Page 76 of Jealous Lumberjack

My head jerks up.

Knox’s shadow fills the doorway, massive and immovable, eyes locked on me, then the bruise I was absently examining.

His face is tight, frantic with worry. “How bad did I hurt you, baby?”

His voice scrapes, low and panicked, like he’s watching me slip through his fingers.

I realize what he sees—me staring at my bruises, lost in thought. He thinks I hate them. He thinks I hate him.

I shoot up from the bed, reassuring words on my tongue, but they vanish when I notice the large blush-pink cardboard box in his arms.

“What’s that?”

His jaw clenches. “Answer me first.”

I glance at the marks again, then back at him, forcing a smile. “Oh, these? I was looking at them, thinking how much I’d love a few more.”

His eyes widen, feral disbelief sparking there. “You don’t mean that.”

“Don’t I?” I challenge, stepping closer.

“Petal…” His chest expands. He takes a lunging step toward me like he can’t stop himself.

I hold up a hand, pointing at the box. “Nuh uh. What’s in the box?”

For a second, something flickers across his face. Embarrassment? My Bear, bashful. Who knew? His fingers tighten on the cardboard.

He walks to the bed, sets it down gently, and straightens. “Open it.”

“What is it?”

His jaw shifts. “It’s yours.” The words come out gruff, almost defensive.

My heart squeezes, then thuds.

Slowly, I lift the lid, the delicate pink tissues.

Then a soft gasp leaves my throat.

Inside are three dresses. Not flashy or sequined nonsense. They’re simple, pretty things… soft fabrics in colors that flatter me.

One blue with white flowers. Another darker with red autumn leaves.

The last is the closest to the buttercup yellow I was wearing when he literally snared me.

Folded beside them are a pair of flats… and the cutest cowboy boots I’ve ever seen.

My throat closes.

“Saw you looking… when we were in town,” Knox mutters, the tops of his ears going red.

I gasp, holding up the first dusky blue cotton thing with a swingy skirt, and press it against my naked body. “You bought these for me?”

His nod is small, almost nervous.

“Oh, Bear.” My voice wobbles. But then the giddiness bursts out of me. I twirl, giggling, the dress bunched against my chest as the skirt flares. “Do I look pretty?” I tease, dancing across the room.

Knox’s gaze follows me, hot and unblinking. His eyes darken, his jaw grinds, and then he groans, rough and guttural.