Page 2 of Denim & Diamonds

“It’s a long story. But I have a board of directors at my company, and there’s this dumb morality clause in my contract and… Let’s just say this is my punishment for doing something stupid.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. But it sounds like you’re in deep shit.”

I laughed. Maybe I needed the mental health timeout more than I wanted to admit. “How far away from Sierra are we?”

“About a mile.”

“Oh good.” I gulped back the rest of my coffee. “I should get going.”

“I’ll give you a ride.”

“It’s okay. I can walk if you just point me in the right direction.”

He looked down at the boots I’d slept in—the cute, knee-high leather ones with chunky four-inch heels. “ I’ll drive you.”

Okay then .

Brock’s apartment was on the second floor. When we got down to street level and stepped outside, I realized where we were. “You live above the bar?”

“Yep.”

“Well, that’s convenient to get to work.”

There were two pickup trucks parked in the driveway on the side of the brick building. Both had decals that read Hawkins Log Cabins . Brock opened the passenger door on the bigger of the two trucks and offered a hand to help me get in.

“Thank you.”

The temperature had really dropped overnight, and I only had on a flimsy silk dress. Brock got in, started the truck, and noticed me shivering. He peeled off his flannel and held it out to me. “Truck’s diesel. Takes a minute for the heat to warm when it first starts.”

I waved him off. “It’s okay.”

“Lean forward.”

Not sure why, but I followed his instruction. Brock wrapped his flannel around my shoulders. It was warm from his body heat and felt good, so I slipped my arms into it. “Thank you.”

“Yep.”

“Do you work for a company that builds log cabins during the day?”

He shifted the truck into reverse and backed out of the driveway. “Own it.”

“I thought you said you owned the bar?”

“I do. Also own the grocery store in town and the laundromat.”

“That’s a weird combination of businesses.”

He shrugged. “Economy went to shit a few years back, so the logging mill in town closed down. No work meant no cash to spend in the grocery store or laundromat, so those closed down, too. I had a little bit of money I didn’t need from an inheritance, so I bought what I could to help people get back to work. ”

“That was very noble.”

“It’s a small town. Everyone helps each other.”

“That does not happen in Manhattan.”

“And that’s one of the many reasons I’ve never been there.”

“You’ve never been to the City? But you live in Maine, and it’s only a ten-hour drive or a two-hour flight.”

He shrugged. A few minutes later, we pulled up to the entrance of Sierra Wellness Center. There were some people milling around out front, so I ducked.

“Do you think you can drive around to the back of the building? That’s where my room is. Maybe people will see this truck and just assume you’re doing some work here.”

Brock waved as he drove up the long driveway.

“Who are you saying hello to?” I asked.

“Fuck if I know. Not even quite sure how the hell I got roped into keeping you at my apartment.”

“Roped in?” I felt offended. “I’m sorry if I was such a hassle.”

He looked over at me. “You were.”

“How was I a hassle?”

“You play shitty music, wouldn’t tell me where you lived to take you home, and I had to carry you up the stairs where you proceeded to snore the entire night.”

I did snore. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh. ” The truck made a turn, and Brock slowed to a stop. “The coast is clear from the coppers. You can get up from down there now. ”

“Thank you.”

Of course the ladder I’d used to climb out last night was no longer there.

I looked around for something—anything—nearby to use to climb in.

But it was just us and a shitload of trees fifty feet away.

I nibbled on my fingernail. “Do you think you can pull up to that third window? Maybe I can reach it if I stand in the bed of the truck.”

“That’s not going to work.”

“Well, do you have a better solution?”

He mumbled something under his breath that I didn’t catch, but pulled the truck next to the third window. We both got out and looked up.

“Shoot,” I said. “It’s too high. This isn’t going to work.”

“I seem to have heard that somewhere before.”

I put my hands on my hips. “You don’t have to be so cocky about it.”

Brock shook his head and walked around to the back of his truck. He lowered the rear gate and climbed up, then extended one hand and pointed to the bumper with the other. “Put your foot on there, and I’ll pull you up.”

“But I’m still not going to be able to reach the window.”

“Just do it.”

My foot had barely touched the bumper when Brock hoisted me into the bed. He walked over near my window and kneeled down on one knee. “Get on my shoulders. I’ll lift you.”

“Are you sure? I’m not as light as I look.”

“I lift logs bigger than you all day long. ”

“Okay…”

Brock held out a hand, and I climbed up to sit on his shoulders, trying to be as ladylike as I could while wearing a dress. But once I was on, he didn’t move. “Am I too heavy?”

“Nope.”

“Are you afraid you’re going to fall?”

“Nope.”

“So why aren’t you moving?”

He cleared his throat. “Are you…not wearing underwear?”

Oh.

My.

God.

I wanted to die. I’d completely forgotten that I had taken off my pee-peed underwear earlier in the bathroom. Here I was, legs over this man’s shoulders with my vagina pressed against the back of his neck. I started to swing my leg off to get down, but he gripped my ankle.

“We made it this far. Might as well finish.”

I covered my face. “I seriously want to die right now.”

Before I could say anything else, Brock climbed to his feet. I wobbled but stayed on. “Go ahead,” he said. “Stand on my shoulders, and you should be able to reach.”

“Do you promise not to look up?”

“I managed to not turn around and bury my face between your legs, so I think we’re in the clear.”

Oh my. That gave me a visual. Me facing the other way, my legs dangling down big, burly lumberjack Brock’s back, while he buried his face in me…

“Anytime now,” Brock grumbled .

“Oh—right.”

Luckily, my window was still open, and when I stood on his shoulders, it was easy enough to climb in. After, I stuck my head back outside. “Thank you for…everything.”

He chuckled. “Take care, Red.”

I stayed at the window and watched Brock the burly lumberjack get back into his truck.

As it pulled away, I felt oddly sad. Though people here had to be looking for me by now, so I grabbed a change of clothes from the drawer and ran into the bathroom to get dressed, only to realize I was still wearing Brock’s flannel.

It wasn’t even off when someone knocked at my room door. Shit . “I’ll be out in a minute!”

I finished changing as fast as I could, then scooped all the clothes from the bathroom floor and opened the cabinet under the sink.

As I tossed everything inside, something dropped to the floor.

A little book. My dress didn’t have pockets, so it must’ve come from Brock’s flannel.

I reached for it and thumbed to the first page.

“Oh…this is interesting.”