Page 34 of Billionaire Lumberjack's Bargain

“Something like that.”

“Fuck you.” I turn to full face him, until my chest almost brushes his. “My family has been here for 250 years, and we’re not going anywhere.”

His jaw hardens, and he leans in as several people step out from the bakery to my left and across the street from the bookstore. “We’ll see about that. I came to you in good faith, Mr. James, because getting a hold of your grandfather has proven difficult.”

“Yeah? Or did he just flat out reject you, so you thought I’d be an easier target because I’m young and you thought that would make me greedy and pliant?”

He offers another little smirk that tells me I’m probably right. “If you don’t take the offer, we’ll have to take other action.”

I raise a brow at him and snort. “Good luck with that.”

Before he can utter another word, I stalk to the truck, tug open the door, and climb in, my other errands forgotten.

The supplies can wait.

I need to get back to the cabin.

I need to talk to Pops.

* * *

CAMILLE

Dalton’s heavy footsteps on the porch draw me away from the game of Uno I’m trying to help Davey win against Pops on the kitchen table, and the knock on the door comes far harder and more urgently than I would’ve anticipated, considering we’re expecting him.

Davey glances up with an excited smile. “Dalton?”

“I’m sure it is, Davey.” Though, given the urgency in his arrival, I don’t necessarily want him opening the door in case there’s something wrong. “Why don’t you let me go see while you play with Pops?”

Pops peers up from his hand over the rim of his glass, a smug grin pulling at his lips. “You are just running away because you know I’ve already won this game.”

Davey pouts, his bottom lip quivering as if he’s about to cry.

Rolling my eyes at the old man, I make my way to the door. “Gee. Thanks for that.”

His mouth hangs open slightly, like he’s completely innocent in causing that look on Davey’s face. “What?”

I make it to the door and tug it open, ready to ask where the fire is, just as Dalton raises his hand to knock again. The wild look in his evergreen eyes and the set of his jaw make my spine stiffen instantly and eliminate any joke I might have made about his insistence.

Dalton is usually so laid back. He doesn’t get worked up easily, and his calm, measured approach to everything that has to get done has somehow made it feel less daunting. His presence over the last week and a half has brought an almost peacefulness to what had been chaos such a short time ago.

But this isn’tthatDalton.

“What’s wrong?”

He holds out the bag to me with a quick jerk of his hand. “Nothing you need to worry about. I assume my grandfather’s here with you, since I stopped at our place and he wasn’t there?”

I nod and motion for him to come in, keeping an eye on them at the kitchen table. “Yes. He said he wouldn’t mind coming back with me this afternoon and staying with Davey so I could work on some of the smaller repairs in the barn that I can do myself. I thought that would be helpful…”

His gaze softens slightly, appreciation flashing through it and allowing those golden flecks to shine. “It is.” He leans in, until his woodsy scent—of freshly cut pine and crisp, clean mountain air—reaches me. “And the fact that you trust him with your son means more to me than I can ever express.”

The heat of his body and the scent clinging to him that has become so familiar over the last several days draws me closer, and the true emotion in his words shows me that Dalton James is every bit the man he portrays himself as to the world. Something very rare in this day and age. And that’s all because of Pops.

“Of course, I do, Dalton. He raisedyouright.” I give him a little half smile, and it manages to make his lips twitch, but the amusement doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

He shakes his head. “Really, nothing you need to worry about. Family stuff.”

I raise a brow at him, but before I can press, he motions toward the kitchen, where we can partially see the continuing game.

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