Once Upon a Lumberjack

by Maggie Dallen

  She ordered herself not to look and the result was the same.

  She wanted to look. She needed to look.

  At one point she found herself studying her coworker’s glasses a little too intently to see if she could spot him in the reflection.

  She could not. But Elaine, the Vice President of some department that wasn’t Kat’s, would probably assume she’d lost her mind. Or maybe she just assumed Kat had developed an uncanny knack for maintaining eye contact.

  So, yeah. Maybe she wasn’t handling this sudden revelation as well as could be expected. But how was she supposed to react?

  Even after some sleep and a bracing shower, she’d been disappointed this morning every time she’d thought about how she’d likely never see her new friend again. After all, she had no intention of visiting his bar again. And it wasn’t as though she’d run into him on her last day of bonding time with her work mates. So that was it. One night with her dream man, and now back to reality.

  Except that then he magically appeared. In the main hall. With Gary.

  And it turned out he wasn’t some random hottie bartender, but Bryce Dalton. Bryce. Dalton. He wasn’t famous famous—not like Richard Branson or Mark Zuckerberg or anything. The average person on the street wouldn’t recognize his name. Only people who regularly read the financial section of the paper would know the name. People like her. She knew it because she was a nerd when it came to the business world.

  Also, because his name had become kind of a buzz word among the executives in this awesome retreat group.

  In a lot of ways this weekend had brought back terrible, scarring memories from that time her parents had made her go to summer camp. There was one cool-kid group in particular that had always whispered amongst themselves and would stop talking whenever she drew near.

  That’s what some of the senior level executives had been doing for weeks before the trip and it had heightened to clicky camper levels over the weekend.

  The one name she’d caught when she overheard whispers?

  Bryce Dalton.

  And oh look, now he was here. In the flesh. The man of the hour.

  The man who’d kissed her last night. The man who’d seen her in her pajamas and with bedhead, for Pete’s sake. The man she’d opened her big mouth to and told all kinds of embarrassing things. Like how she hated her co-workers. Like how she was questioning her life choices.

  She bit her lip to hold back a groan as the woman she was talking to griped some more about the lack of snack selections on her office floor.

  It was too much. She didn’t know whether she should be angry or humiliated or what.

  But how could she be angry when she hadn’t asked his name or told him hers?

  But then, he knew she thought he was the bartender and he’d let her believe that.

  But what difference did it make? Would she have refrained from kissing him just because she recognized his name?

  Maybe.

  Probably not.

  Possibly?

  She definitely would have tried harder to keep her big mouth shut.

  The angry hurt feeling stuck around even as she helped herself to the delicious omelet the cook had set out. If she was being honest with herself, it wasn’t so much anger that had her stewing as it was humiliation.

  She hated the thought that he’d been laughing at her.

  She’d never liked feeling like the butt of a joke—and she hated it even more when the guy laughing at her was the same guy who’d kissed her senseless.

  “Could I have a word, please?”

  Shivers raced down her spine even as a liquid heat spread through her muscles. She managed to keep from spilling her plate full of food, but just barely.

  Sweet mercy. Even this guy’s voice was sexy. Even without the crinkling smile and the hard-as-a-rock chest, his voice alone was hot. He could do voiceovers. He should narrate romance audiobooks so she could listen to them late at night. He should—

  He cleared his throat and she realized that he was still standing behind her at the buffet line, waiting for an answer. Though, to the others who’d already started finding seats at the dining room table, it probably looked like he was checking out the breakfast options.

  Her mind raced with possibilities of what she could say. Screw you, along with a plate of omelet in his face? No. That would definitely lead to questions from her colleagues that she so did not want to answer. He might not be her boss or their boss or anyone’s boss, for that matter, but he was their host, and clearly a guy who her bosses and their bosses admired.

  AKA not a guy she should be cuddling in front of the fire. Definitely not a guy she should be kissing.

