Once Upon a Lumberjack
Maggie Dallen
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Epilogue
About the Author
One
There’s no such thing as too much caffeine.
Kat’s words from earlier in the day came back to haunt her as she shuffled down the eerily silent halls of the lodge.
Steve the bartender had tried to warn her, but had she listened? Nope. Not her.
Too much caffeine? Ha! There’s no such thing as too much caffeine.
She scowled at an enormous painting of an elk as she turned a corner leading to the main hall with its overstuffed, ridiculously comfy leather chairs and the large fireplace. The walls were lined with dead animal heads and more paintings of elk and antelope and other beady-eyed animals that seemed to be watching her as she made the walk of shame.
Coffee shame. She hadn’t even known such a thing existed. She shook her head as she padded along in her slippers. So cocky. So arrogant. Steve had tried to warn her.
She really should have listened to Steve.
No doubt the lodge's bartender had loads of experience with bored city dwellers who thought they could handle their java. You sure you want one more cup? he'd asked.
Fill 'er up, she'd said.
Now she cursed her former self. Her naively optimistic former self who thought she could have just one more cup of coffee and fall asleep at a reasonable hour.
She'd flown to the sun, that was for sure. The sun being coffee. Obviously.
Now here she was, paying the price. She should have been asleep hours ago, but instead she was roaming the lodge's hallways like some sort of over-caffeinated ghost, her eyes gritty and her head pounding as the rest of her body prepared to run a marathon.
If Steve had really been her pal, he could have lied. He could have said they’d run out of beans. He could have swapped out her last cup with decaf.
She sighed as she spotted a glow spilling out from the doorway to the lounge. It was well past midnight and the rest of her colleagues were no doubt fast asleep, but at least the lounge was still open.
The least Steve could do now was give her some aspirin.
She stopped short when she reached the dimly lit bar with its pretty backlit liquor bottles, its cozy booths, and the long oak bar itself. Behind which stood a man.
A hot man.
No, hot wasn’t accurate enough. There was something about him that made him seem…dashing. But not in a Hollywood playboy way. No. This guy was dashing in a rugged way.
He was a dashingly rugged man, she silently amended.
He had dark hair that was just a little overgrown, and the sort of creases and indentations that gave a man’s face character and took him from handsome to oh-holy-cow-he-should-be-modeling-underwear-on-a-Times-Square-billboard.
Yeah, he had that kind of face, with the dimples and the cleft in his chin. Sexy as sin and she had a feeling he knew it by the easy confidence in his every move. He managed to pull off a plaid flannel shirt and jeans like a perfectly tailored tux.
He was the lumberjack of every woman’s wildest dreams. All muscles and manliness. She was pretty sure she could smell the scent of evergreens wafting from him, like he’d just walked back inside after chopping down a tree.
He was Paul Bunyan meets Clark Gable. He was…too much.
The crinkles around his eyes when he smiled was really just overkill. Almost too much sexy when aimed in her direction.
She knew this because he was smiling at her right now. Whether it was her lack of sleep or the late hour or the excess caffeine still coursing through her veins, she found herself blurting out the first words that popped into her head. “You’re not Steve.”
That made his smile widen and she was fairly certain that smile deserved a cape and some sort of insignia. He was a freakin’ superhero with that smile. But he wasn’t Steve, the pleasant young man who’d been refilling her mug all afternoon. Steve had been nice-looking in a very average sort of way.
No one had ever accused Steve of being dashingly rugged, of that she was certain.
The caped crusader pointed a finger in her direction. “And you’re not Rhonda.”
Kat grinned as she continued into the bar and plopped down at one of the empty seats. It was almost impossible not to return that smile. “You are correct. I am not Rhonda.” She rested her elbows on the bar and made herself comfortable. “Who’s Rhonda?”
He tossed a bar rag over his shoulder and leaned over the bar too. “She’s the night manager who usually comes in here and locks up for the night.”
“Ah,” she said. “Nope, sorry. Not Rhonda. I’m just a guest here.”
“What can I get for you, not-Rhonda?”
Oh man. Had he meant for that to come out all low and sexy or was it just wishful thinking? She cast a quick glance in the mirror behind the bar.
Probably wishful thinking.
She’d been tossing and turning in bed for an hour before finally giving up the quest for sleep and heading out to the bar. Her blonde curls were a disheveled mess and she was wearing flannel pajama bottoms and a T-shirt.
She had a feeling even if she gussied herself up with makeup and the perfect blowout, she still wouldn’t be up to this guy’s standards. A guy like this probably dated the hottest of the hot, and while she would consider herself cute—maybe even pretty on a good day—no one ever insisted she should be modeling underwear on billboards.
Somehow knowing that put her at ease. There was no one to impress here. Just a fun, flirty new server. She grinned at him—that she could do.
“I came here to see if you guys had any aspirin back there, but I’m tempted to have a drink instead. A glass of wine might chill me out.” She gave him a questioning look. “Unless you’re closing up for the night?”
