in, the tension between us is so thick that Whiskey has his ears up, waiting for something to happen, for one of us to snap.

And we’re both pretty fucking close.

I pull around the side of the cabin and throw the truck into park, then open my door. Before I can climb out, Whiskey jumps over me and races out into the open field—either to go to the bathroom or because he can’t stand being stuck between Lyla and me.

Lucky dog, making a quick escape.

My turn to do the same.

I start to slide out of my seat, but Lyla grabs me, her nails digging into the ink on my forearm. She looks at me with an intensity that makes me freeze, any thoughts of escaping washed away by the need to hear whatever it is that’s so important for her to say.

A little sigh falls from her lips, and she shakes her head. “You can’t do that to me ever again, or I’ll leave.”

I should let her threat go, climb out of this truck, and go cool down somewhere far away from the woman who gets me so heated, but all the feelings that have been pent up since I found her almost frozen to death in the woods have been bubbling just under the surface. Our confrontation on the road cracked a fissure across the hard exterior that allows me to keep everyone away, but it’s too late now to seal it over again.

If she’s going to give me ultimatums, then I have one for her, too. Something that has been threatening to unravel me completely for days.

I incline my head toward her, getting right up in her face, as close as I can be, without kissing her again. “You can’t do what you did the other night to meeveragain. I can’t…”—I shake my head, trying to figure out how to explain this in a way that isn’t going to give her the wrong impression—“I can’t go through that again, almost losing you like that.”

And itisn’tjust because I need her by my side for the board meeting.

Her eyes soften slightly before she leans in and presses her lips to mine, stealing anything else I might have said with the way my mind goes completely blank every time she touches me.

It isn’t like the other two kisses we’ve shared.

This one is almost sweet.

Slow.

Like she doesn’t want to scare me away.

Her lips glide along mine in a silent plea, and despite knowing how bad this will end, a low groan of appreciation rumbles in my chest. I reach out and drag her across the bench seat toward me, as close as our bodies can come in the confines of the truck.

Every fiber of my being awakens at her touch, her kiss, her scent seeping into my lungs. She reaches up and buries her fingers in my beard, scraping her nails along my jaw in a way that makes my hard cock jump against my jeans.

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