Page 81 of Billionaire Lumberjack's Bargain

“I’ll sleep on the couch so I can be near the door.”

She releases her lip with a little sharp breath, her shoulders relaxing.

A pang hits my chest that feels an awful lot like disappointment, even though I never intended to put her in a situation where she would ever be uncomfortable.

That was never whatthiswas about.

I just wanted to help Davey and this incredibly brave and stunningly beautiful woman in any way I could.

Pinpointing when things changed would be impossible because it wasn’t one single moment in time. It was the passage of it. Every hour, each day we spent together working and getting to know one another, I feel a little more in love with the woman I thought I could never have.

How could I when her heart belongs to someone else?

Her focus has to be on herself, her baby, and her son.

And protecting all three of them is my only concern. The old man can fend for himself tonight…

“Where’s Davey?”

“I got him to fall asleep.” She rubs at her side, like the baby is kicking or it’s bothering her. “I think Pops wore him out.”

“Well, the walk to the lake isn’t an easy one.”

“No, it isn’t.” She shakes her head. “Dave brought me down there a few times.”

The ghost of a smile that crosses her face, thinking about the memory, renews that spark of hope that she will make it through all of this.

Her grief over losing Dave will last a lifetime.

It may never fade.

But lately, it seems as though she’s been taking my advice to look for the moments in each day that are pure joy.

That’s certainly what I experienced earlier today.

After one of the most agonizing moments I can remember, this woman somehow morphed it into one of the most beautiful.

Almost as if she can read my thoughts or somehowseewhat I’m thinking about and the way my skin heats remembering her hands on me, she blushes and retreats a few steps, then glances back at the couch. “You can’t sleep out here.”

“Why not?”

Her throat works on a slow swallow. “Your back…”

I scowl at her, opening my mouth to explain that I will be doing just that, despite any objections she may make.

“Don’t give me that look, Dalton. I saw you earlier today, remember? You can’t argue that sleeping on a couch isn’t going to mess up your back even more.”

Probably.

The fact is, I never knowhowI’m going to feel when I wake in the morning, regardless of where I end up crashing, so this argument is irrelevant.

“I’ve slept in far worse places than on a couch, Camille. I’ve spent many nights in the barn because one of the animals went into labor and I didn’t want to leave it or out on the property to watch over some of the livestock when there was a bear in the area. I’m no stranger to sleeping places other than a bed.”

One of her dark brows rises slowly. “And was your back as bad those times?”

She’s got me there, and the look she gives me tells me she knows it, too.

I told her far too much today.

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