Page 6 of Burly Lumberjack

Leesa’s mouth curves into a knowing smile. “Would this sweetness happen to be for a certain tall, broody lumberjack who’s been fixing your porch?”

Heat rushes to my cheeks, and I look down at the pie filling like it might offer me an escape. “It’s just a thank you. He’s doing a lot of work.”

She nudges my arm gently with hers. “Ophelia.”

I bite my lip. “He’s just…different from other men. I’ve never been attracted to someone like I am to him.”

Leesa’s teasing fades, replaced by something warmer. Softer. “Don’t ignore that feeling.”

“I know,” I say quietly. “It’s scary. Pamela says I should dress sexy. I don’t know, though.”

Leesa chuckles. “Definitely wear something…enticing, but don’t wear anything uncomfortable. Sometimes the best emotions are confusing at first.” She bumps her basket lightly against my cart and gives me a wink. “Bake your pie. And don’t be afraid to see where it leads.”

We part ways at the checkout. She doesn’t press me for more, and I’m grateful for that. I don’t know what else I would’ve said without revealing all the fantasies I’ve had featuring Rowan.

Once I’m back in my car with the groceries tucked in beside me, I can’t stop thinking about how Leesa and Pamela are pushing me toward Rowan. It would be a dream come true if anything happened. Of course it won’t, because he probably has all sorts of women throwing themselves at him. He’s fit and muscular, and so, so hot. I’m young and chubby, with no experience.

Still, whenever I’m alone and close my eyes, I see Rowan. His broad shoulders, the way he looks at me, his eyes shining, and an inviting smile. The way it sounds so sexy when he says my name.

I imagine him standing in my doorway, his shirt clinging to his chest, his hands rough and warm as they settled on my waist. I imagine him brushing his thumbs under the hem of my shirt, teasing my sensitive skin. I imagine what it would be like to feel his mouth on my neck, on my mouth, on…other places. Whatwould it be like to run my fingers through his beard? What would he taste like if I kissed him? If I tasted his skin?

The ache between my legs grows unbearable. It just throbs so much I don’t know how I can walk properly. My core pulses and flames so much that I don’t know how I can endure this.

I know my friends do it, but I’ve never really masturbated. I’ve never really felt so turned on that I’ve ever wanted to, but now? Now, there’s a fire burning and swelling inside me, and if something doesn’t happen, I’m sure I’m going to explode.

And now here I am, in the grocery store parking lot, hands gripping the wheel, trying to calm a body that won’t stop yearning by buying ingredients to bake Rowan a pie.

I want him to know I thought of him. He said he came in for pie, so I want to make a pie for him. It’s the least I can do for him fixing my porch.

I want to please him. I want him to taste the pie and think about my hands making it. About me standing in my kitchen, flour on my apron, taking the time to do something special for him.

I want to know what it feels like to be kissed with purpose. Touched like I’m more than just a sweet girl at the diner counter.

And more than anything, I wanthim.Not just in daydreams but in real life. I want Rowan Nelson in my home, at my table, and in mybed.I don’t even know what I’d do to him if he was in my bed, but I sure want the chance to find out.

And if tomorrow he looks at me the way he did today, I might just let him have me.

All of me.

CHAPTER 4

ROWAN

Iappreciate all the time you’re spending to help me,” Ophelia says, her voice soft and shy.

I drive the final nail into the top board and sit back on my heels, muscles tense from the work—and from how close she is. I turn toward her, already feeling primal desire coursing through my veins.

Ophelia stands in the doorway, holding a glass of sweet tea, and she’s wearing an outfit that should be criminal. She’s not in a sweet dress like the other day. Today? She’s dressed like a bombshell pinup.

A skimpy white tank top clings to her chest, the hem tied up above her belly button, giving me a peekaboo view of her luscious belly. She’s wearing frayed cutoff jean shorts that ride high on her thighs and hugging her hips tightly. Her legs are bare, golden in the light, and her silky blonde hair falls loose around her shoulders like a halo. Not much is left to the imagination, and it’s fucking driving me wild.

She looks like a fucking goddess. I want to peel off her clothes and devour her.

I try to focus. I clear my throat and nod toward the porch. “I did. You’d have twisted an ankle if I left it the way it was. I’ll put the stain on before I leave. It should dry quickly in this sunshine, but be sure to wait until it’s dry before you walk over it.”

She steps closer, eyes sweeping over the work I’ve done so far. “It’s beautiful.”

My gaze drifts right back to her. “You are, too.”

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