Page 10 of My Lumberjack Valentine

“What do we do now?” I ask, brushing off my crazy thoughts.

Boone is quiet for a moment. “How would you feel about staying here for a little while?”

“In your cabin?”

He nods. “I know my grandpa. Something tells me he’s going to drop by on the regular to see if we’re spending time together. It will look more realistic if you’re living here.”

My mouth goes dry at the idea of staying with Boone—just the two of us in his isolated cabin. It shouldn’t excite me, but it does, and I feel like I’m about to float up off the couch.

“I know it’s inconvenient,” Boone says, taking my silence for reluctance, “but I’ll pay for your gas so you can get to Peak Sweets every morning. And I’ll cook too. You won’t have to lift a finger.”

“Sounds like a good plan.”

“You think so?” Boone looks at me, his eyes twinkling.

I nod. “Let’s do it.”

6

BOONE

I spendthe next day roaming the woods, waiting for Rosalie to finish up at the candy store. Usually, I feel at peace in the forest, but not today. All I can think about is my beautiful, fake girlfriend. She has completely taken over my life, my thoughts—every waking moment is spent thinking about her, and I don’t want to dwell on what that might mean.

Yesterday was tough. I’ve never lied to my grandpa before, and roping Rosalie into my deception felt pretty shitty. But she was perfect. When I wrapped my arm around her, she softened against me, and I swear I can still feel the warmth of her body against mine, even as I trek through the frozen woodland on this snowy February afternoon.

Goddammit, this is already getting complicated.

I was naïve to think this would be simple, but there’s no backing out now. I need that inheritance. Not just for myself, but for Rosalie. Hell, it’s crazy, but sometimes I feel like I care more about her dreams than my own. I want to save her candy store just as much as I want to expand my business, and if lying to Pops is what it takes, then that’s what I’ll do.

It’s a long day without Rosalie, but she finally arrives in the evening with a bulging suitcase and a bright smile. I hurry togreet her, carrying her stuff into the cabin as she follows behind, thanking me in that sweet little voice.

“There’s a chicken pot pie in the oven,” I tell her once I’ve stowed her luggage in the guestroom, “and a strawberry cheesecake for dessert.”

“Sounds awesome.” She grins at me, her pretty face lighting up. “I hope you like candy because I brought a lot. Chocolate, too. I never go anywhere without a big supply of both.”

“Smart woman.”

I set the table, stealing glances at Rosalie as she sits down. She looks more gorgeous than ever today—her pink hair is tied back in a messy bun, and her curves look sexy as hell in blue jeans and an oversized cream sweater.

Fuck, why did I have to choose the most beautiful woman in the world to be my fake girlfriend?

I serve dinner, and Rosalie hums with appreciation as we tuck into our pie.

“This is awesome. Did you make it from scratch?”

I nod. “Grandma’s recipe. She sure knew how to cook.”

“It’s delicious.”

As we eat, I pour myself a whiskey and ask Rosalie about her day at the candy store, listening with interest as she recounts everything that happened. Hell, I could listen to her read out a damn shopping list, and I’d be hooked. She asks about my day in the forest, and I talk about the trees I felled, the firewood I chopped. There’s not much to tell, but she hangs onto every word like she’s fascinated.

“Did you always know you wanted to be a lumberjack?” she asks.

“Pretty much. Everyone thought I’d go into real estate and make a killing like my grandparents, but I knew it wasn’t for me. I wanted to do something outside, in the open air.”

Rosalie smiles. “It must be very freeing to spend all your time in the woods. I can’t imagine you doing anything else.”

“What about you?” I ask, taking a sip of whiskey. “Did you always want to own a candy store?”

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