  Just look at the way Gary had fawned all over him. Gary was her boss’s boss and while he was always gregarious, she’d never seen him fawn before. Not like that. Not like he might fall to his knees at any moment and start licking the sexy lumberjack’s boots.

  She turned then, her head down so she could see his boots. Boots! As if he was just some humble sexy bartender here to serve and not the freakin’ billionaire owner of a mega-successful company that did who knew what. Just owned stuff, apparently. He cleared his throat again and she looked up.

  Clearing of throats should not be sexy.

  The fact that his was made her angry all over again. And then there were his eyes, and his little smile—one that said “aw shucks” and “oops, did I forget to tell you I own this joint?”—and his perfectly tousled dark hair, and the amazingly awesome five o’clock shadow which gave him just the right amount of rugged—

  “A word?” he asked, cutting into her mental tally of his delicious charms.

  She stared at him for a moment, keenly aware of her coworkers moving around her to reach the fruit that was spread out beside the yogurt. What an awkward place to be standing while facing the near-stranger who’d given her her first kiss since she’d broken up with her college boyfriend.

  He’d known it was coming. Her ex had been well aware of the plan.

  Bryce arched his brows, a not so subtle prompt for her to return to the present moment.

  Right. Bryce ‘the-best-kisser-in-the-world’ Dalton wanted to talk.

  But, much as the breakfast buffet was not ideal, she couldn’t fathom how she would explain peeling off from the crowd for a private tête-à-tête with the lodge owner and Gary’s new man-crush.

  Before she could come up with an appropriate, polite way of saying “buzz off, I’m at a work event and I’d rather not clue everyone in to the fact that I shared an intimate evening alone with you last night,” she was saved by an unlikely person. Todd. Unlikely in that she despised him so it was rather odd to feel relief when he stopped at her side, a little too close for comfort, as always.

  Todd could be in the next room and he would be too close for comfort.

  A schmarmy schmooze at the best of times, he was currently bedazzling Bryce with his too-white veneers. “Bryce, I see you’ve met my golden goose.”

  Kat held back a sigh, but just barely. She watched with some amusement as Bryce slowly, seemingly reluctantly, turned his gaze from her to her jerky boss. He not only didn’t return Todd’s smile, but he seemed to be studying him like he was a bug under a microscope. Ha! Her esteem for Bryce Dalton went up several notches.

  Not that she had a low opinion of him, exactly, but now she felt fairly positive she could add ‘good judge of character’ to his list of admirable traits.

  Todd, bless his heart, never seemed to understand how brash and condescending he came across to all normal human beings. He’d spent too long at the upper echelons of this company and was used to being surrounded by sycophants and friends.

  Kat assumed that was the reason he didn’t pick up on the social cues that Bryce was less than thrilled with his bravado. The way Todd managed to insinuate himself into the conversation and objectify her in one fell swoop was truly mind-blowing. Impressive really.

  Bryce’s voice was low and markedly less enthusiastic t
han Todd’s. “Of course I met her. You were there.” He gave Kat a look that said “is this guy for real?” before turning back to Todd. “Surely you remember, it was just minutes ago, right around the same time I met you.”

  Boom. And that was how it was done. Bryce managed to put Todd squarely in his place while also affirming to her that he had no desire to out her or their evening together.

  She bit back a laugh at Todd’s floundering response. “Oh, of course. That’s right.”

  Only problem was, Bryce sorely underestimated Todd’s obtuseness. Todd rallied quickly and with a vengeance. Snaking an arm around her shoulders, he pulled her against his side. It was a friendly gesture, not exactly inappropriate. If anyone ever uttered “sexual harassment” to HR, Kat supposed Todd could argue that he slung his arm around his male coworkers’ shoulders as well.

  He did, he was a toucher like that.

  But it still seemed slimy and gross. Not to mention patronizing since she was shorter than him so it kept her tucked to his side like a pet or a sidekick. At any moment she expected him to pat her on the head.

