Her eyes snap open and land on me. Then my hands.
She freezes.
Then she screams again, like a whole second wave of panic just hit.
“I am totally gonna get murdered!” she cries.
“Ma’am,” I say calmly, biting back the laugh climbing up my throat, “I swear to God, I’m not here to murder you.”
She doesn’t look convinced.
I sigh and hold up the axe like an idiot. “Also, this is just for protection.Mine.I didn’t bring itforyou. I mean—not touseon you. You know what? Just hold on. I’m gonna put it down.”
I set the axe down gently like I’m defusing a bomb. Then I walk back, hands raised in a silent “please don’t mace me,”gesture.
Her eyes are wide behind oversized glasses, and despite the situation and the chaos she’s clearly wrapped in, I can’t help but notice how cute she looks.
Stop it, Eli.
She’s vulnerable, clearly not from around here, and just shouted the—albeit incorrect—lyrics to a Michael Jackson song like a spell. She’s also probably certifiable.
This isnotthe time to be checking out the crazy lady in the stranded car.
She’s still visibly shaken, practically vibrating in her seat. Then I see her mouth the words—Is this how I die?
Awesome.
The Bear
Max
So, it isn’t a bear.
But also, what I wasn’t prepared for...was a man.
Averylarge,veryBlack,verybeardedman.
Definitely not a bear. Unless the wildlife up here is sponsored by Shea Moisture.
He towers over my car like he was carved out of black stone and scented with pure testosterone. The kind of man who could carry you out of danger or into sin. His beard is thick, his shoulders are criminal, and the way he sets that axe down on the ground like he’s just gotten done with battle? Lord, let this man take me now.
I absolutely volunteer as tribute.
He walks back to my window, calm as can be.
“I’m going to try this again,” he says, voice deep and warm, with just enough edge to make my spine straighten. “Are you okay?”
I blink, still unsure whether I’m alive or knocked unconscious and dreaming I’m in a very niche lumberjack romance novel.“I’m ok. I think? But your roadside assistance lady can go straight to hell!”
His brow furrows. “I’m sorry?”
I roll the window down the rest of the way and give him my best overly-friendly-but-clearly-panicking smile. “Hi. I’m Max, and I really need to get to Toronto for a mixer tonight to meet my favorite romance author.”
He blinks. Once. Twice. Then his voice flattens with the tone reserved for toddlers as he punctuates his question. “Do. You. Need. Help?”
“Yes! Did you not hear what I just said?! I need to get to Toronto!”
“You’re an hour and a half away,” he replies dryly.
