Rescued by the Woodsman

by Parker, M. S.

  By the time I boarded the plane, I was in a dark mood, tucking myself into the first class seat I’d been assigned. When the airline attendant offered me wine, I asked how much, managing not to gape when she told me it was free. I asked for rum and coke instead. It was too early to drink, but right then, I didn’t care.

  Jal Lindstrom hadn't struck me as the kind of guy who’d leave an engagement ring behind by accident. He didn't look like a man who ever did anything by accident. I was sure his life was carefully planned and controlled, down to the last detail.

  Once we were in the air and I could retrieve my purse from where I'd tucked it between my feet, I pulled out the box, wanting to study the ring a little more closely. Heaven knew I'd never get this close to something like this again.

  It was big and sparkly, beautiful and elegant without being ostentatious. Not surprising, really. Jal had struck me as the sort of guy who wouldn’t worry about showy displays to impress others. He simply did it by existing. By that slow smile and the way he walked, the way he held himself. Everything about him breathed money. Money he'd been born into as well as earned.

  I knew the type.

  I avoided the type.

  And now I was flying in luxury on a ticket he paid for to return a ring to him…so he could propose to the sort of woman who would look at this ring as being no less than what she deserved.

  Snapping the box closed, I started to put it away, but the attendant appeared at my side, drink in hand.

  “Thank you.” I smiled at her and settled back, still holding the box.

  I clutched it tighter as I sipped at my drink and stared out the window. After I called Tao earlier, I’d called my mother’s work and had one of the women there take a message since the company didn't have a TTY machine. In a way, it'd been a relief not having to deal with her reaction right away. I knew I’d be in for an interrogation once I got home, but as long as she knew TJ was taken care of, she wouldn't be too mad.

  I closed my eyes and rubbed my forehead. I was starting to get a headache. Even though she trusted Tao with TJ, I knew Mom wouldn’t be happy that I'd gone off to New York, even if it wasn't some fun little trip rather than business.

  And it was business. Strictly business.

  I wasn’t going there for a tryst with Jal, no matter how much I'd enjoyed his flirtations. Or his eyes. Or his smile. Or his long fingers.

  Stop it!

  Mentally kicking myself for even thinking about a customer that way, I lifted the glass to my lips, took another sip. Just business. I’d get a nice, fat bonus for doing nothing but relaxing in first class. I’d been assured I’d have a hotel room available if I chose not to fly straight back tonight, and my meals would all be covered. I planned on flying straight back, but basically, I was getting paid to be a gopher, and getting paid well.

  It could've been worse.

  * * *

  It was a short flight, but that didn’t keep me from ordering a second rum and coke, or enjoying the excellent snacks they offered first class passengers. The brownie brittle was something I could get addicted to. When I told the attendant, she rolled her eyes and said, “Tell me about it. Sometimes, it’s all I can do not to eat five or six bags.”

  After she left, I absently flipped open the jewelry box I still hadn’t put away.

  I didn't know what drove me to do it, but I found myself sliding the ring onto my finger. Just to see what it looked like.

  The lights hit it, flashing up at me. “It’s a miracle people don’t go blind wearing bling like this,” I muttered. Someone with a real job couldn't wear something like this. It'd be a safety hazard for sure.

  Still, I wondered what it would be like, having a man go down on bended knee and offer me a ring like this. To have a man love me that much.

  “Wow. I didn’t see that earlier. Congratulations.”

  I blinked, looking up at the attendant.

  “I take it you’re still getting used to it?”

  Oh, shit…she thought the ring was mine.

  Well, no shit, moron! You’re wearing it!

  My face flamed. “Um, yeah. Very much so.” I gave her a nervous smile. “I had no idea it was coming, you know? Just surprised the hell out of me.”

  “That’s so sweet.”

  The genuine smile on her face made me feel even worse than I already did, and I hurriedly passed her my trash, relieved when a voice announced that we were beginning our initial descent. Soon we wouldn’t be able to chat, and I could put this all behind me.

