Ready To Fall

by Daisy Prescott

  “Wasn’t it about this time last year you had a house full?” I asked Maggie.

  “Good memory.” Her gaze drifted over to Gil. “I guess it’s our one year anniversary.”

  He kissed the back of her hand. “One year, plus twenty something.”

  Diane asked about the story and Maggie gave her the short version.

  “That’s so romantic. There must be something in the water here.” Her hand reached for mine under the table.

  “Must be all the fresh air,” I said, squeezing her hand back. Her blush told me she knew exactly what I meant. “Where’s the rest of the gang?”

  “The rest of them are off on other adventures,” Maggie said. “The Ben and Jo’s are on the Cape. And Selah’s on sabbatical. In Ghana.”

  “Is that what we’re still calling it?” Quinn asked.

  “It’s the official answer,” Maggie answered.

  I glanced between them. A bigger story was there. There always was with Maggie’s larger than life best friend.

  Diane asked the question on my mind. “Is she traveling alone?”

  Quinn’s smile and wink explained it all. “Selah’s never alone for long. She’s living her own personal Out of Africa.” He and Gil chuckled.

  Maggie gave them stern looks. “We’ll have to wait for her to get back next year to see what happens.”

  “Or maybe she’ll put it into one of her books. First pirates, then lumberjacks, sorry John, now Love: Missionary Style.” Quinn cracked himself up.

  “None taken,” I said.

  “Hush,” Maggie scolded, but couldn’t contain her laughter.

  I leaned back into my chair and extended my arm behind Diane. A year ago I’d been the odd man out when Maggie’s friends visited. With Diane by my side, all our lives were interwoven. Her friends and my friends had become our friends. It felt good to be part of the group. We were a family not by blood, but by choice.

  We made plans to visit the fair the next day. Discussions of which fried foods were our favorites and who would enter the pie eating contest followed.

  Pies, goats, 4H kids, and vomit inducing rides all had their charms, but something else at the fair appealed to me more.

  I had one last summer surprise for Diane.

  Loud beeping noises combined with a thrumming rattle underscored by the low hum of generators. The Island County Fair teemed with people while Diane and I strolled through rows of beeping, flashing, and blaring music of the midway. Behind us followed Maggie and gang.

  I teased Diane about the pie eating contest, waggling my eyebrows. Her cheeks pinked, but she ignored me, instead discussing the difference between funnel cakes and fried dough with Maggie.

  Our destination wasn’t the Tilt-a-Whirl or the Zipper. We were on a mission of a different sort. I asked Gil the time to make sure we weren’t late.

  The further we walked from the small midway the fair morphed back into its rural roots. Kids in neatly pressed 4H uniforms leaned against fences or led cows around rings. Hay and manure replaced the smell of fried everything. With Lizzy strapped to his chest, Quinn showed her the baby animals while Ryan snapped pictures of everything. I smiled at their enthusiasm.

  A pair of tall poles marked our arrival at the log show, a fair tradition. Donnely preened next to his latest eagle sculpture with spread wings. With a wave, he greeted us and went back to chatting up the women admiring his skills with a chainsaw.

  Diane stared up at me. Her eyes, wide with excitement, held a single question.

  I nodded.

  “You said you weren’t a real lumberjack.”

  “I did.”

  “You lied.”

  “I stretched the truth. The only lumberjacks who exist these days are in movies, books, and these sorts of competitions. I’m in logging, timber, forestry.”

  “But you eat pancakes and have Babe and … “

  I kissed her hard. “Don’t forget the boots and the beard.”

  She broke out into a grin and grazed her hand down my jaw. “And the beard.”

  I kissed her again and slowly dragged my cheek along her jaw. She moaned.

  “If you moan like that again, I won’t be able to concentrate. Not sure I can balance on a log with a hard-on.”

  “This is every fantasy I’ve ever had come true.”

  I ran my thumb over my bottom lip and quirked my eyebrow. “Every fantasy?”

  “Let me clarify, every lumberjack fantasy. Is it wrong I hope you fall and get all wet?”

  “You want me to fall into the water?”

  A devilish gleam lit up her eyes. She bit her lip and nodded her head.

  “You’re weird.”

  “But you love me.”

  “I do love you. And now I have some wood to saw, a pole to climb, and cold water to fall into for your amusement.”

  She gazed up at me with a swoony face I’d only seen in movies.

  I kissed her one last time, and dipped her back and low. I smiled at her surprise while I sauntered backwards toward the competition area where Donnely waited with my gear.

  “I love you, lumberjack.” Her voice carried over the crowd. Unfortunately, I wasn’t the only lumberjack around. Several burly men shouted their love back at her, including Donnely.

  Her cheeks reddened and she ducked her head down before she and the others climbed the small set of bleachers.

  Between my laughter and my own wood, there was no way I would able to concentrate.

  After changing into my cork boots, jeans frayed above the ankle, a gray T-shirt, and red suspenders, I looked the part at least.

  I ended up doing a spectacular backward fall off the log into the shallow pool of water. Not on purpose. Of course not.

  I shook out my wet hair and took off my shirt to wring it out while I waited for the log rolling to finish.

