Page 1 of The Grouchy Lumberjack’s Bride

chapter one

Jade

About a year ago…

I am in Hell.

I'm not gonna lie; it smells delicious. Feels even better wrapped around me.

I sneak a glance upward, and yep, this is definitely Hell.

Hell is dancing in the arms of the man who hates me. The man who used to be my best friend back when we were kids. Back before I ruined everything.

And now, here we are at the wedding reception for two friends, forced to dance together like Cain doesn’t hate me. The reception is being held in the backyard of the groom’s sister. It’s dusk, and the sprawling oaks are lit with enough fairy lights to supply an entire generation of tweenaged girls. The temporary dance floor is scattered with rose petals and sprigs of lavender.

So basically, everything is perfect for the first dance of a couple in love. And pure torture for a woman dancing with the man who was once her best friend/secret crush. Especially if that man now hates her.

I look at Cain from under my lashes to see him scowling at me. "You could try to look less like touching me makes you want to vomit."

Those indolent whiskey-colored eyes narrow at me. If eyes could smirk arrogantly, his do. "I know you like to be in charge, Jade, but try not to tell me what to do. Besides, this is my usual expression."

"Oh, I see. Now you have a resting vomit face. But only with me because I swear you smiled at Andrea Cooper.”

He quirks an eyebrow as if in question.

“Andrea Cooper, Cain! You hate her."

"I've been known to reassess my opinion of people based on their actions."

I roll my eyes and pretend his words don't hit their mark—stabbing me deep in the center of my heart. As if I needed the reminder.

I don’t.

Once, we were close. Two peas in a pod all through high school. And now he hates me because I did one little thing he can never forgive.

"I know you're never going to forgive me or whatever, but have you been there to see him recently? He's doing very well."

"Of course I have. He's my father."

I want to ask how it’s going. If things are the same between Cain and his father as the last time I saw them together. But the truth is, it's not my business. I gave up that right when I did what I did. I lost my best friend and my partner in crime.

And I’d do it all over again because it was the right choice.

I don’t regret my actions, but I resent the hell out of the consequences of those actions.

The weight of his huge palm pressed against my lower back as we dance seems like a tactile reminder of all I've lost. We've danced together many times—every school dance starting our sophomore year. Back then, we were as thick as thieves, and Cain volunteered as tribute to be my protector.

As far back as I can remember, I was told that boys would only want me for one thing—no, not that, which boys evidently didn’t want from me. No, they only wanted my money. That’s the shitty thing about growing up in a small town where everyone knows exactly how much your grandparents are worth. When everyone knows how much you’ll inherit someday. So, instead of dating like a regular teenage girl, I spent all my time hanging out with Cain. My best friend. My constant, brooding shadow. The one guy I could trust because I knew he wasn’t interested in me that way.

He'd been slightly smaller back then. Less of this looming giant with his long brown hair hanging loose about his boulder-sized shoulders. Less of the sharp glint in his eyes. He's always been a bit of a scowler, but there was a time I thought it was a playful and intentional smolder. I fancied I could see the glimmer of amusement in his eyes. That I alone saw the true Cain beneath the scowl.

Now, there’s no playful glint. No humor. Just an impervious wall of distrust.

"Well, this will all be over soon, and you can go back to hating me."

"Never said I hated you, Jade," he murmurs.

Him saying my name, all husky and deep and close to my ear, sends shivers of desire through my body. I squeeze my eyes shut lest I reveal my true feelings. I’ve held them close to my chest even though we haven’t been friends for years.