Page 19 of Falling for the Lumberjack

The tallest—bigger than Landry, dark hair tied back, full beard—didn’t say a word. Just stared at the tree like he could dismantle it with a thought.

The second one had a cocky grin and walked like he’d just rolled out of someone else’s bed. “Well, well, look what the storm blew in,” he drawled, eyes locking on me.

Landry’s hand wrapped around my wrist, tugging me close. “Don’t,” he ordered his brother.

The other man smirked. “Didn’t say anything.”

“You were thinking it.”

“Damn right I was.”

The third brother, silent, leaned on the handle of an axe. Watching. Calculating.

The witty brother kicked the fallen tree. “So what’d you do, big brother? Chop this down yourself to trap her up here?”

“Fuck off,” Landry said, but there was no real heat in it. Just the familiar exasperation of siblings who had been pushing each other’s buttons for decades.

“Sounds like something I’d do.” He just grinned at Landry’s growl. “Lucky for you, we brought chainsaws.”

“Get to work.”

“Say please.”

Landry didn’t blink and his brother sighed. “You’re no fun.”

The first brother started unloading gear, quiet and efficient and the others joined. Soon the sound of chainsaws cut through the early morning silence. Landry didn’t offer to help. He stayed close to me, fingers still wrapped around my wrist.

“You can let go,” I whispered.

“Not ready yet.”

I turned to him, fingers brushing his stomach. “You worried I’m going run off with one of your brothers?”

His eyes darkened. Possessive. Fierce. “Try it.”

“Relax, lumberjack,” I said, rising on my tiptoes to place a kiss on his stubborn jaw. “You already claimed me.”

“Damn right I did.”

And in that moment, with chainsaws buzzing and brothers bickering, I knew that Lone Mountain had become my home.

That this stubborn, sometimes infuriating mountain man had become my home.

EPILOGUE

Sally

Six months later…

The sound of hammering echoed through the trees, rhythmic and steady. Like everything else in my life lately, it was oddly comforting.

I sat on the porch swing of Landry’s cabin. It was bigger than the office cabin, but I missed that placed. There’d been something about those cramped walls and the one creaky bed that made things… intense. My toes were bare, my coffee warm, and inside, a loaf of banana bread was cooling on the counter because apparently, I wasthatgirl now.

Domestic. Settled. Maddeningly happy.

“You’re staring at me again,” Landry rumbled, not looking up from where he was securing the new railing.

“Maybe I’m just appreciating the view,” I teased, watching the way his flannel shirt clung to his broad back. The man could still make my thighs clench with a single grunt.

---