  I waited until everybody was told to put their tables up and the attendant was off to make sure everyone complied before I went to take the ring off. I didn’t want her to see.

  Tugging at the ring, I told myself I deserved to feel bad for being so juvenile. What sort of woman tried on another woman's engagement ring?

  And it wasn't budging.

  Oh, shit!

  Shit!

  All throughout the descent and the slow, tedious trip up to the gate, I tugged and twisted on the ring. Tears burned my eyelids, and I only kept them back by telling myself that if I made a scene, people would know how incredibly stupid I'd been. Finally, I made myself stop. My finger was swollen, getting sore now and the more I kept it up, the harder it would be.

  What would my mother do?

  Smack me for being so stupid. That made me smile a little, and that helped me start to calm down. I needed to think instead of panicking. If my finger was swelling, I needed to get the swelling down. Having an active and accident-prone little brother had taught me that cold brought down swelling. I didn't have access to ice or anything like that – unless I wanted to ask an attendant if there was any I could have – so I needed to figure out the next-best thing.

  Water. That might help ease the ring off too.

  Having a plan in mind helped me settle down, and I disembarked with a placid smile for the airline attendant, then made a beeline for the nearest bathroom, ignoring the sign with my name plastered on it. At least I wouldn't have to try to explain needing a bathroom after getting off a plane.

  Inside the restroom, I held my hand under the water, making it as cold as I could get it.

  “Getting cold feet, huh?”

  Looking over, I saw a cute brunette with pink hair eying me. “Ah…yeah. Damn straight.”

  “Try using soap. It'll work better than just water.”

  “Thanks.” I reached for some soap and slicked it over my finger and the ring. When it came off with ridiculous ease, I breathed a sigh of relief. I turned to thank her again, but she was already gone.

  I dried the ring off, examining it closely to make sure there wasn't any soap residue on the shiny surfaces. Then I returned it to the box and secured it in my purse. I took a deep breath, gave myself a look in the mirror to ensure I didn't look as frazzled as I felt, then exited the restroom.

  I adjusted Jal's coat over my arm and walked straight toward the man holding the sign with my name. “Hello. I'm Allie Dodds.”

  7

  Jal

  It was past noon.

  I’d heard back from the owner of the salon earlier that morning. Allie had agreed to bring me the ring, he’d said. There had been an unusual amount of relief in his voice, so much so that it made me think he’d doubted if she’d do it at all.

  Had he doubted?

  I hadn’t.

  Maybe I should have.

  Regardless, she was on her way. My driver had texted me right before he left the airport to let me know they were en route. He also mentioned that she’d asked if he could bring me the ring so she could catch a return flight right away. He'd told her that those hadn't been his instructions, so she'd relented.

  I had to admit, I was puzzled that she’d asked. What woman turned down a free trip to New York? All expenses paid, including a hotel room where she could stay the night. All of that, plus a hefty sum for the trouble.

  While it should've made me annoyed that I couldn't figure her out, I found myself intrigued in
stead.

  The business lunch I’d just finished had gone as well as I could expect, but it wasn’t over yet. The company I was dealing with was going to require some hardball. That was fine with me. People tended to look at me and either think I’d be as laid back as my father was, or that I was too young to really be much threat. They were wrong on both counts. The meeting had also served to keep me from thinking about Allie too much, but now that it was over, I couldn't keep her off my mind.

  My phone rang.

  “Hello?”

  “The young lady is here and is on her way, sir.” It was the concierge.

  “Excellent. And the food?”

  “Already on the way.” Even as he said it, the doors in the back swung open, and two men dressed all in black save for spotless white aprons emerged, bearing dishes. They were followed by more men who cleared away the steaming trays leftover by the lunch that had been enjoyed, or picked over, depending on the mood of those in the meeting.

  My table was cleared in moments, and two new place settings were put down. I hadn’t eaten anything during my meeting. I rarely did anyway, and I’d planned on sharing a meal with Allie. Just as the last server swept out of the room, the doors at the front of the small, intimate dining room opened.

