Page 5 of Jealous Lumberjack

The sound rips through the trees, straight into my chest, and I feel it detonate inside me. Raw, terrified, and yet…God help me, it’s the most beautiful sound I’ve heard in years.

I tighten my grip on the axe, fighting the urge to throw it aside and grab her. She’s dangling just above my head. It’ll be no trouble at all to lean up, give in to the urge to sink my face into her neck, and breathe her down whole.

Eight years on this mountain, and I thought I’d buried every craving.

One look at her, one sound from her throat, and I’m feral all over again.

She dangles there, breathing hard. The rope bites deep into the curve of her calf and wisps of the yellow dress flutter in the mountain breeze like she’s some kind of wildflower caught in my snare.

And I just…watch.

Eight years up here, I thought I’d seen it all. Deer. Bears. The occasional dumbass hunter who thought my “No Trespassing” signs were a suggestion. But never anything this beautiful. This breathtaking.

Christ, she looks like…an impossible dream. The kind you feel in your bones will disappear if you so much as blink.

She twists again, trying to look at me. “Who are you? Let me down!”

Her voice is high, sharp, but underneath it there’s something else.

Fascination, maybe. Curiosity. It flickers in those big green eyes, even as fear tries to drown it.

I take another slow step closer. “You’ll tell me who the hell you are first.”

Her chin lifts, defiant even though she’s helpless, upside down in my trap. “No. I don’t owe you anything.”

Fuck. The nerve. The fire. Most people beg. Cry. She bites. I feel my mouth twitch, an almost-smile I bury quick.

I circle her like I used to circle men in the ring—steady, relentless.

“This is Eagle’s Crown. My land. Nobody crosses it. Not unless they’re looking for trouble.”

Her lips press together. Her fear’s real—her pulse beats frantic in her throat—but she doesn’t break or plead. She just stares at me like she’s trying to read the monster whose trap she’s caught in.

“Why are you here?” My voice comes out harsher than I mean, but it’s better this way. Fear keeps people honest.

She swallows, eyes darting around as her fingers grip her dress. “I—I got lost.”

“Lie.” I step closer, enough that more of my shadow covers her. Enough to see more of the flesh she’s unconsciously baring to my ravenous eyes with her fidgeting. “Try again.”

Her mouth works, no sound coming at first. Then, “I don’t have to explain myself to you!”

That spark. God help me, I like it. More than I should.

But then I see it—red streaking down her shin, dripping into the pine needles. The rope’s cut into her smooth, beautiful skin.

Something twists in my gut, sharp and brutal. A sound rips from my chest, half-growl, half-snarl. Before I know it, I’m on her, cutting the rope with the axe head, catching her in one arm before she crashes to the ground.

She’s small in my arms, tucked into my side. Fragile. Warm. Too warm. I lay her down on the dirt, careful but quick, my breath ragged.

She blinks up at me with those huge eyes.

From this angle I must look like a monstrous beast looming over her, blocking the sky. She curls in on herself, but her gaze doesn’t leave mine. Fear. Fascination. Defiance—all tangled together.

Then fear takes supremacy and she starts scrambling back.

“Stay,” I growl.

She keeps going.