Page 79 of Jealous Lumberjack

The knot in my chest swells when I glance up at him. “They’re just curious. It’s fine…” Not entirely sure if I’m trying to convince him. Or me.

But I’m sure he doesn’t see the way some people look at him with curiosity instead of fear. Doesn’t notice the nods of greeting from men in flannels or the shy smiles from women who clearly remember his glory days.

All he feels is the stares. All he hears are the whispers.

So I squeeze his hand. And each time, his fingers flex and his jaw ticks, like I’m the only thing keeping him tethered.

We find a picnic table tucked near the edge of the food stalls, away from the loudest crowd. I sit right on his thigh, back pressed to his chest, and he wraps his arms around me like a shield.

We share a funnel cake, powdered sugar dusting my lips.

He watches me lick it off, his eyes burning and his leg bouncing like he’s one second from hauling me behind theFerris wheel.

I laugh and feed him another bite untilit’sall gone.

Ahot dogvendor rolls past. “You want more food, petal?”

When I nod, he snags one for me but he doesn’t eat this time. Instead, his feast is me, every second his mouth ghosts my hair, his jaw grazes my temple.

It should feel suffocating. But it doesn’t.

It feels like belonging.

“Knox?”

The voice cuts through the night.

I glance up to see one of the logging men I recognize from that day in the clearing. The one who’d smiled kindly, who hadn’t leered. The one who reminded him of the fair.

There’s a woman with him, his wife I’m presuming. She’s slight and pretty, with a curious expression as her gaze slides to me.

Bear stiffens, every inch of him coiling tighter, but he doesn’t shove them away. Not yet.

“Evening,” the man says easily, nodding once. “I thought that was you but I had to be sure. Glad you made it.”

Knox grunts something unintelligible as the woman’s eyes linger on me.

“I’m Stacy and you know my husband, Daniel. And you must be…” She tilts her head, waiting.

I stroke Bear’s jaw, feeling the twitch of his beard under my fingers, and give her a small smile. “Lily.” I don’t add anything else. Not where I’m from, not how we met. Noncommittal, safe.

Her eyes brighten anyway, soft with friendliness. “Well, Lily, I do hope we’ll see more of you. Ashbourne’s a lovely place. Everyone’s welcome.” Her gaze lingers on Knox for a few beats.

“Um, thanks,” I murmur, just as two young boys screech past.

Daniel grabs one and swings him around before setting him free.

Stacy smiles indulgently. “It’s also a wonderful place to raise a family,” she adds.

The word hits me like a pebble tossed into still water, sending ripples across my chest.

Before I can respond, her gaze catches on the edge of my shoulder where the neckline of my dress has slipped, revealing the faint shadow of a bruise. Her expression falters.

She murmurs something about needing to check the bake stall, tugs her husband’s arm, and hurries away.

Bear’s entire body goes rigid behind me.

“See?” His voice is gravel, low and bitter. “They think I’m a fucking monster.”