Page 5 of Her Bossy Lumberjack

It’s crazy. We only just met, and she’s at least twenty years my junior, but Hannah is doing something to me…something I never thought could happen to a bossy old loner. I feel like a fucking teenager again as I cross the bridge and head back into the forest, my pulse racing the whole way.

3

HANNAH

Twenty-four hours. That’s how long it’s been since Kane strode into the bakery and found me crouching behind the counter. And in all that time, I haven’t stopped thinking about him for one second.

It’s infuriating.

He is infuriating.

But as much as I hate to admit it, I like it. A lot.

I like the way he calls me Ginger Snap in that deep growly voice, and the way his brown eyes shine with mischief. I like his beard and his tattoos, and the way he looks at me like I’m the only person in the world.

I like him.

Kane is still a stranger, but with the chemistry between us, it feels like I’ve known him for ages. I just wish I knew more about this bossy lumberjack and his life in the forest. I wish I were brave enough to head back into the woods and ask him all the questions that have been racing through my mind since we met.

“Hannah, come here a second,” Diane says, pulling me from my thoughts as she beckons me toward her. “I need you to be my taster.”

I grin. “My favorite part of the job.”

She hands me a fork. “It’s a cherry cheesecake. I’m thinking of selling a few at the festival next week.”

“What festival?” I ask as I take a bite of the sweet, creamy dessert.

“The Cherry Festival!” She shakes her head like she’s annoyed with herself. “I should have told you about it sooner. Sometimes I forget that you’re from Winterdale.”

The cheesecake turns to glue in my throat. When Diane asked me where I was from at my job interview, I didn’t dare say Silvercrest. I was scared that she might put two and two together and figure out my real identity, so I lied. I picked a nearby small town at random, Winterdale, and told Diane it was my hometown. Even my name is a lie. Everybody thinks I’m called Hannah Martin, but my real name is Hannah O’Neill.

“What’s the Cherry Festival?” I ask, mainly to distract myself from the guilt clawing at my chest.

“It’s a town tradition—been happening since long before I was born, and that’s saying something!” Diane leans back against the counter. “There’s live music, cherry picking, all kinds of cherry products for sale—pies, tarts, cakes. But the main event is the cherry pie contest.”

“Only in Cherry Hollow,” I mutter, smiling to myself. I love all the kooky, small-town traditions around here.

“It’s competitive as heck,” Diane continues. “People in Cherry Hollow get really serious about their cherry pies, and everybody has some secret family recipe or other that’s supposedly the best in the world.”

“Sounds fun.” I grin at her. “Maybe I’ll enter.”

Diane nods. “You should. We need some new blood. The same two people have been winning it for years.”

“Who?”

Diane seems to swell with pride as she says, “Well, I win most years. But sometimes Kane beats me.”

I swivel my neck so fast I feel it click. “Kane?”

“Yep.” Diane chuckles at the expression on my face. “Even grumpy lumberjacks can’t resist the Cherry Festival. The desserts are to die for.” She looks at the cheesecake in front of me. “Speaking of desserts—what did you think?”

“It’s delicious. You should definitely sell it at the festival,” I tell her, my mind still trying to process the idea of Kane baking a cherry pie. It’s a weird contrast, but a sexy one. There’s so much I don’t know about this rugged lumberjack, and I’m gripped with curiosity as I spoon the last of the cheesecake into my mouth.

“Perfect,” Diane says brightly. “Well, I’m going to grab some lunch. Want to come?”

“No thanks. I brought sandwiches.” Usually, I’d love to grab lunch with Diane, but I don’t want to risk missing Kane if he comes in like he said he would.

“Alrighty, well, I’ll see you in a little while.” She gives me an exaggerated wink. “Maybe I’ll even give you some tips for the cherry pie contest.”

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