Page 13 of Claimed By the Lumberjack

Caption: “Mountain mornings with mystery man ?? #SawyerSightings”

The timestamp hits me like a punch. It was posted ten minutes ago, in real-time. Every muscle in my body locks.

Tessa looks up at me, her eyes wide. “This wasn’t me,” she says quickly, voice tight. “I swear.”

I barely hear her. My gaze is already sweeping the trees surrounding the cabin. My pulse is pounding in my ears. I step off the porch and scan the woods, looking for movement, for a lens glint, for anything.

“Tessa,” I bark, “get inside.”

She doesn’t move.

I snap my head toward her. “Now.”

That does it. She scrambles to her feet and backs into the cabin. I follow, locking the door behind us and pulling the curtain across the window. My heart’s a drumbeat now, every instinct on high alert.

Tessa stands in the middle of the room, arms crossed over her chest, trembling slightly.

“I don’t understand,” she says. “Why would someone post that? How did they even get that photo? You said you don’t have neighbors for miles.”

“I don’t.” I grab the rifle from behind the door. She flinches at the sight of it.

“It’s just for self-defense,” I tell her quietly. “I’ll use it if I have to.”

Tessa wraps her arms tighter around herself, eyes shining. “Sawyer, someone’s watching us.”

I cross the room in two steps and gently take the phone from her hand. I scroll through the account there are other photos. One of me hauling lumber yesterday. Another of Tessa sitting by the fire last night. All of them clearly taken from outside the cabin.

“They’ve been here for days,” I mutter.

She sinks onto the couch like her knees can’t hold her up anymore. “Why? Why would someone do this?”

My jaw clenches. I don’t have the answer, but I know what it feels like to be watched. I know how it twists in your gut, how it gets into your bones and makes every sound, every shadow, feel like a threat. I hate—hate—that she’s feeling that right now.

I kneel in front of her and take her hands, her skin cool and trembling.

“We’ll figure it out,” I say. “I promise.”

She swallows hard. “What if they’re still out there?”

“They’re not getting near you.”

She searches my face, her voice barely a whisper. “You believe me, right? You believe I didn’t know about this?”

“I believe you.”

No hesitation. No doubt. Because even though I don’t know everything about her, I know this: Tessa Hart is bold and loud and maybe a little reckless, but she’s honest. She wouldn’t lie about this.

Her breath catches, and I see it happen: her guard slips. Her eyes go glassy, and her chin trembles, and the weight of it all crashes down on her in a second. Without thinking, I wrap my arms around her and pull her into my chest.

She clings to me like I’m the only thing keeping her from falling apart. Her face presses against my neck, her hands in the back of my shirt, and I hold her tighter, angrier than I’ve ever been that anyone would make her feel unsafe.

“I’ve got you,” I whisper. “You’re okay.”

She lets out a shaky breath against my throat. “I don’t usually get scared.”

“You don’t have to be brave right now.”

She’s silent for a beat. “You’re warm.” I feel her smile against my neck, just the tiniest curve of lips, and it punches something loose in my chest.

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