Page 50 of Axe Marks the Spot

“That’s my uncle, or at least one of them.” She squints, clearly trying to see who’s in the driver’s seat. When they pull up, I know right away it’s not Fox. It’s a brown-haired man that I’ve never seen before. He leaves the truck running and gets out, walking briskly toward us. My first instinct is to step in front of Kas and protect her, but before I can, she’s running toward the guy.

“Uncle Nate!” She launches herself into his arms, and he grabs her with a chuckle. He hugs her before he places her on her feet and ruffles her hair. She bats his hand away, but a grin remains on her face.

“Sorry I’m a little late; I went to the other side of the park.”

“Where’s Mom?” Kas asks.

“She asked me to come get you since you were coming over later anyway.”

I study the interaction between the two and know they’re related without having to ask. They have the same brown eyes and facial features. Nathan is smiling, but while Kas was smiling a second ago, she isn’t now. “I don’t have a bag. I thought I was going home first.”

“I stopped and grabbed it before I picked you up. Your mom’s got you covered, even put a suit in there for playing in the stream later if you want.”

“Did you get my gaming headphones?”

“Like I would forget.”

Kas’s smile returns, but it’s not as bright as before. It’s clear to me—and by the way Nathan’s smile falters, it’s clear to him, too—that Kas wanted to go home. Guilt gnaws at my stomach, knowing I’m most likely the reason her mom obviously switched plans on her and sent her uncle to pick her up.

“Are you going to introduce me?” Nathan asks Kas.

“Oh, yeah! Uncle Nate, this is Logger Dane. He’s cool.”

Nathan walks the rest of the distance toward me, his eyes assessing in a way that reminds me of a wolf. He’s got a well-trimmed beard and tattoos marking his left forearm that look like a forest scene. I notice a tattooed band around his left finger with what looks to be the letters O U R S spelled out on his knuckles.

It doesn’t take a genius to put it all together. This is Fox and Morgan’s fiancé, the man she’s been wanting me to meet. He’s much shorter than me but built. His eyes are friendly yet calculating, much like mine.

“I’m Nathan, Lindsey’s brother. Nice to meet you.”

I take his extended hand, and we shake. His squeeze is firm, and the moment his eyes take in my appearance, studying the tattoos on my neck, I see a spark of recognition in his eyes. “I’m Dane,” I say.

He shakes my hand for another second before pulling back and shoving his hands in his jean pockets. He looks me up and down again, and I know what he’s going to say before he says it. “I think you know my partners, Fox and Morgan?”

I hold his eye contact and nod, not wavering or letting him know that he’s figured me out. By the way he keeps glancing at my tattoos and jawline, he knows who I am online.

It’s neither here nor there, but this again reminds me why, beyond my desire to be alone, I don’t interact much with people in town. My tattoos make it easy to figure out who I am if they’ve seen my Loopr account.

“I do. For a long time now.”

Nathan squints as if he’s attempting to read my mind.

“Uncle Nate, can we go? I’m hungry.”

Nathan shifts his gaze from me to his niece. “Yeah, Fox made some cinnamon rolls, and Morgan made a salad.”

“Gross.” Kas gags.

“It’s called balance,” he responds with a chuckle before turning his attention back to me. “I’m sure I’ll see you around again, Logger Dane. Thanks for waiting with her.”

The nickname is annoying coming from him, but I nod. “No problem. See you next week, Logger Kas.”

Kas’s cheeks tinge pink, and then she’s tugging Nathan toward the running truck. Once they’ve pulled away, I take out my phone and walk around the park to grab some loose items—like the rubber axes—that I’ll keep in my truck so they aren’t misplaced. The rest of the course will stay up for the month while we’re using it.

I stop in front of the pile of axes and look at the notifications on my phone. I have several from my clients with their check-ins but none from Lindsey.

My jaw clicks from the force of my grinding, and I exhale. My patience is thin, and I don’t like it. I told her to message me when she had an answer for me, and while my fingers demand to ask her for one right now, I’ve already given her an order. It was my fault I didn’t specify when I wanted her answer.

Time to exercise my patience.