Page 2 of Rescued By the Lumberjack

A chill runs up my spine, and I can’t tell if I’m getting goosebumps because I’m nervous or because he’s taking me in one inch at a time.

Oh boy. He’s wearing a plaid shirt that’s clinging to his arms, dirtied with a layer of who-knows-what. In his hand, he’s holding…rabbits?

All this time waiting for some proof of life other than the few squirrels that mocked me with their nuts, and the first guy that comes across my path is someone with possible blood on his shirt.

Ugh. Maybe I should usher him along and put more hope into seeing another person cross my path. Maybe I can manifest a friendly hiking couple who can offer some snacks. After all, it feels like it’s been a few hours since I last ate something.

He doesn’t speak, almost like he doesn’t know how to. Surely, that can’t be the case. Even on a mountain, everyone who lives up here has to communicate with each other one way or another.

“So, you wouldn’t happen to have a phone on you, would you?” I show him my phone, the screen dark and cracked. “Or a radio or something I can use to call for help. See, my ankle…” I try to lift my leg and groan low in the back of my throat.

The weight of his gaze moves down to my foot, and his frown grows harsher. Like he’s angry that I’ve disrupted his routine, he doesn’t even bother to blink.

Something tells me that this guy is intense. He probably doesn’t talk to a lot of people. Well, I can only get so far when I’m working with silence.

He steps close enough that I can smell the scent of pine clinging to him. Like he was molded straight from the mountain’s surface, he blends in with our surroundings. While I’m distracted breathing him in, I don’t notice him moving his arm until it’s a bit too late.

“Oh no, I don’t–” I squeak when he drops his future dinner against my stomach. Before I can fully wrap my mind around everything that is happening, my breath catches as he swoops down without warning.

A gasp leaves my lips as he lifts me from the wet ground without a single word or grunt. Never mind the mud I’m getting all over him, he hugs me to his chest. He’swarm.

“My bag,” I gasp, looking over his plaid-covered shoulder.

He slowly inhales, and as I expect, another sigh rolls out of him. He cleverly maneuvers us into a position where he can hook his finger in the loop. Thanks to packing lighter than I should’ve, it’s an easy carry.

Distracted by the man himself, I take those eyes of his. Up close, they look less dark. More like salted caramel once the sun hits them right.

Bad, bad Piper. I should not be wondering if this man is handsome beneath his bushy beard or placing bets on my belief that he is.

Instead, I should concentrate on his long strides as he walks effortlessly, unafraid of slipping on mud like I did.

“Um, where exactly are you taking me?” I ask, even though I doubt I’ll get an answer. Much to my surprise, he parts his lips.

He hums with a voice deep enough to let the vibrations resonate through my bones. “Home.”

2

Grayson

I’ve come across plenty of hikers in my day. Typically, I ignore them. Hell, they just have to look my way, and they know that I’m the last thing on this mountain they want to bother.

Never have I come across such a beautiful one. Not one that made me question if my eyes were playing tricks on me or not. No, this woman is real. I feel her weight against my arms with every step.

Her voice is soft, coated with a layer of hesitance every time she parts those plump lips. Unless I want to run us into a tree, I need to stop staring at them.

I can’t remember the last time I’ve been in a woman’s company. Unless my sister, the one who pounds on my door every few weeks to make sure I’m still alive, counts. If not, it’s had to be years.Years.

That must be why I’m feeling so on edge. Why I’m feeling this demanding need to get her to my cabin as soon as possible.

“I’m Piper, by the way,” she introduces after a while. “I appreciate the help.”

I believe her, but the wobble of her voice makes it unconvincing. This woman seems like she’s outright terrified of me. I’m sure I’ve given her a list of reasons why to be.

Breathing in again, all I smell is citrus. Maybe it’s her shampoo, or her body wash, but the smell clinging to her is mouthwatering compared to what I’m used to. Nothing but the scent of earth out here. After last night’s rain, all I’ve smelled is wet grass.

I want to bury my nose into her hair and see how much of a difference the citrus fruit makes.

From the way my cock stirs to life from doing nothing but hugging her closer to my chest, I can bet it’s one hell of a difference.

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