Page 13 of My Lumberjack Valentine

Everything would be so much simpler if I wasn’t insanely attracted to my fake boyfriend. Boone is so big and brawny, so rugged and muscular…it’s impossible not to look into his piercing blue eyes and feel a twinge of desire between my thighs. My need for him is only getting stronger, impossible to ignore, and with every brush of skin or accidental touch, I feel like I’m sinking deeper into a whirlpool I can’t escape from.

The day before Valentine’s Day, after nearly a week of fake dating, Boone and I are sitting at the table with Lloyd, tucking into a chocolate cake that I baked earlier today. The sky outside is darkening to an inky black and the fire roars in the hearth as we eat.

“Thanks, sugar,” Boone says. “This is delicious.”

The nickname makes me glow every time, even though he’s only using it for his grandpa’s benefit.

“Glad you like it,” I tell him with a smile.

I can feel Lloyd’s eyes on us, watching our exchange, and I instinctively grab Boone’s hand so he can see. He squeezes it, and my stomach flutters, butterflies whirling around inside me.

“You know,” Lloyd says after a while, “I’ve never seen you two kiss.”

I freeze, almost dropping my fork, feeling Boone stiffen beside me.

“What are you talking about, Pops?” he says gruffly. “We kiss all the time.”

It’s a lie and he knows it. The most Boone and I have done is hold hands or put our arms around one another.

“Well, I haven’t seen it once,” Lloyd says matter-of-factly. “When your grandma was alive, we must have kissed at least a hundred times a day.”

My mouth is dry as I look at Boone. My breath comes in fits and starts, and as his gaze slides to mine, I see the question in his eyes. We never talked about how far we would go to keep up our charade. He’s silently asking permission, and I give him the tiniest nod, my heart in my throat. The world seems to tilt as he leans in, so close that I can see the flecks of gray in his blue eyes, the threads of silver in his beard as it brushes my chin. He smells like whiskey and pine, raw and masculine, and my eyes flutter closed as his lips meet mine.

Oh, God.

My body feels lighter than air, my head spinning as he kisses me softly, a gentle peck. It’s enough to look convincing. We should pull away now, break the kiss. But instead, Boone cups my cheek and kisses me harder, his lips moving urgently against mine. I lose myself in him, tasting chocolate on his tongue as our mouths open, meeting hungrily, desperately. All my frustration is rushing to the surface, and I wrap my arms around his neck, my hands tangling in his hair.

Then all at once, I remember where we are.

I remember Lloyd is watching.

I pull away from Boone, breathing hard, looking down at my lap. My cheeks are flaming, my lips still tingling from the kiss as Lloyd lets out a laugh.

“Damn, that was one hell of a kiss,” he says, shaking his head. “I was about to tell you to get a room.” He looks more convinced than ever, flashing us both a satisfied smile. “Guess you two are really crazy about each other, huh?”

“We sure are, Pops.” Boone’s voice is hoarse, and I shudder, feeling like an exposed nerve. Everything feels heightened. Desire is pulsing through me, pooling between my thighs, and I can’t focus on what Lloyd is saying. He’s standing up, heading for the door, waving to us both. I can barely say goodbye—the words are stuck in my throat. He leaves, Boone shuts the door behind him, and a heavy silence descends on the cabin.

Crap, what am I supposed to say after that?

There was nothing fake about that kiss. Sure, at first it was for Lloyd’s benefit, but then Boone and I forgot all about him. The longing, the desperation—it was all real. It was palpable, charging the air between us with electricity.

It was magical.

I can’t bring myself to look at Boone. I stay seated, looking down at my empty plate, like the chocolate cake crumbs are fascinating to me. When I feel him looming over my shoulder, I draw in a breath and hold it.

His arm reaches out, his hand setting something down on the table beside me. It’s a gold ring, adorned with an enormous diamond that glitters in the firelight.

“This was my grandma’s engagement ring,” Boone says quietly. “If Grandpa sees you wearing it tomorrow, it will be a done deal.”

I nod, my hands trembling slightly as I slide the ring onto my finger. “You think he believes us?”

“I know he does. Especially after…”

He tapers off, but I know what he was going to say.

Especially after that kiss.

I stare at the ring on my finger for a few moments longer, wondering what the heck I’m doing. Fake dating was meant to be simple, but there’s nothing simple about my feelings for Boone. Nothing simple about the way my heart thrums every time I look at him. I can feel him behind me still, his eyes burning into the back of my head, and I wonder what he’s thinking.

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