  Todd barreled ahead, apparently noting Bryce’s interest in Kat and wanting it for himself. Which pretty much summed up everything she hated about him as a boss. Every time she got credit, he was there to steal some of it for himself.

  As if this brash, ridiculous excuse for a human could sell anything to anyone. “Yes, sir. I asked Kat to come along as a reward for all her hard work this year.” He turned to look at her with a smarmy smile brimming with pride as if he was her father or something. “Our number one salesperson right here.”

  She couldn’t smile. Normally she would—he was her boss, after all. But being treated like a child in front of Bryce went beyond humiliating and right into cruel and unusual.

  She risked a glance in Bryce’s direction to see how he responded. To her surprise, his smile matched Todd’s. It was big, and fake as all getout. “So I’ve heard,” he said, his voice taking on a booming quality that mimicked Todd’s. Or mocked, rather. She could see the dark humor in his eyes clear as day and it was slightly terrifying.

  And also super attractive.

  But it would have scared the crap out of her if she was the subject of this barely concealed wrath. Yet Todd—ridiculous, dumb as a box of tacks, Todd—seemed oblivious to the fact.

  “In fact, that’s why I want to steal her away for a word in private,” he said, taking her by the arm and pulling her out from under Todd’s arm like she was a toy on the playground. “Or maybe I’m just going to steal her away, period. My company could use someone like her.” He gave Todd a wink for good measure.

  She didn’t see Todd’s expression but the fact that he didn’t respond was telling.

  Bryce didn’t drop his grip on her arm and she felt his touch all the way to her toes. He clearly had some magical chemistry about him. Maybe it was in his pheromones. Whatever it was, no one man should have so much of it.

  It wasn’t right. It shouldn’t be legal.

  Then he was steering her toward the door leading to the hallway. As it was, Todd could tell the others she was being taken off for a chat about her role at the company. If she tried to resist, it would only lead to questions.

  That was why she meekly followed along.

  Yeah, right. It had nothing to do with the fact that he smelled so dang good or the fact that he looked just as hot, if not hotter, in the cold light of day. And it certainly wasn’t because his anger on her behalf had made her heart trip over itself like it was jumping rope.

  Nope. She was just going along with this for appearances’ sake. She was a saint, basically. A martyr for her profession.

  She followed him down the hall, which made it impossible not to think about how she’d followed him the night before. “No wonder you knew about the library,” she muttered.

  It hadn’t particularly been for his ears but she saw him straighten in front of her and his pace picked up speed so they were nearly jogging to reach the door at the end. He ushered her inside and closed the door. “I’m sorry.”

  She blinked at him. The apology was so blunt and so…unexpected. Oh, she’d assumed he’d apologize, but not like that. She’d prepared herself for his excuses, his rationalizations. Just ‘I’m sorry’ caught her off guard.

  Her first impulse was to say “it’s okay.” But it wasn’t okay. Her pride was still stinging.

  But he’d apologized and she saw no rationalizations or justifications in sight.

  Crossing her arms, she took a deep breath and said the words that had been running through her mind since she’d spotted him in the main hall and figured out who he was. “Were you laughing at me?”

  He winced, his gaze softening with something unbearably close to pity.

  Oh crap. That hadn’t come out right. Her voice had been way too shaky, too weak, too vulnerable. That wasn’t her at all.

  He took a step toward her but she backed away. He already took up too much space in this office—which was beautiful, she noted absently. He was beautiful. He was wearing another plaid flannel shirt, blue and gray this time, and it did incredible things to his eyes. It turned them from smoky gray to steel. He still didn’t look the part of a mega-successful business owner and for that she resented him.

  He’d tricked her with those cowboy boots and the crinkly eyes and the five o’clock shadow. Crap, she was back to cataloguing his sexiness again.

