Page 26 of Billionaire Lumberjack's Bride

Every inch of my skin burns under his assessment.

During our drive down, he didn’t glance at me once, but now, he can’t seem to look away.

I glance down at myself, trying to see what he does. But allIsee is the dress I’ve worn to summer parties for years, my pasty-white skin that desperately needs some time in the sun, and an old pair of sandals that show off an old indulgence—the pedicure I got before my whole life went to shit weeks ago, that’s already starting to chip.

Nothing to look at, really.

Nothing special.

And I guess that’s good because something tells me I won’t be seeing a lot of people or needing to dress up for anything any time in the near future. The way Silas lives will be a dramatic change—so remote, so intentionally isolated, almost like he’s hiding.

From what?

Given what little he said yesterday, I can surmise he doesn’t have contact with his family, but whatever drove him up here is far more than a basic familial squabble. And I’m about to have alongdamn time to find out.

If I can ever crack his rocky exterior.

I am wholly unprepared for any of this—to be a wife, to be a partner to someone who doesn’t want it, to live like that—but it’ll be worth it in the end if Attorney Fields can do what he says he can.

Ronald tugs at my bag. “Let me set this down on the bench for you during the ceremony.”

I let him take it, and his palm presses at my lower back, ushering me toward a side room where the justice of the peace waits. We move past Silas on our way. He doesn’t say a word, just continues to stare at me with an intensity that somehow sends goosebumps skittering across my skin.

Why is he still looking at me like that?

Do I look that terrible?

I thought the little bit of makeup I put on helped hide the puffy eyes from crying last night, but apparently not. It doesn’t matter what he thinks, anyway—since this is all a sham.

He doesn’t have to like me. He just needs that marriage certificate, and I just need his cash. If I don’t start thinking of it as a business arrangement, I’m going to drive myself nuts, wondering what he thinks of me.

Seal the deal and get it over with.

Ronald leans in and motions for Silas to come over.

He clears his throat and approaches, Whiskey at his side. “What?”

His attorney gives him a reproachful glare. “Can you twopleasepretend youwantto do this? I need to take some photos of the ceremony.”

Silas stiffens, his jaw tensing, but he gives a curt nod.

I force a smile. “Yep, no problem.”

That’s what I’m being paid for, right?

Though, I always was a shitty actor and a horrible liar. I wear my heart on my sleeve far too much to conceal my emotions, especially when they’re running as wild as they are today—as wild as the man I’m about to marry.

He couldn’t even be bothered to dress nicely for the wedding. Dark jeans, tan work boots, and a long-sleeve light-blue Henley that barely contains his bulging muscles and shows hints of the tattoos covering his arms and chest. They swirl up out of the neck of the garment, all the way up behind his ears and to where his beard starts under his chin.

Someone clears their throat. “Are we ready to proceed?”

I jerk my head away from staring at Silas and force another smile at the justice of the peace who waits not so patiently to get the ceremony rolling.

Ronald claps his hands. “Yes, absolutely.”

Our officiant nods and motions for Silas and me to come forward. “Excellent. We’re gathered today to bring together Silas Bolton and Lyla Sinclair as they begin their new life together, founded in love and respect. Promises made today are an everlasting, lifelong commitment…”

Each word is a stab straight into my heart.

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