Page 190 of The Lumberjack and the City Slicker

My shirt somewhere on the floor.

The yellow diamond ring on her finger glints under the penthouse lights.

And the quiet, steady certainty that we are exactly where we’re meant to be.

Together.

Chapter 40

Clara

The days after the gallery show feel like stepping into a hurricane I didn’t see coming.

One minute I’m in a gown that makes me feel like a fairy princess with a canary diamond on my finger and Greyson’s mouth on mine in a penthouse that smells like chocolate mousse and impossible happiness.

The next?

We’re back in Woodhaven because Greyson refuses to give the city even one more day to get its claws into us.

Sames.

He flies us back himself—quiet, precise, controlled—like he can outmaneuver the chaos by sheer will.

But you can’t outfly the internet.

By the time the tires touch down in Maine, his phone is already vibrating itself to death inside his pocket.

Texts. Calls. DMs. Emails.

Notifications stacking so fast it looks like a slot machine jackpot.

And mine isn’t much better.

Some reporters recognized me. Knew my blog. My connections.

I don’t even have to open any of it to know the truth.

The Lumberjack Artist is no longer a mystery.

Greyson Cole is trending.

And not in a cute, “oh look, the creative introvert finally got his moment” kind of way.

No.

This is more the hungry, invasive, frothing kind of way.

The kind that treats human beings like content.

Like prey.

The headlines write themselves.

BILLIONAIRE RECLUSE REVEALED AS VIRAL LUMBERJACK ARTIST.

WHO IS GREYSON COLE?

THE WOMAN IN THE YELLOW DRESS—RICH FIANCÉE OR PUBLICITY STUNT?