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Authors: Penny Watson

BOOK: Lumberjack in Love
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“What? No recycling in the big city?”

Ami rolled her eyes. “Of course, we recycle. We’re just not as crazy about it as you are, mountain man.”

He reached out and brushed his fingers across the war paint on her cheeks. “Just crazy about a few other things, huh?”

Ami huffed. “I told you I was a big Celtics fan.” She picked up a half-eaten sandwich and tossed it into the garbage. “Sorry about the mess. I got distracted by the game. I promise to clean up.” She glanced at him with a sheepish expression.

“Did your ex-boyfriend share your love of the game?”

“Hell no. He…um…actually refused to go to any games with me.”

Marcus tipped up her chin. “Why was that?”

“He said I embarrassed him.” She looked down at her outfit and shrugged. “And that I was too enthusiastic. He hated it when I heckled the opposing team. Killjoy.”

Marcus leaned down to her eye level and smiled. “He sounds like a stick-in-the-mud. Good riddance.”

Ami shot him a grateful smile. “Would you like some home-made nachos? I made an extra batch, just for you.” She slid a platter of fully-loaded chips in front of him. “I used fresh chili peppers, scallions, olives, and tomatoes.”

Marcus took a bite and groaned. “Geez. You sure know how to cook. I’m starving. Thank you.”

She smiled.

“But we still need to lay down a few ground rules. Okay, Miss Leprechaun?”

Ami nodded.

“One, don’t trash my house.”

“Got it.”

“Two, glass bottles go into the glass bin, paper in the paper bin, cans in the can bin. Understand?”

“Got it.”

“Three, I have no idea how to take care of these plants. So I’ll need a tutorial.”

“Got it. I’ll be your teacher.” She leaned forward and whispered, “Word on the street is Miss Jordan gives extra credit points to lumberjacks.”

He trapped her against the counter-top. “No kidding.”

“Also, the plants are a thank-you in advance.”

“For what?”

“I have a job interview! I’m so excited. Doug talked to the Children’s Science Museum and they are interested in hiring me to do the landscaping for the new project. I was hoping you could show me your plans. I want to sketch some designs to show them on Friday.” She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him close. “Will you help me? Please?”

“That is
great
news, Ami. Congrats! Of course, I’ll help you. But I might require more than the foliage as a thank-you.” He pressed his hard-on against her and rubbed back and forth. “Especially after you trashed my place and dressed my dog in a leprechaun bandana.”

Ami giggled. “Henry is a Celts fan. He loved the game.” She wrapped her arms around his neck as he lifted her onto the counter.

Marcus kissed her. She tasted salty and sweet. Like the most delicious treat, his new favorite. Ami linked her legs around his back and stuck onto him like a spider monkey.

“Damn you, Jordan. You have really gotten under my skin.”

“And onto your skin,” she mumbled, as she humped the front of his pants. “Show me some wood, lumberjack.”

They celebrated the Celtics win in grand fashion, on his kitchen floor.

Go Team Vermont.

Lumberjack In Love

 

 

Ami sat on the front steps of her sister’s house, waiting for Marcus to show up in his truck. They were going on a “field trip” before they started working on her designs. She had no clue what that meant, but she hoped it wasn’t to a sex shop. Frankly, her girly parts needed a short break. The lumberjack was like an addiction she was powerless to control. Like chocolate cupcakes. And sequiny sweaters. And purchasing too many houseplants. She glanced down at her lap and smiled. Marcus was going to kill her when he saw the
Pellaea rotundifolia
. It would look great on his dining room table.

The beater truck pulled slowly into the driveway, and Marcus honked the horn. He rolled down his window and leaned outside. “Jordan! I thought I told you no more houseplants!”

She stood up and smiled. “I know. But this was on sale, and you need a focal point for your dining room table.” She jiggled the plant at him.

He blew out a breath. “Last one. I mean it.”

