Page 5 of Property of the Woodsman

“One good book and I’m back on track, and the divorce made everything easier.”

She tilts her head to the side as though she doesn’t believe me. “I know you’re putting a brave face on, but I think you should talk to someone.”

“I am.” I twist toward the kitchen sink and run the water for a second before turning it off again. “I’m talking to you.”

“I mean someone who knows how to help. Doesn’t your livelihood depend on writing?”

“I’m okay.” I nod, knowing full well that I’m lying through my teeth. “I just have to get in the mood to write the best book I’ve ever written.”

“What gets you in the mood?” She leans against the counter as she talks and sips the dark roast I paid far too much for at the corner store.

“I don’t know anymore. That’s the problem. I used to feel like a different person when I was in my alter ego writer world. Now, I just feel like me, and I guess I don’t have much to say.” I’ve barely finished my sentence when I hear Atlas’ heavy weight on the stairs. I’m not sure why this makes me nervous, but suddenly, my stomach is churning.

It could be because Mabel is very opinionated, or maybe it’s because I know whatever this guy does or says is going to lead to a thousand more questions I don’t have the answer to.

“Walls all set.” Atlas steps toward me like he’s known me for ages, like we’ve been dating for years, like he’s used to greeting me with broad shoulders, a strong back, and a kiss. He wraps his arm around my waist and tugs me against his massive frame.

A moment later, his lips are on mine, warm and hot, as the scent of pine, cedar, and some other masculine scent surround me.

What the hell is happening?

I should struggle against his touch and pretend I don’t want this, but it feels so good to be pressed against his giant frame. It feels invigorating to have his warmth against me, his lips on mine, his rough touch across my skin.

A gentle hum echoes up my throat as he tugs me in tighter, the rough bulge in his jeans apparent as it presses against my stomach. When it begins to protrude, he pulls back with a groan, his gaze on mine like he wants me to know he’s interested.

“Have fun with your friends tonight. I’ll come by in the morning and we can catch up.” He kisses the top of my head and turns back, nodding toward Mabel. “Make sure you keep this one on her best behavior.”

Mabel smiles and glances toward me, but I don’t think she responds. I don’t know because I’m too busy having a panic attack to notice.

Seriously, my heart is going to pound straight out of my chest!

The second he’s out the door, Mabel glares at me. “Umm… if that comes with the fake boyfriend package, I see why you’re paying for it!”

“Yeah,” I lick my lips, the scent of his masculine pine still surrounding me, “it’s convincing.”

“Reed is going to be so jealous. Hell, I’m jealous and I actually want good things for you.” She steps down into the sunroom and folds her legs up onto the couch, coffee still in hand. “Are you worried this could all blow up in your face, though?”

“How so?”

“I don’t know. Any chance someone might recognize him?”

I hadn’t thought of that.

“Where’s he from?” She takes another sip of coffee.

I glance around at the house he grew up in. “Here.”

She nods, though I’m not sure she fully connects the dots. “So, he’s from Rugged Mountain?” Mabel shakes her head. “Just be careful. Everyone knows everyone in this town. That could totally blow up in your face.”

“I see what you’re saying. I’ll keep an eye out.”

“No, you won’t,” she groans playfully. “You’re still thinking about that kiss.”

My chest squeezes the second she says it. “Yeah, ‘cause clearly I’m desperate for human affection.”

“Does your handyman sex god package include,” she grins, “his package?”

My cheeks heat. “This isn’t prostitution!” I say with a chuckle, though I kind of wish it was. I’ve definitely spent triple what this is costing me on far less. “It’s a date. A deal. A favor. That’s all. We’re just showing up to the wedding, acting like we’re in love, and that’s the end of it.”