His grin widened and unless she was losing her mind, she was fairly certain his gaze warmed as his eyes narrowed on her like she was prey. He held up a drink that he must have been hiding behind the bar. “I’m just getting started. Red or white?”
“Red.” She watched him grab a glass and took the opportunity to ogle to her heart’s content.
This guy was utterly ogle-able.
“Can’t sleep?” he asked her when he handed her the glass.
He leaned over the bar again and his gaze was so warm, so affectionate, so…intense. Like she was the only person on the planet and he had all the time in the world for her.
It was more invigorating than caffeine.
She sighed. “I told a lie today.”
Whoa. Where had that come from? She hadn’t exactly intended for the hottie bartender to become her confessor, but there it was. His gaze was that powerful.
His eyes took on a mischievous glint as he wagged his eyebrows. “Do tell.”
She let out a sound that was half sigh, half laugh. What was she doing? Oh yeah, just spilling her secrets to a relative stranger. No big whoop. But the stranger in question had such kind brown eyes and he was looking at her like she was the singular most interesting person in the world.
Also, she needed a friend. Her own friends were safely tucked away in their cozy apartments back in New York, which was what she’d planned on doing this weekend as well. They certainly weren’t roughing it in the middle of Nowhere, Montana for some stupid office retreat.
Not that this lodge was “roughing it” per se… but the hiking? The gun shooting? The fre
akin’ riding of horses?
No, thank you. This was the kind of event she’d pay money not to attend.
But her hottie bartender was waiting for her to continue so she found herself spilling her guts. “I told my boss that I sprained my ankle,” she said in a mock whisper.
He nodded sagely. “Uh huh. And why did you do that?”
She dropped the whisper as she shrugged and took a sip. Mmm, delicious. “So I wouldn’t have to ride a stupid freakin’ horse.”
His brows shot up. She shouldn’t have been surprised by his surprise. Everyone here seemed to think horses were the best thing since sliced bread. Not that sliced bread was all that great, come to think of it.
She took another sip and shook her head. The whole world was bananas.
The bartender leaned forward and her attention was drawn to the flex of his muscles beneath the flannel shirt. She could so get used to flannel if everyone who wore it sported burly, sculpted biceps.
His voice held a note of laughter. “You told your boss you sprained your ankle to avoid riding a…” He used his fingers to do air quotes. “Stupid freakin’ horse.”
She nodded.
“And?” he prompted.
Ah. So clearly he didn’t see how that related to her current inability to sleep. She let out a small sigh. Silly man.
Leaning forward so far she was halfway over the bar, she smiled broadly. “So, I told them that yesterday and got out of the stupid horse riding. Instead, I stayed cooped up in my room and read my book.” Her grin grew smug. “Win-win.”
Really, she had been a winner. With zero Internet access and limited cell reception, it was impossible to get any work done. For the first time in forever she’d found herself with a period of guilt-free time where she literally could not work. Lying around a hotel room all day had been sweet bliss.
“Mmhmm.” He waved his hand in a gesture to continue.
“So today I said that it still hurt and managed to get out of yet another day of ridiculous bonding activities with my coworkers.” She managed to refrain from making a gagging face at the mention of her coworkers, but just barely. It wasn’t that she hated all her coworkers at the cable news station…just the ones who were here on this executive retreat.
Probably because they were executives. She was not an executive, at least not at the same high level as all these jerks, and they all knew it. She’d only been invited because she was the number one sales rep in the company.
Honestly, if she’d known this would be her big prize for being the best, she might have toned it down a bit.
No. Not really. She wasn’t capable of toning it down when it came to her job. She’d created a plan for herself a long time ago and had been steadily working her way up the corporate ladder ever since. The plan was all-encompassing—mainly focused on her career, but it took into account the fact that one day she might want to get married and have kids. So yeah, that was all part of the plan.
But she still had years to go before she reached that point in the plan, and right now she was solely focused on developing her career.
However, if she’d known that this would be her reward for salesperson of the year, she might have given herself an excuse beforehand so she wouldn’t have found herself spending her precious weekend hours hobnobbing with a bunch of dweebs with egos the size of that mountain outside.
The bartender’s lips were twitching with contained laughter and the sight was mesmerizing. “So, how exactly did that lead you to my bar tonight?”
My bar. She liked that. His easy confidence made her think of Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin. He had that old-school kind of charm.
When she was done grinning like an idiot, she gave her head a little shake, took another sip, and continued with her story. “The problem was, I finished my book yesterday while playing hooky.”
“Ah.” He nodded sagely as though he knew exactly where this was going.
She explained anyway with a sigh that was worthy of an Academy Award for all the angst it signified. “I should have brought my kindle.”
He nodded, his wince filled with understanding.
Finally having the time and leisure to read to her heart’s content but with none of the books from her TBR pile on hand? Torture. Sheer torture.