She nodded and held up a hand in mock oath. “Okay. I swear. Last one.”

Marcus narrowed his eyes. “You’re totally lying, aren’t you?”

Ami giggled. “Yeah. I’m lying. So, where are we going for our field trip today, mountain man?”

“Why don’t you get Natty and Doug and Rachel? They can come along, too. It’s a surprise.”

“So, obviously we’re not going to a sex shop, if the kid’s invited.”

Marcus laughed. “Oh, my kinky city girl. Did you have something special in mind?”

“Uh, no. I was trying to guess what our destination would be. Let me see if my family is good to go.” She ran up the porch steps, flung upon the front door, and screamed, “Hey! Is anyone interested in going on a secret field trip with Marcus?” Five minutes later, an enthusiastic group including her sister, brother-in-law, niece and even the three Labs were packed into two cars heading along a country road. Henry rested his squishy face on her lap. He moaned as she rubbed the top of his head.

“So, where are we going?” She grabbed onto the door handle as they flew over a particularly bad frost heave. “I think I’m going to have to upgrade my bras if I stay any longer in Vermont during mud season. These roads are crazy.”

Marcus shot her a look. “I like your bras. The lacy ones. Keep those. The roads will get better in a month.” He pulled the truck into a lot next to the elementary school and parked next to a huge play structure. “Here we are. A Marcus Anderson Original Playhouse. I thought you might like to see one of my designs in 3-D instead of on the paper. I think it will help you with your own sketches.”

Ami gasped. “Oh my God! This is adorable, Marcus. I love it.” She climbed out of the truck and stared in awe at the multi-level all wood structure. Rope bridges connected a myriad funky houses. The whole thing was elevated about six feet off the ground. There were ladders to climb, ropes to swing from, and precious hide-aways in nooks and crannies. Natty and the dogs ran to the playhouse, with Doug and Rachel following close behind.

“How do you do this?” Ami walked to one of the ladders and ran her fingers over the silky smooth wood. “Is this all done by hand?”

Marcus chuckled. “Some of it I do by hand, especially notching and hewing the rough-cut timber. But I also have a wood-working studio next to the cabin. It’s fully outfitted with power tools. Depends on the project.”

Natalie climbed up the side of one house and disappeared over the roof. “Is that safe?”

“Of course. I have the roofs angled close to one hundred eighty degrees, so the kids can easily climb over them and jump through the windows, too. This is all about climbing, exploring, having fun. That’s why it’s not too high.”

Curly, Moe, and Larry ran across one of the rope bridges and dashed into a hexagonal tower. Henry ambled along behind them. Four furry tails wagged through the doorway.

“Okay, I realize this is what you Vermonters like to call ‘mud season,’ which as far as I can tell is another way to say ‘bitterly cold, muddy nightmare,’ but I am totally imagining a full, lush, colorful garden all over this place.” She turned to him and held out her hand. He reached for her and tugged her forward. Dear God, she loved the feel of that huge, rough hand touching her.

“This is enchanting. The towers, the rope bridges, the different levels,” she said softly. “I’m impressed. You have a wonderful vision. It’s charming.”

He leaned over and kissed her. “And manly. Building stuff is manly, right?”

Ami laughed. “Oh yes. Extremely manly. And whimsical. And fun. I cannot wait to see what you have planned for the museum project.”

Marcus waved to Natty and Rachel at the top of the highest tower. Her niece looked cute as a button in a pair of denim overalls, with her glossy braids swinging through the air. Ami sighed as Nat giggled and flung herself into Rachel’s arms.
It must be incredible to feel your child hold you like that.

Marcus slid his arm around her waist. “You okay, Jordan? You just got a wistful look on your face. You want me to build you your own tree house or something?”

Ami leaned into his side and inhaled the fresh scent of man. “Uh, no. Sometimes my biological clock threatens to explode like a ticking bomb, that’s all. Rachel is so lucky. Nat is a doll. Doug adores them. Don’t mind me, I’m just wishing my laundry pile was filled with boxer shorts and Cinderella T-shirts. I’ll get over it.”

