Page 19 of My Surly Valentine

“I don’t give a flying rat’s ass.” The moment I stand up, I can sense Axton’s huge frame coming toward us. “I would never have children with a man who doesn’t even know what I want to do with my life.”

“What is that, anyway?” Fern snaps. “Puppies and rainbows or some crap?”

A thick arm wraps around my waist. “On the contrary. Hazel wants to bring top-quality literary short stories to the masses. People used to be able to read them in magazines and journals, but trends have shifted. She wants to bring them back through a wonderful podcast that’s been running for the last year and a half. I doubt you’ve even heard of it, though.”

Axton’s rough voice is level, yet I detect a slightly strained note. I can’t see his expression since he’s beside and a little behind me, but by Fern’s comical reaction, I assume daggers are being shot.

My shoulders lower slightly from the feel of Axton’s warmth. Not to mention, his attention to detail. He must have looked up the podcast at some point, which I find touching.

I’m still worried he’ll be angry with me at Fern’s intrusion. Lack of respect, and all that.

The server appears again, taking my empty coffee mug. “Mr. Turner, are you ready to be seated?”

“Yes. Thank you.” Axton reaches out to clap Fern on the shoulder so hard that it makes him stagger slightly. “Hope Peak is beautiful this time of year if you want to do some sightseeing.But more snow is rolling in fast. If you don’t want to stay too long, you’d better be in the air in the next ten minutes.”

Fern shoots me a look of pure frustration. “I’ll be reportingevery single word of thisto your father,” he spits. He doesn’t even say goodbye as he stomps away, texting furiously.

Axton takes my arm and we walk through the lobby and into the restaurant. Strolling past the couples and groups, the only empty table is in the snug in the back corner. Which means hedefinitelycalled ahead to make a reservation before today.

I pull out my phone and send a quick text to my father.

I cannot believe you sent Fern here. How many times have I told you that I’m NOT marrying someone you select for me? I’m furious with you. We’ll discuss it in a week or so. Now leave me alone.

Axton sits very close to me, but I know I’m going to have to explain. To apologize. Tell him that I didn’t want any of this crap to happen on our special night. Let him know that Fern means less than nothing to me.

He stares at me, stone-faced. Then his eyes begin to sparkle, and he presses his lips together, trying not to laugh.

“A flying rat’s ass?”

12

AXTON

Hazel seems extremely relieved by my reaction. Luckily, she doesn’t notice that several people around us look a bit shocked as they stare at us.

“You’re not angry that Fern came here?” she whispers.

“Pfft. On a more important note, do you like champagne?”

Her look of absolute confusion is ridiculously cute. “It’s…okay.”

I take her hand under the table. “Anything you like, baby. What would you like to drink?”

“I like light, fruity white wines. But I’m fine with anything, really. You probably want red with dinner.”

The server comes over to tell us the specials, and I ask, “Carla, Hazel would like a light, fruity white wine. Could we have a bottle of that, please?”

She smiles and nods. “I’ll ask the experts behind the bar. Be right back.”

“You don’t have to drink that because of me…” Hazel is biting her lip again, looking so delicious that I want to take her back to the cabin this very second. But I’m going to have to drop a pile of information on her, and we’re going to need sustenance for that.She glances toward the window as we hear the helicopter engine kick in, then fade away.

Once we’ve ordered and Hazel has taken a few sips of wine, I reach out to take her hand again, on top of the table this time.

“Baby, I need you to know that if you had looked at that Fern guy with any amount of respect or care, I would have forced myself to be civil to him. But you looked at him with utter contempt.”

“I mean, I’m always polite enough, for Dad’s sake. But you know…the bare minimum.”

“Let me ask you this. Two weeks ago, when you were first thinking about coming up here to the mountain, how did you see your ideal future playing out?” My fingers squeeze hers gently. “The truth, please.”

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