Page 6

His features are sharp and rugged, his ears pointed at the tips. He looks strong enough to toss logs—or wrestle bears, as I suggested yesterday—but the small lines in his green skin in the corners of his eyes suggest he smiles often.

He’s the most handsome man I’ve ever seen. I don’t know what possessed him to ask me out on this trip, but I’m not complaining.

“Morning,” I greet him as bubbly excitement erupts in my belly. “I see you took my request for lumberjack vibes seriously.”

He glances down at himself, as if that hadn’t even occurred to him, but when he glances back up, his smile is wicked. “We aim to please.”

Oh my.

I flush and wonder if I should leave my fleece sweater at home—just being around Bowen has me feeling warm all over.

He pushes away from his truck and reaches forward to take my bag from me. “Hey, Lainey. It’s good to see you.”

He leans in, and I step forward, accepting the hug.

Only he wasn’t going for a hug but a peck on my cheek, so I collide awkwardly with his chest, my arms going around him while he’s trying to lean down to press his cheek to mine.

“Oh God.” I jump back, mortified. “I’m so sorry.”

He catches my wrist and tugs me slowly toward him again. “Wait. You wanted a hug?”

I stand stock-still, not wanting to mess up again. “No, I just thought—I didn’t think you’d want to⁠—”

“Lainey. The truth.”

He squeezes my hand and waits until I meet his gaze. He’s not laughing at me like I thought he might be. He only waits, patient and calm, for me to get my shit together.

“Yeah.” I swallow and try again. “I wanted to hug you. Sorry for making it awkward.”

He bends down to deposit my duffel bag at his feet, then steps into my personal space. “I’d like that hug now, please.”

There it is, a glint of humor in his warm brown eyes. But he’s serious, too, about wanting me to embrace him, so…I do.

I lean in and press myself against him. My cheek rests on his chest because of how much taller he is, but we fit together so well. Tentatively, I wrap my arms around his waist and hold back a gasp at how solid, how thick he is.

Then Bowen moves, too. His arms come around my shoulders. One of his hands comes to rest between my shoulder blades, the other at the small of my back.

This isn’t how strangers hug.

But I can’t force myself to step away because it feels too good, too right, to be in his arms.

Instead of letting go, I tighten my hold on him—just for a moment, I tell myself.

But he tucks me tighter against him in response, and I melt, softening for him. I scrunch my eyes shut and just stay there, being held, as if we’ve done this a thousand times before, and he knows exactly how to comfort me.

I didn’t know I needed comforting, but his quiet strength seeps into me, soothing.

Finally, I clear my throat and step back. Bowen lets me go, but when I meet his eyes again, his gaze burns into me.

“That was a good hug,” I murmur.

He brushes his thumb over my cheek, a touch so fleeting it barely registers. “You can have one whenever you want.”

I bite the inside of my cheek before I demand another. It’s a dangerous offer. I could become addicted to feeling that safe and comfortable, and I don’t know if I should allow myself to be that relaxed around him. We barely know each other. We might discover after today’s hike that we’re completely different people, unsuited for each other.

But he feels so right…

He does. I wouldn’t be leaving for a hike in the woods with him if I got any indication that he’s not a good guy, or if we’d ever had complaints about him from any of the groups of tourists he led this summer.