Page 1 of No Axe to Grind (Ashwood Falls #1)
Tessa
I ’m practically bouncing in my seat as the plane lands, the icy peaks sliding past the window like jagged teeth.
My stomach is fizzing with butterflies and way too much airport coffee, my carry-on is stuffed with cupcakes that smell like vanilla and sugar, and my heart thrums with bright, reckless anticipation.
Six months from now, I’m marrying Kyle—my college sweetheart, the man I’ve been planning Pinterest boards and guest lists around.
Six months from now, he’ll be moving to Hibiscus Harbor with me, to sunshine and sand and palm trees and that quirky community that smells like saltwater and key lime pie, where I picture us walking hand in hand every evening.
Florida. Home.
I can’t imagine how anyone could live in Alaska, where the air hurts your face and snow lasts nine months of the year.
It’s too cold for human survival, in my opinion.
But Kyle insists he loves it here in Juneau.
His job, his friends, his routine. Fine.
I’ll give him one last winter fling with frostbite before he comes home with me for good.
At least his company is transferring him back to Florida.
I clutch the bakery box on my lap like it’s the crown jewels.
Twelve cupcakes, carefully frosted, tiny sugar seashells on top.
A taste of Florida to remind him where he belongs.
The plan: surprise him at work, kiss him breathless, then gloat about how I managed to sneak cupcakes past the TSA without losing a single sprinkle.
The cab pulls up to his building—a squat office tucked between warehouses on the edge of Ashwood Falls.
Snow crunches under my boots as I step out, breath puffing in frosty clouds.
I shiver, muttering, “Humans are not designed for this nonsense.” Then I square my shoulders, adjust my scarf, balance the cupcake box carefully, and push through the glass doors.
Inside, the air smells like stale printer ink and overcooked coffee. I head down the hall, grinning to myself, rehearsing the reveal. Surprise! Your fiancée just flew two thousand miles because she missed you. Surprise! You get cupcakes and kisses before dinner. Surprise!
I hear voices before I reach his office.
Low, urgent, punctuated by a sound that makes the back of my neck prickle.
I stop. Tilt my head. It takes me a second to place it, and my cheeks flame—oh my God, are two people actually having sex in here?
The thought makes me stumble a step, mortified, but I can't wait to share the gossip with Kyle.
I step closer. His office door is ajar, so I push it open with my free hand, smile ready.
And my smile dies immediately.
Kyle is bent over his desk. Shirt half-off.
Pants around his thighs. And he is most definitely not alone.
One of his coworkers—blonde, laughing, moaning—is beneath him, tangled up in him like they’ve been here before.
The awful realization slams into me—it’s Kyle and a blond bimbo making all the sounds I’d overheard.
My brain stutters, my stomach lurches, and my heart cracks open like thin ice.
The cupcakes slip from my hands. The box hits the carpet with a dull thud, lid popping open and cupcakes tumbling everywhere. Frosting smears across the floor in pastel streaks, sugar seashells crushed under the heel of a man who swore he loved me.
“Kyle?” My voice is thin, foreign. I want it to boom, to thunder, but instead it just breaks.
He looks up, meets my eyes, and doesn’t even stammer excuses, doesn’t chase me with apologies. He just shrugs, almost bored, like I caught him stapling papers instead of detonating our future life together.
“What are you doing here? It’s not what it looks like.” he says flatly as if I'm the one in the wrong here.
That’s it. No, ‘I’m sorry’. No, ‘Please wait’. Just annoyance, like my existence ruined his fun. “Right. Because when someone is clearly inside someone else, what it looks like is pretty much exactly what it is.”
Something inside me hardens. Tears sting, but anger rises faster. “Six months,” I whisper, voice shaking. “We’re supposed to be getting married in six months.”
He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t even look guilty.
My throat closes. My chest aches. But my feet move. I turn on my heel, leaving the cupcakes and the betrayal behind. My vision blurs as hot tears spill, freezing on my cheeks as I burst into the cold Alaskan air.
The snow bites, the wind howls, but nothing cuts deeper than the truth... the future I thought I had just shattered.
And I’m the idiot standing on the sidelines.