  As I stood there shirtless, I heard Diane’s cheers. They were the loudest by far; I had no idea she could whistle like that. I stood up straighter with my shoulders rolled back, and grinned.

  “Whipped.” Donnely coughed next to me.

  “Shut it.” I shoved him in the shoulder.

  My comeback in the chainsaw, axe, and speed climb rounds weren’t enough to recover from the dive I took in the pool. Didn’t matter. When it was all over and done, Diane jumped into my arms, wrapping her legs around my hips like I got crowned champion.

  She gave me a scorching kiss fit for a returning hero. In between kisses she said, “That. Was. The hottest. Thing. Ever. When the sawdust was flying around you? And your biceps bulged when you threw the axe? I thought I might pass out.”

  I kissed her again.

  “And the way your thighs looked so strong and manly climbing up the pole?”

  She kissed me and I lost myself in her. Standing there in the middle of the fair, wet jeans clinging to me, Diane wrapped around me, nothing else in the world mattered. I’d be a lumberjack if it made her happy. I’d do anything for this woman.

  Thank you to Melissa Ringstead at There for You Editing Services for tackling the edits on this project.

  Extra special thanks to my pre-readers Dianne, Heather, Kelly, Marla, and Suzie for reading, hand-holding, guidance, keeping me off the ledge, and swooning over John Day. Your input is invaluable.

  Thanks to Sarah Hansen at Okay Creations for another beautiful cover.

  Special gratitude for Heather Maven at The Book Trailer for the conversations that inspired me to write John Day’s story. If you enjoyed this book, be sure to thank her. Outdoor showers will never be the same.

  To the Lost Girls and the Lost Boys, your friendship means the world to me. My sanity would have disappeared long ago without you.

  To S L Scott, I’m happy to share a brain with you.

  A big thank you to Mr. Purvis, who went above and beyond with information related to all things fishing.

  For all the friends and fans I’ve met along the publishing path, thank you for your encouragement, love, and support.

&nbs
p; To my husband, thank you for everything. Including overlooking the Pekingese size dust bunnies when I’m writing or editing. Or any other time.

  To my extended family, for their cheerleading and unwavering support, especially my parents for always championing my dreams.

  And to all the bloggers, readers, fans, and fellow authors who are the very best part of this publishing adventure, the biggest thanks of all.

  Before writing full time, Daisy Prescott worked in the world of art, auctions, antiques, and home decor. She earned a degree in Art History from Mills College and endured a brief stint as a film theory graduate student at Tisch School of the Arts at NYU. Baker, art educator, antiques dealer, blue ribbon pie-maker, fangirl, freelance writer, gardener, wife, and pet mom are a few of the titles she’s acquired over the years.

  Born and raised in San Diego, Daisy currently lives in a real life Stars Hollow in the Boston suburbs with her husband and their dog, Hubbell, and an imaginary house goat. Her debut novel, Geoducks Are for Lovers, is a Romantic Comedy and Women’s Fiction Best Seller. She also writes randy pirotica under the pen name Suzette Marquis.

  To learn more about this author and her writing visit:

  www.daisyprescott.com

  Or find her on social media:

  Twitter: @daisy_prescott

  Facebook: www.facebook.com/DaisyPrescottAuthor

  Pinterest: www.pinterest.com/daisyprescott/

  In this Best Selling Romantic Comedy Reality Bites becomes The Big Chill when a group of Gen-X friends spend a summer weekend together sharing laughter, tears, life’s ups and downs, old stories, second chances, and new beginnings in this contemporary romance.

  “… I think life is better when you have love. Not a friendly neighbor or old friends kind of love either, but a love that causes your heart to race and your toes to curl.”

  Maggie Marrion is just getting back on her feet after a horrible year, or two, or three. With their twentieth reunion approaching, she invites four of her closest friends from college for a mini-reunion at her beach cabin on Whidbey Island. What she doesn’t expect is her best friends Selah and Quinn to play matchmaker. Will Maggie risk her heart and her quiet life for another chance at romance?

  Gil Morrow, former grunge musician turned history professor, joins them as Selah’s date for the weekend. With the support of old friends, a few wishing rocks, the world’s largest burrowing clam, and a hot lumberjack thrown into the mix, Gil reminds Maggie she isn’t too old to fall in love.

  Warm. Heartfelt. Original and engaging. This book was a breath of fresh air. ~Vilma’s Book Blog

  Daisy Prescott is a very gifted writer. ~The Book Bellas

  Geoducks may be for lovers, but this book is for everyone who believes or wants to believe in second chances and enduring love, hope and life-long friendship. I give Geoducks Are for Lovers 5 Stars! ~Dymps, The SubClubBooks

  If you are looking for a story about adults, without lots of angst, that when you are finished will just leave you feeling good about what you just read, then Geoducks Are for Lovers will be for you, silly name and all!! ~Maven, Love N. Books

  I can’t stop thinking about how much I smiled while reading this book! ~The Novel Tease

  I have to give a rousing 5 stars to Daisy Prescott’s Geoducks Are for Lovers. She really captures the state of the union for Gen X and also has fantastic characters and gorgeous scenery. Go read! ~Wick, Amazon Reviewer

  Available on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Independent Booksellers