Page 10 of The Grouchy Lumberjack’s Bride

Oh, damn it all.

I do not need to get involved in this mess. I don’t want anything to do with whatever is going on here.

But then I look at Sasha and the tears in her eyes.

I know—everyone in town knows—that it’s been years since Courtney showed up in town. Years since she’s seen Sasha. That she walked away from her daughter and a sick husband and never looked back.

Everyone in town knows that. But not everyone in town knows what it feels like to be the daughter in that scenario.

I do, though.

My wild-child mother ran off to live her life and left me to live out my childhood with my elderly grandparents. She traveled around Europe doing who knows what with who knows who. Every once in a while, I catch sight of her on the arm of some rockstar in a gossip magazine.

Shit like that messes with your head.

So when Sasha asks for a favor, what do I say?

“Anything,” I say quickly. “What do you need?”

Now, she looks ready to cry. She’s all trembling lips and damp eyes. “Thank you!” She throws her arms around me and hugs me so tight. And then whispers, “Just follow my lead.”

She pulls me over to the booth where Cain and Courtney are facing off in time for me to hear the words, “Single man” and “not fit.”

Before I can put two and two together and come up with a romance trope, Sasha pushes me forward and says, “But he’s not single! He and Jade are engaged!”

“Well, isn’t that convenient,” Courtney sneers.

I go all in when I commit to something, so I climb onto Cain’s lap without another thought. “You know our history, Courtney. It can’t be that surprising.” I run my hands under his hair along the nape of his neck and swear I hear a low growl at my touch.

Maybe he’s warning me off so I don’t go too far.

His arms band around my hips, and he nuzzles the side of my face. “People in town have been saying for years that Jade and I are inevitable.”

“See?” Sasha says with a smirk that all tween girls seem to perfect before they’re officially teenagers.

Meanwhile, I’m regretting my current position. The actual physical one. Sitting on Cain’s lap with his big, muscly arms pressed to my front and his solid, muscly torso against my back. I’m surrounded by the feel of him, the sweet scent of his pancakes, and that warm, earthy smell that’s always been him. Like clothes dried in the sunshine.

“Well, how nice for you.” Courtney turns to Cain. “You’ll be hearing from my lawyer. Sasha, you want to give your mama a hug?”

Sasha looks to Cain.

“Up to you, princess,” he says, the deep baritone of his voice vibrating against my skin.

“Not right now. Thank you, though,” Sasha says, her voice as sweet as the homemade maple syrup coating their plates.

“Might want to work on her manners, Cain,” Courtney snips, then walks off.

The three of us wait until the door closes before any of us speak.

“I’m sorry I lied,” Sasha says, her eyes filling with tears.

“Don’t be silly, sweetie. It’s okay,” I say, scrambling off Cain’s lap.

I stay on his side of the booth and try to put space between us, but he’s manspreading, and the outer weight of his thigh rests against mine.

“Sash, give us a minute, will you? Why don’t you go up to the counter and ask Ruthie to pack up some slices of pie for later,” Cain says.

“Pancakes and pie?” she squeals. “This is the best day ever.”