The little bell above the door tinkles, jingling softly, and before I can say another word, Lucy is gone.
Through the window, I watch her disappear down the sidewalk. It takes me a second to realize my grin has faded, replaced by a single nagging thought:She didn’t give me her number.
It’s not like I didn’t give her the chance.
I mean, Ihandedher my phone—she had it in her palm! And she didn’t use the opportunity! Granted, it was to type in Annabelle’s number, but still. Most women I’ve met wouldn’t need an invitation. Usually, they’re slipping me their digits before I can even ask, batting their lashes, dropping not-so-subtle hints.
Not her.
She . . .walked away.
My ego stings a little. Okay, maybe more than a little. I’m used to women being all over me, and now I’m left here wondering why she didn’t evenoffer.
No way was she not into me.
I could see it in her smile, the way she teased me. She’s playing hard to get.
Yeah, that’s it.
She wants me to chase her.
Maybe I will. After all, I’ve got her name now. And Annabelle’s number.
More than enough to work with ...
Chapter 4
Lucy
“I ran into one of your lumberjacks.”
“Which one? Bill, Wally or Kyle?”
“Neither.” I shake my head, hiding a smirk. “Harris. The new guy.”
That gets her attention. Annabelle stops mid-keystroke and looks up, her forehead furrowing in confusion. “What new guy?”
“You know, tall, broad shoulders, coffee-stained sweatshirt? Kind of a Travis Kelce vibe but way better looking,” I say, casually sipping my tea. “Apparently, he’s your emergency fill-in lumberjack.”
For a moment, she stares at me blankly. Then, slowly, a grin spreads across her face. “Wait—are you serious? I have four lumberjacks now?”
“Looks like it,” I say, setting my cup down on her counter. “Though he didn’t exactly come with an axe or flannel. Or tools. Seemed pretty unprepared, if you ask me.”
Annabelle lets out a laugh, slumping back in her chair. “I don’t care. I’ll take whatever I can get! This is great news. Do you know how much easier this makes things? With three, we were barely scraping by. But with four, I have hope the others will show up too.”
“Well,” I say, leaning against the counter. “Don’t get too excited. He talks a lot. And he’s kind of cocky.”
Annabelle waves a dismissive hand. “I’ll knock him down a peg or two if I have to. As long as he’s got two working arms and a pulse, I can put him to use.”
He does. Nice ones. He’s fit and cute and has a neck so thick she won’t be able to locate his pulse.
“Oh, he’s got working arms,” I mutter, remembering how easily he leaned into the whole rugged-hero act. “And a talent for spinning bullshit. I couldn’t tell if he was lying or not—you may need to keep an eye on him.”
“Noted,” she says, still grinning like she’s won the lottery. “Honestly, I don’t care if he’s a drama queen or a beauty queen or a terrible logroller. I’ve been praying for these guys to show all week, and now one of them has.”
“Then ... if you’re happy, I’m happy.” I grab a slice of toast from her plate and take a bite. “At least you’ve got four now. Crisis mostly averted, yeah?”
Annabelle nods, letting out a long, dramatic sigh of relief. “For now. Four lumberjacks means I mightactuallysleep tonight instead of lying awake, stressing about that—and hayrides and cider stations.”
