Page 9 of Rescued By the Lumberjack

I should’ve kissed him. Sure, it would’ve made me look completely crazy for caving to these cravings forming a mile a minute, but I should’ve done it.

For the last three months, I’ve done nothing but mope around while wondering what I did to make my previous relationship fail. Travis did a blow to my self-confidence.

For the first time, thanks to Grayson, I suddenly didn’t feel like I was at fault. That I did nothing wrong. It wasn’t me that was the issue.

The kiss I wanted to give him would not be from appreciation. Far from it.

I wanted to crawl in his lap, grind against those meaty thighs of his, and ask him to compliment me a few more times.

Men like Grayson don’t think I’m pretty. The ones that are too good looking. Right now, I don’t care about any other man. I can’t even think about Travis.

I feel like I’m on cloud nine and I’ve formed a crush on the guy.

Crush isn’t right. Crushes are momentary. A man like Grayson isn’t going to be easily forgotten. He’s going to settle down in my mind for a long while, and I’m willing to bet that I’ll regret never knowing what his lips feel like until I’m on my deathbed.

I should’ve kissed him.

My regret haunts my dreams, and my fantasies tease me with everything I missed out on. I imagined what his hands felt like on my body, taunting and toying with my limbs before taking care of the problem between my thighs.

The same problem that he causes.

When I wake up in his bed, a choice he insisted on, I don’t tuck a hand between my thighs and ease the throbbing like I want to. Even more terrible, being surrounded by his earthy scent is making it worse.

I’ve got to get out of here. If I stay here another day, then his room has to be off limits.

Abandoning his bed, I yawn and make my way toward his door. Halfway there, I realize the throb in my ankle is no longer there. Rather, it feels just fine. If I turn it, there’s a little pinch, but that’s about it.

Oh no.

Without missing a beat, I consider faking it. Limping isn’t hard, and I’m pretty good at acting. I mean, Grayson doesn’t know he’s got someone completely crazy staying under his roof.

I don’t want to lie to the guy. After everything he’s done, it wouldn’t be right. However, I won’t be lying if I don’t tell him the truth. I’ll just… not tell him how I’m feeling at all.

Slipping out of the room, my steps are silent as I move through the cabin. The bathroom is taken up, assumingly, byGrayson. Considering calling out a good morning, I decide against it.

Feels too… homey. He wouldn’t want me getting too comfortable with him.

Moving to the kitchen, I take a seat at the table and wait patiently for him to appear. Trying to figure out what I want to even say to him, I play with the tablecloth while I wait.

Once I’m sure I’ve figured out a whole speech in my head, I sigh as I look toward the door.

What is taking him so long?

Bouncing my knees, I pat my thighs and count the seconds as they turn into minutes. Finally, I sigh and stand.

I’m going to cook something. Talking over breakfast is a great idea.

Who knows when the last time Grayson had someone take care of him? After everything he’s done for me, this’ll be a great start at returning the favor.

Taking my time looking through his cabinets and fridge, I’m happy to see he’s got the basic ingredients for pancakes. Well, I think. Without my phone, I don’t exactly have any way to check for sure or not, but I’m willing to bet whatever I cook will definitely be edible.

The next time I see Daisy outside of her shop, I’m going to have to thank her for keeping her brother alive.

Despite not being some awesome cook, I throw everything together to the best of my ability.

Once I’ve got a mixture thrown together, I only then consider if he’s even got syrup I can use.

I grimace when I see he does not. Well, it’s a shame I didn’t think to have a plan B.

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