Page 73 of Billionaire Lumberjack's Bargain

I scrub my hands over my face and give myself a moment to try to process how quickly things changed with Camille. It’s been four months since I first stared down the barrel of her shotgun, but the shift seems to have happened in almost the blink of an eye.

Of course, it wasn’t really that fast.

We’ve grown closer and closer over the time we’ve spent together, but I never allowed myself the luxury of hoping or believing it might become more.

Not after she lost Dave.

Not when she’s carrying his child.

Today changes things…

There isn’t any way I can let her walk away and pretendthatdidn’t just happen. I won’t allow her to shut down or drown in whatever she’s feeling right now. We definitely need to talk about it. But not when Pops and Davey are around.

I snag a T-shirt and open the bedroom door.

Davey’s excited voice carries up the stairs, and I slowly make my way down to find all three of them in the living room.

Camille squats in front of her son as he excitedly tells her about the successful fishing trip in jumbled sentences so fast that I barely catch more than a few words.

A single small trout on a string hangs from his little fist, and he lifts it proudly, proving their “success” and explaining his bubbling excitement.

Pops glances up at my descent, brows raised. “You’re up…”

I understand his confusion. The otherveryfew times I’ve allowed him to see me like I was earlier, I didn’t move for the rest of the day and barely did anything the next few except what was absolutely necessary around the homestead that he couldn’t accomplish.

“Yeah…”

I don’t intend to offer any other information abouthowthis miracle happened.

The bath.

The massage.

Theverypersonal release of all that tension…

His eyes dart between Camille and me, and she quickly looks away, refocusing on Davey with a smile to avoid the knowing scrutiny of the old man who reads things all too well.

I’m sure he has a million questions about what happened between the time he left me practically collapsing upstairs and now, and given the pink rising in Camille’s cheeks, he probably already has a guess.

But one thing Popsdoeshave is some common sense and tact.

He knows better than to confront me about it in front of Camille and Davey.

“I’m glad to see you up and around.” His eyes scan over me. “I expected you’d be down for a while.”

“I’m okay.”

Instead of the relief I expect to see crossing his face, his jaw tightens, and he inclines his head toward the kitchen with the clear intent of getting me away from prying ears.

I follow him in there, tugging on the shirt as I go. “What’s going on?”

He glances over my shoulder to ensure Camille and Davey are occupied before he leans closer. “We weren’t alone at the lake.”

All that tension that just got released in the most delicious way immediately returns to rest between my shoulders. “What do you mean?”

It’s squarely on our property.

Privateproperty that’s well-marked as such.

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