Page 3 of Her Bossy Lumberjack

“Sure! Keeps to himself mostly, but if you need him, he’ll be there.” She sighs, beaming to herself. “When I was holed up with the flu last winter, Kane brought me groceries. Didn’t even have to ask, and he wouldn’t accept a dime for them. Such a kind man. I knew his grandmother, Josie. She was the best baker in Cherry Hollow.”

“Better than you?” I ask, surprised.

“You bet. She taught me everything I know.”

Diane reaches out to pull a leaf from my hair, chortling to herself before disappearing into the kitchen to start baking more fresh pies. We don’t open for another fifteen minutes, and I use that time to rearrange the desserts behind the glass, my mind still frustratingly full of Kane’s handsome face. He must have been forty, maybe forty-five, at least twice my age. But I can’t deny that he was hot. Big, rugged, a little bit wild, and infuriating as heck. So different from any guy I’ve ever met, especially the slick city guys back in Silvercrest.

Customers start to filter in a few minutes later, and I smile at each of them. All these faces are quickly becoming familiar, and people greet me so warmly that you’d think I’d lived here all my life. But as the morning draws on, my mind drifts back to Kane: his warm brown eyes, his thick beard, the dark ink on his forearms. The thought of him makes me shiver…but then I think back to the moment I passionately declared that there should be a sign while standing right next to about five different signs. And also the moment I yelled that there was a bear and then promptly ran away like a five-year-old.

Yeah, I can never face that man ever again.

With a sigh, I head out from behind the counter and toward the door, ready to turn the sign to ‘closed’ for lunch. I’m halfway across the room when a looming figure appears on the other side of the glass, and my heart leaps into my throat. I recognize him immediately: the flannel shirt, the bushy beard.

Kane.

I only have a moment to react, so I do what any strong, independent, grown woman would do. I race for the counter as fast as my legs will carry me, duck behind it, and hide.

2

KANE

I watch the last tree topple to the ground with a shuddering creak and toss my axe aside, stretching my aching limbs. It’s been a long morning—lots of diseased trees to fell and twice as many to replant. Usually, I can lose myself in my work for hours, relishing the quiet of the forest, the sound of the river and the birds. But today, all I can think about is the pretty little firecracker I met this morning.

Hannah.

I can’t get her out of my head. She was so fucking sexy with her thick curves and glossy red hair, like something out of a damn painting. And those eyes…bright forest green, mesmerizing. I didn’t know how to react when I saw her. I couldn’t let her see the effect she was having on me—she’s way too young for a middle-aged man to be lusting after. So instead, I acted like an ass. Called her Ginger Snap to rile her up. It worked, but I didn’t count on her being even sexier when pissed off. Watching her pale freckled cheeks turn pink and her eyes flash with irritation only made me want her more. Guess it serves me right.

I turn my back on the felled tree and kneel by the stream, cupping the clear water in my hands and splashing my face with it. It’s warm out, and red-hot desire has been pumping through my veins ever since I saw Hannah. I’m hot and bothered as hell and haven’t eaten since breakfast, so I set off through the trees toward Cherry Hollow, crossing the bridge over the river and heading for Buttercup Bakery. I’m craving something sweet after meeting that curvy little redhead. Cherry pie, that’s what I need, and Diane at Buttercup Bakery makes some of the best.

My mind races with questions as I head up Main Street. Where is Hannah right now? Part of me wishes I’d abandoned my work and followed her out of the forest. At least then I could have figured out if she lives in Cherry Hollow. She didn’t look like a typical hiking tourist, not in that cute little summer dress she was wearing, but I don’t recognize her from around town either. No way would I have forgotten seeing Hannah before.

Absent-mindedly, I shoulder open the door to the bakery, my eyes flickering to the counter. There’s nobody there. I approach the glass, looking at the cherry pies as I wait for somebody to come, when I hear a shuffle from nearby. It sounds like something is crawling around the other side of the counter. Frowning, I lean forward, my heart thudding as I see a flash of red hair and a pair of pretty green eyes looking up at me from the floor. I can’t stop my jaw from dropping open. It’s Hannah. She’s crouching behind the counter, blinking up at me.

“Hannah?”

“Uh—no, that’s not me.”

I stare at her. “What are you doing on the floor?”

“I…dropped something.” She slowly pushes herself up, that adorable blush creeping up her cheeks again. My stomach somersaults as I look at her, and part of me is convinced she’s a figment of my imagination.

“I’m guessing you work here?” I ask.

“I…yep.”

“I’m also guessing that bear didn’t eat you?”

She frowns. “What?”

“Last time I saw you, you said you saw a bear and ran away. Remember?”

“Oh. Right.” She bites her lip, looking like she wants the ground to swallow her up. “Well, I…I was confused. It wasn’t a bear. It was a squirrel.”

I nod. “Easy mistake to make, Ginger Snap.”

She groans, running a hand through her auburn locks as she says, “Okay, so there was no squirrel. I wasn’t expecting to meet a bossy lumberjack in the middle of the forest. I panicked.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Bossy?”

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