She sighed again. “Today, obviously, I was bored. Out of boredom I came out here to seek some company and…I found Steve.”
The hottie’s brows rose. “So that’s how you know Steve.”
She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. “Indeed.”
Steve had been the instigator of her bad behavior, the accomplice to her hooky day, and the supplier of her coffee refills. Plus, his girlfriend worked the night shift and had a veritable treasure trove of gossip magazines which he’d leant her.
Steve was the best.
But this guy. This not-Steve. She rested her cheek on her fist to better gaze upon his beauty. She liked him too.
He was smiling at her in a way that was far too knowing, but also strangely sweet. Like he knew her. Like they knew each other. Like they’d been great friends for ages and not just strangers who’d met in an empty bar this very night.
He moved to refill his own glass. “And the headache?”
She stared in confusion for a moment. Headache? What headache?
Then she sat up a little too quickly. Oh yeah, that one. “I had a little too much coffee—” Like three giant urns too many. “I couldn’t sleep so I figured I’d come out here and see if Steve had some aspirin.”
“Sorry, wine is the best I can offer,” he said, nodding toward her glass.
She wasn’t even halfway through her glass and she was riddled with guilt. It was a work night. She never drank when she had work in the morning. And even if that work merely meant being sociable over breakfast, it still counted as work.
It definitely wasn’t fun. This was a torturous work outing poorly disguised as some sort of vacation.
Ugh. Whoever thought traveling and mingling with one’s bosses was a vacation had a sick sense of fun.
The hottie surprised her by coming around to her side of the bar and perching on the stool beside her. “I have a secret for you.”
Her breathing stopped. Everything appealing about this man was magnified a million times over at this close proximity. It was too much. Sexy overload!
Luckily he didn’t seem to require a response. His smile grew as he lowered his voice. “This lodge has a library.”
She blinked at him. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting from those tempting lips. A proposition, maybe?
Definitely not tourist info.
Still, once the words sank in, excitement had her bouncing out of her chair. “Where? And why didn’t anyone tell me?” she demanded.
He shrugged and that made her scowl. Dang it, Steve. He’d really let her down.
Tugging on the bartender’s sleeve, she pulled him up and out of his chair. “Show me.”
He obliged. As she followed him through the dark, narrow halls of the lodge, she found herself grumbling at the sight of a moose head that was particularly disturbing. “I can’t believe I’m wasting precious weekend time here, of all places.”
“You don’t like the lodge?” He turned back so suddenly she walked into him and promptly bounced off his chest. She found herself staring at the solid rock of a chest in fascination. Holy muscles, Batman.
But seriously, this guy was hot. And the way he looked at her, like she was adorably wacky but also sensationally hot—which, she wasn’t—well, that look was enticing in and of itself.
When she managed to tear her eyes away from the muscles that filled out his shirt, she found that he was eyeing her in turn, giving her the same once over. She might have been offended that he was ogling her like a piece of meat if she hadn’t been caught doing the very same thing.
Besides, he clearly liked what he saw, mussed bedhead and all. And she liked that he liked it.
Her ego was having a field day.
; She gave him a slow, seductive smile as she leaned in closer to his heat and his amazing, earthy, soapy scent.
Oh yes, this was definitely a case of mutual admiration.
The hottie reached behind him and opened a door. He walked in backward, his gaze never leaving hers.
Oh heck, he was smoldering at her. She hadn’t even known that was a thing men did outside of the movies, but this guy did it well.
It almost felt like an invitation. Like she could just reach out and touch those big bulging arm muscles, or maybe lean in and—
“You never answered my question.”
Dragging her gaze up to meet his eyes, she saw that he was laughing down at her. His gaze was knowing and he wore a smug grin that was infinitely sexy and more than a little exasperating.
This guy knew he was irresistible. That should have been a turnoff, but it wasn’t. He had a striking confidence about him, with just a hint of arrogance. Not so much that he came across as smarmy and gross, but enough to give him an air of total competence.
His lips pulled up on one side so he was giving her a lopsided smile. “What don’t you like about the lodge?”
She bit back a sigh and made to move past him. Then she stopped, her eyes wide and her jaw going slack. “Whoa.”
This was heaven, surely. Every wall was covered in books right up to the vaulted ceiling. A fire crackled in the fireplace that was surrounded by a cozy couch and two leather chairs that looked like they were made for snuggling up with a mug of hot cocoa and a good book.
She crossed over to sink down onto the couch where she could tilt her head back and see the full extent of the library’s offerings. “I think I’m in love,” she sighed.
He gave a low chuckle as he sank into the couch beside her, his head resting beside hers. So close that if she turned her head—
“So, is it all lodges you despise or just this one?” he asked, his voice teasing.
Dang it, this guy seriously wanted to have a conversation and all she wanted to do was live in a fantasy land where his lips were destined to meet hers.
Once Upon a Lumberjack Page 1