  He stopped moving toward her, tucking his hands into his pockets. Possibly to try to seem less intimidating in this small space, but the effect was dangerous in a whole other way. She wasn’t intimidated by his size or his power, but she was scared to death that if he so much as crooked his finger she’d run to him. Leaping into his arms without so much as a howdy-do.

  Where is your pride, woman?

  “I wasn’t laughing at you.” His voice was quiet, low, and filled with so much sincerity it physically hurt. Her chest did a weird constricting move in response.

  She wanted to believe him. Unless he was the best liar on the planet, she probably should believe him. But it wasn’t quite enough. She raised her chin. “So why lie?”

  He grimaced and pulled one hand out of his pocket to scratch the back of his head. “I didn’t really lie. I mean, you didn’t seem to want to know my name and…”

  Apparently, her raised brow had the desired effect because he stopped that little speech before he even finished.

  “True,” she said. “That is all technically the truth. But I think you’re smart enough to realize that knowing you are the owner of Dalton Industries and friendly with my bosses might have had an effect on my behavior last night.”

  He winced again and she decided she hated that wince. It didn’t suit him. He had the air of someone who was used to being in control, and the role of apologetic and humble didn’t suit him.

  It was nice that he tried though.

  “Not to mention the fact that you own this place,” she continued. “Which makes you my host and—” She groaned as snippets of conversation came back to her. “And I totally insulted your place, didn’t I?”

  His lips started twitching like he was trying not to laugh and she narrowed her eyes. Not the time, buster. He got the message because he grew serious, though his voice still held a hint of laughter. “Yes. Consistently and creatively.”

  Now it was her turn to wince. “Sorry.”

  Wait, she wasn’t the one who was supposed to be apologizing here.

  “Don’t apologize.” He cocked his head to the side and gave her a smile that made her knees weak. “I had it coming.”

  “Yeah, you did.” But some of the anger had left her voice. Much as she tried, it was hard to keep up her anger in the face of his obvious guilt and also… his hotness.

  Dang it, this guy could get away with murder with those dimples.

  “But you still haven’t told me why you did it,” she said. “Or didn’t do it. Whatever. You know what I mean.”

  He studied her fo
r a while and his gaze was warm and tender. So unbelievably sweet. For a minute she thought he wasn’t going to answer, and when he did he might as well have punched her in the gut because it knocked the wind right out of her.

  “I like you.”

  Just like that. He said it so simply, so naturally. Like it was the most normal thing in the world.

  She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to respond. Most guys she knew played games—and games she could do. Banter she could handle. Sarcasm? Forget about it. But this utter sincerity?

  It was baffling.

  “You, uh…you like me?”

  His lips crooked up on one side in a way that did devastating things to those dimples. “I like you.”

  Okay then. There it was again. She shifted uncomfortably. Were her palms sweating? Because it felt like maybe they were sweating. Or itchy. She rubbed her hands against her jeans. “So, that’s your excuse?”

  Good. Yes. Let’s go with offense.

  He nodded, and she was both relieved and slightly terrified to note that his meek, humble act had given way to the laid-back confidence he’d had the night before. “That’s my excuse.” He held his hands out palms up as if he was laying it all out there for her. “I liked you from the moment you stepped into my bar. I liked your smile, I liked the way you talked, the way you made me laugh…” He grinned outright and her belly did a backflip. “And I guess it goes without saying that I liked the way you looked.”

  It may have gone without saying but she still liked that he’d said it. “You can say it again if you want,” she said.

  He laughed softly. Man, his laugh was nice. Low and kind of rumbly like a growl. Taking another step closer, he lowered his voice and reached his hand out for hers. “I like the way you look.”

  A laugh was bubbling up in her chest and her skin got that warm, tingly feeling. Her whole body was too sensitive. The air itself was chafing against her raw nerves. She looked down at his hand, extended toward her.

  Her lips tingled, a visceral memory of the way his lips had felt as they’d moved over hers last night.

  Last night. That’s what this was about. Taking a step back she fixed him with a look she hoped conveyed that she meant business.