Page 99 of Axe-ing for Trouble
He nodded. “Did they divorce?”
“God no. She hung on for years, after rehab failed and he drained their retirement savings.” The thought made my chest ache. “It wasn’t until he died that she truly understood how long he’d actually been gone. And I think that hurt more.”
“I’m sure.”
“But they had something beautiful, even though it didn’t last. And maybe that’s the best anyone can hope for.”
My words hung in the air. It was depressing to think about. But maybe a little hopeful. And I’d been feeling more hope since the night I showed up here a few weeks ago than I had in years.
“Your brothers are doing great,” I said, ready to move on from talk of my parents.
“Yes. But none of them got there easily. I do everything in my power to make sure they don’t fuck up. And if I’d known Gus—who I’m probably closest to, even if Noah is my twin—had married Chloe when they were twenty, maybe I could have helped him figure shit out.”
“You didn’t know he was married?” I squeaked.
“Didn’t have a clue. They got married in secret, then had a big falling out and divorced. From there, they didn’t speak for twenty years.”
“That’s wild.”
“Then she marches into the conference room the day we’re closing on the sale of the business and declares she’s bought the company to spite him. And now they’re happily in love, and my grumpy brother is reading books about infant brain development and making googly eyes at his wife during work meetings.”
“Hmm…” I said, the wine and the good company mellowing me out a bit. “So what you’re saying is, even the most closed-off lumberjack has a chance?”
“Maybe.” He shrugged.
“Oh, Jude. I think there’s a girl out there, just waiting to knock you on your ass.”
I snatched another slice of pepper, but before I could pull my arm back, he caught it and stared into my eyes.
“I’ve already met her.” He rounded the island. “And she managed to kick my ass with only one good arm.”
Chapter32
Mila
Breathing labored and dizzy, I reveled in the rush of affection and hope and joy as he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me to him.
A little voice in my head whisperedlove.But I ignored it. Banished the word. This was not love. It was far too soon. And our circumstances? No this wasn’t that. I didn’t fall in love.
Like and lust? Those were sensations I could get behind. I liked him. A lot. He was funny and smart and good with his hands. He loved his dog and his family. And was dangerously good at Scrabble.
So it was natural. This feeling. The dizziness.
The way my heart jumped when he kissed me, or when the rough pads of his fingers stroked my cheek. It was possibility and promise rolled into a sexy package that I was powerless to resist.
“God, I can’t keep my hands off you.” He kneaded my breast with one hand while he used the other to tip my head up and deepen the kiss.
Reveling in his touch, I cupped the erection that was already straining against the confines of his pants. My body hummed in anticipation of the pleasure he was guaranteed to deliver.
“Fuck. Trouble.” He dropped onto a stool and pulled me into his lap.
With my arms around his neck, I lined myself up and ground against him, desperate for friction. The pressure was already building inside me when he gripped my hips and pushed me down again.
I fumbled to unbutton his nice shirt, my finger shaking with a need that threatened to overwhelm me.
“Bedroom.” He stood, keeping me in his arms, my legs wrapped around his waist.
I nodded, my lips on his neck, my good hand grasping at his hair.