  Allie stood there, one hand resting on the door, the other in front of her, holding my coat. I'd actually forgotten that I'd left it too, even though the ring had been in the pocket.

  I got to my feet, the gesture so ingrained in me it was automatic.

  Her eyes sought me out, and she inclined her head. “Hello, Mr. Lindstrom.”

  There was no smile on her face.

  I didn’t smile at her either. I was too busy trying to catch my breath.

  She really was that beautiful.

  Smooth dusky skin, the color of coffee with just the right amount of creamer. Pale green eyes that all but glowed, and a full mouth that had me hungering for things I had no business wanting at all.

  She glanced around, the look on her face full of cool disdain. She wasn't impressed by her surroundings or the lengths I'd taken to see her again.

  It was that look that goaded me into moving. Taking a step forward, I said, “Thank you for bringing my coat.”

  “And the engagement ring,” she added in a taciturn voice.

  “Of course.” I stepped aside and gestured to the table. “I was about to have some lunch. Business meetings have tied me up most of the morning. I imagine the flight ate up most of yours. Are you hungry?”

  “You imagine the flight took up most of my morning?” She tucked her tongue against her cheek, looking like she wanted to add something else, but good manners kept her from doing so. “Sure. I could eat. The snacks they offer on first class might satisfy the sweet tooth, but they aren't filling.”

  She came toward me, still holding the coat and when she stopped in front of me, I stayed where I was, a little uncertain what it was she wanted.

  Finally, a faint smile cracked her face. “You’re standing in front of both seats.”

  “Oh. Of course.” I held out my hand for my overcoat, wondering just what in the hell was wrong with me. This woman did weird things to my head.

  Once she’d passed the coat over, I stepped aside, carelessly slinging the coat she’d so meticulously folded over the back of a chair at a nearby table. She’d already sat by the time I’d turned, ready to pull her chair out for her. She was studying the food in front of her critically, and just as I was about ready to tell her I could call the chef and have him make her something else, she used the fork to cut into the light, flaky fish and popped a bite in her mouth.

  “Hmmm.” She made a humming noise in the back of her throat as she chewed. After she’d swallowed, she shot me a smile. “Not as good as what my mom makes, but it'll do. Have you tried yours?”

  As I hadn’t even sat down, it was pretty obvious I hadn’t, but I took the not-so-subtle hint to quit towering over her. By the time I’d spread my napkin in my lap and taken the first bite, she was already through half the fish and had tried the potatoes and broccoli.

  “It’s over-cooked,” she said with a shrug. “But overall, the food is pretty decent.”

  I was about to call her on the broccoli – there was no way a place like this didn't serve perfection.

  Except the broccoli was a little overcooked.

  My mouth tightened, but she caught sight of me and laughed. “It’s just broccoli.”

  I could have pointed out that I’d ordered a meal expecting it to be perfect, but it seemed a little idiotic to make a fuss when she was sitting there laughing about it. I didn't want her to think I was petty. It was already pretty clear that she didn't think much of the elaborate display.

  “I suppose it could have been worse.” I scooped up a bite of the fish. It was succulent, cooked to perfection. That made me wonder just how good her mom's cooking was. “It could have been bad fish.”

  “Oh, puh-leeze.” She nipped up the last bite of potatoes. “Don’t even joke about that.”

  Leaning back in her chair, Allie studied me, and I found myself at a loss for words. Talking to women was easy for me. Or at least, it usually was, but I couldn't think of a thing to say to her. All of the usual smooth talk I used, the flattery and charm, none of it seemed right.

  She leaned forward, one elbow braced on the table. “Can I ask you something, Mr. Lindstrom?”

  I wished she'd call me Jal.

  “Absolutely.” She was closer now, and I thought about reaching over, stroking my fingers down her arm. Her skin looked incredibly soft. Just like her hair. I wanted to see it spread out on my pillow, see her spread out under me–

  “Why did you leave the engagement ring behind?”