“Why do you have to get over it,” Marcus asked gently. “Sounds like a nice dream to me.”

Ami glanced up, shocked at his intense expression. “Well, you know what happens when I try to stick to my five-year plan. The house, the kids, the garden…”

“The plants, the Celtics knick-knacks, the colored-pencil collection,” Marcus finished. “I think your plan sounds great. A home filled with kids and noise and Larry Bird bobble-heads. What’s not to like?”

Ami stared up into Marcus’s face. A pang of emotion jolted her. The kind of pang that sort of felt like indigestion, but was really a flutter. One of those “Oh-‌hell-‌I-‌think-‌I’m-‌falling-‌hopelessly-‌in-‌love-‌with-‌a-‌sexy-‌charming-‌talented-‌lumberjack” flutters. She swallowed and took a step back.

Marcus didn’t notice. Doug had yelled at him to join the “guys’ team” since he was chasing Natty and getting nowhere. Marcus scrambled up the ladder and threatened the “princess” in the tower. Natalie squealed and pulled the shutters closed on her hide-away.

“Hey sis, you okay? You look pale.” Rachel jumped down from the lowest level with a worried look on her face. She reached a hand up to feel Ami’s forehead. “No fever.”

Ami swatted her hand away. “I’m not eight years old, sis. I’m fine.”

Marcus’s delectable form clambered to the top of the tower.

“You’re right,” Rachel said. “His ass does look really good in those jeans.”

“Rachel. I think I’m in trouble.” Ami bit her lip.

“Oh, sweetie. Stop fighting it. He’s fabulous.”

“You knew, didn’t you? That’s why you sent me up to his cabin that day.”

Rachel nodded. “I knew. I had a feeling about the two of you. It’s time for a change, sweetheart. Someone with integrity. Someone who’s got your back.” She paused. “Someone with an awesome ass.”

“I need to focus on my landscape plan for Friday. My relationship with Marcus needs to be professional. Purely professional. I’m not even sure I could live here.”

“But you’ll consider it, right? The job could be an incredible opportunity for you.” Rachel grabbed her shoulders and shook. “Don’t turn up your nose at this just because it’s not in Boston.”

“I’m not. This museum is top-notch. I would be foolish not to consider it,” Ami sighed.

Marcus’s laughter rang out as he and Doug followed the dogs down the rope bridge.

Rachel linked hands with Ami. “You’d be foolish not to consider a lot of things.”

Ami ignored the flutter in her chest. There was no way, absolutely no way, she was going to fall in love with a lumberjack.

Marcus leaned against the counter at Bill and Bob’s and watched Ami Jordan‌—‌prissy city girl‌—‌charm the pants off Old Man Griffin. The wily old codger was a son-of-a-bitch who liked to dump dog feces on his guilty neighbors’ lawns. He also blackened his house on Halloween night to avoid treat-or-treaters. On more than one occasion, Marcus had seen him swipe candy from a baby. But today he stood mesmerized before the world’s most insane Celtics fan, indulging her complaints about the wine selection at the general store.

Marcus knew, without a doubt in his mind, that Old Man Griffin understood jack shit about wine. He preferred wine-in-a-box, and only if that was on sale. But here he was, puffed up like a rooster, giving Ami his undivided attention. And sneaking peeks down the front of her shirt.

After playing at the school for an hour, Marcus offered to treat the whole McGuire family to some grub at the general store. Biscuits for the dogs, cookies for Natty, and cups of steaming hot cider for the grown-ups. Ami was acting strangely. She kept shooting him funny looks, then sighing. She’d been impressed with the playhouse, but obviously she was struggling with some other issues. Now she had a whole gaggle of horny old Vermonters standing around her, rallying her cause for better wine. Poor Bill. He was screwed.

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