Page 6 of Her Obsessed Lumberjack

I don’t argue. My hand closes around the necklace in my pocket, my other arm linking with Chloe’s. Once we finally reach the exit, I pay for three slices of pumpkin pie and some cocoa, and we sit on a bench to eat. Chloe and Trace chat animatedly about the maze, snuggling up close, but all I can think about is Freya. Is she still in the maze? Did she go home already? Where is home for her?

An idea strikes me, and I set down my pie, leaning toward my daughter. “Hey, can I borrow your phone for a second? Need to check the weather for tomorrow.”

“Sure.”

She hands it over with a smile, and I feel a twinge of guilt for lying to her. As soon as she turns back to Trace, I open the Facebook app and start a search.

Surely there can’t be too many Freyas in a small town like Cherry Hollow?

My heart stutters when I find her. The sight of her pretty face smiling up at me from the screen is enough to steal the breath from my lungs, and I hurriedly click on her profile.

Freya Marston

Lives in Cherry Hollow

Works at Mountain Brew

Her page is mostly empty and hasn’t been updated for a while, but the words ‘Mountain Brew’ are all I need. It’s a coffee shop in town, just a short drive from my cabin. Part of me wants to stalk every inch of her profile, but I don’t want Chloe to get suspicious of how long I’m taking, so I hurriedly delete the search and close the app, handing the phone back to her. Anticipation is already thrumming through me, filling my chest like a helium balloon. Tomorrow, I’ll head to Mountain Brew first thing and give Freya her necklace back. I’ll get to see that curvy angel again, even if it’s just for a few minutes.

Fuck, I’m definitely losing my mind.

It’s pathetic the effect this girl is having on me, but I don’t give a damn. For the first time in a long time, I feel alive. Awake. Focused on something other than the past.

After I part ways with Chloe and Trace, I go straight home and collapse into bed. As usual, I can’t sleep, but tonight it’s for a different reason…

Tonight it’s because of the curvy beauty from the corn maze.

4

FREYA

Mountain Brew is bustlingwith people this morning. I must have served a million pumpkin spice lattes already, and we’re almost out of pumpkin pie. The coffee shop is decked out for Halloween, with plastic pumpkins, black paper bats, and a neon orange sign on the wall that says Trick or Treat. Even the lattes are spooky, with jack-o’-lantern faces drawn in the foam.

Normally, I’d be happily chatting with the customers, but today I’m too distracted. All I can think about is the mysterious man in the corn maze. I acted like a total idiot in front of him, stumbling everywhere, word vomiting like a toddler who just learned to speak. I’ve never been great at first impressions. Things that sound good in my head come out all wrong, and I inevitably make things awkward and weird. But I wish more than anything that things had been different last night. I wish I’d been confident enough to ask for the man’s number, or at least get his name. Now it’s too late, and I’ll probably never see him again. Already it’s starting to feel like something I dreamed up.

With a sigh, I absent-mindedly reach up to touch my necklace, expecting to feel the carved wood against my fingers. Instead, I feel nothing but bare skin. My heart drops. I reach around my neck, lifting my hair to find the chain, but it’s notthere. Panic rises inside me as I check my pockets, scanning behind the counter. Nothing.

Crap.

“Hey, has anybody seen a necklace?” I ask my colleagues. “Did a customer hand one in?”

They all shake their heads, and I bite my lip, trying to stay calm. Maybe it’s back in my apartment. Maybe I took it off…

But I never take it off,I think to myself.Oh God, where could it be?

A flurry of people enter the coffee shop, and I get to work preparing their orders, forcing a smile despite the anxiety gnawing at me. They take their steaming drinks back outside into the chilly October air, then a few moments later, the door opens again. I catch sight of an enormous figure in my peripheral vision as heavy footsteps approach the counter. When I finally look up, my heart leaps into my throat, and I blink up at the customer, my mouth hanging open in surprise.

The man from the maze.

He’s even more handsome in daylight, his plaid shirt barely containing his thick, muscular body. He must be in his mid-forties, twice my age at least, and ruggedly mature with streaks of silver in his dark beard. Those intense green eyes are fixed on me, and everything melts away as I lose myself in his gaze, my pulse thrumming hard. It’s like last night all over again. Something about this man ensnares my whole body, making my head spin just from his presence. A distant voice in my head reminds me I should be taking his order, but I can’t say a word.

“Hi. Freya, right?” The man’s voice is like a roll of thunder down my spine, softening slightly when he says my name,

“Yes.” My throat is so dry it hurts to speak.

“I came to return this to you.”

The man reaches into the pocket of his jeans and gently pulls out my missing necklace, handling it like it’s a rare jewel. I letout a gasp of relief at the sight of the familiar wooden pendant, and the man pushes it against my open palm, his hand brushing mine for a second longer than necessary.

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