  “What?” The question caught me off-guard, especially considering I was wondering just how lush those curves were under her jeans and simple blouse.

  “Your ring.” She propped her chin on her hand, her eyes dancing with something I couldn't name. “You left that ring in the salon, and I can’t help but think you did it on purpose.”

  I tried to summon up some sort of argument, but my mind was blank.

  She didn’t even seem to notice as she eased back and settled into her chair, that faint smile still curving her lips.

  “See, you just strike me as the kind of man who has all his ducks lined up. I bet you packed for this trip of yours several days ago, and you knew exactly which shirt you’d wear today and with which pair of pants. You’ve already planned what you’ll wear for tomorrow and probably the next day too. Your drawers and your socks all matched up just so. There’s nothing extra in your suitcase.” She paused, shook her head, and then continued, “No. Not a suitcase. A carry-on. It’s just a quick trip, I’m thinking, and you don’t want to waste time with luggage, so the carry-on was enough. You have only what you need.” Allie’s eyebrow rose, and she asked, “How close am I?”

  Damn. I stared at her. “Just about spot on.”

  “Okay, then. Why’d you leave the ring?”

  Now it was my turn to lean forward. “What makes you so sure I did? Just because I plan doesn't mean I'm not forgetful.”

  “Because a man like you isn’t the kind of man who’d leave an expensive and hopefully important engagement ring behind. Especially when it was in a coat he'd have missed as soon as he stepped outside.” She gave me a hard look. “Unless, of course, he had some ulterior motive.”

  She bent down and reached into her purse, pulling out the box that carried the ring. She placed it on the table. “So, what reason did you have for leaving it behind?”

  Instead of answering her, I picked it up and flipped it open, studying it. I’d only looked at it twice, once when it had been shown to me by my assistant after she'd bought it, and once yesterday morning, right before I left the house. I almost asked her what she thought of it. But when I opened my mouth, the question that came out was something entirely different.

  “Did you try it on?”

  I expecte
d another flippant reply, something snarky.

  Instead, her gaze slid away. “Excuse me?”

  Hmmm…interesting. I'd been waiting to get some sort of reaction from her since the moment she walked in, and now I had.

  “You heard me.” Smiling now, more comfortable that she wasn’t in control of the conversation, I leaned toward her. “Did you try it on?”

  “Oh, please.” She rolled her eyes and reached for her water. Her pretty mouth was damp when she lowered the glass, and I wanted to lick away the bead of moisture lingering on her lower lip, but she beat me to it.

  Damn if that didn't send my blood rushing straight south.

  “I can always have it checked for prints.” I studied the ring and flicked her another look.

  “If you so choose.” She gave me a droll look. “If you’re done with me, your highness, I’ve got a life to get back to.”

  Before she could stand up, I reached out a hand and covered hers with mine. “In such a hurry to be off? You’ve got the whole day off – with a nice bonus.”

  She tilted her head to the side, studying me. “The whole day off. Is that how you see it, Mr. Lindstrom?”

  “Well, you’re in New York…and you’re not working.”

  “No. I’m not working.” She made a deliberate show of tugging her phone from her purse and studying the time before looking at me. “It’s well after one. I’d be coming up on the end of my shift if I was at home.” After she put the phone back, she looked at me again. “I don’t suppose it occurred to you that maybe I might have responsibilities that don’t particularly…coincide with the plans you had for me when you set this little deal up.”

  Shooting for a grin, I shrugged. “I just needed the ring back, Allie. If you didn’t want the bonus…”

  “You made it more than clear that I was the one you wanted to bring it back.” She looked mildly annoyed now. “Which meant you didn't even stop to think about how any of this would affect me.”

  I’d gone and fucked up, and I hadn't even realized it.

  As she crossed one leg over the other, I thought back to the call I’d made to the salon. Had I been that guy? The one who talked over what anyone else had to say because I was so sure what I wanted was the most important thing?