My Surly Valentine (Hope Peak Valentine’s Day)

Chapter 3

3

HAZEL

T hank goodness I brought enough food for a couple of weeks. I didn’t think I’d be cooking for such a gigantic man.

Axton seemed to love the avocado toast and scrambled eggs I made for brunch – although I swear I heard him mutter “hipster food” when he first poked at the toast. But then it only took one bite for his eyes to light up. Whew.

It seems to surprise him every time he laughs with me. Maybe he’s been alone up here for a long time, and gets a bit squirrely in the winter.

I sit down at the kitchen table with a fresh coffee and my laptop and spend several hours sinking into my project.

At some point, I reach out and realize my mug has quietly been refilled. I jerk my chin up to stare across to where Axton is sprawled on the bed with his laptop. He’s very quiet. Strange that such a huge guy would move so silently, like a panther.

Some time later, I stand up to start dinner, rolling my shoulders to release the awkward knots of tension.

“Doesn’t look like you move enough when you’re working.” My eyes jump to Axton’s as he studies me. I’ve noticed him doing that a lot as he watches me cook and move around his space. It doesn’t feel creepy, more like he’s curious. “Sit back down for a minute.”

I settle back at the laptop, and he comes over and boosts it two inches with a thick philosophy textbook. Then he arranges a thick woolen sweater around the back of the chair, to provide a bit of cushioning when I lean back.

“I didn’t want to disturb you when you were so obviously in the zone. But if you continue working like that, eventually you’re going to break something.”

Sitting up straight, I roll my shoulders a few more times. “I’m sure you’re right. I’ll try to remember to shift around.”

His hands land gently on my shoulders. “May I?”

“Sure.”

To anyone watching, they would see a man with strong hands giving a three-minute shoulder massage. To me, it feels like I’m melting into a puddle. Somehow Axton knows every single pressure point to unlock my tense muscles.

Once everything is relaxed into place, he spends another few minutes running his thumbs gently up the back of my neck. He’s still releasing the tension, but there’s something else in his touch…something closer to a caress. I find myself leaning back into it, never wanting him to stop.

It was the same when he was holding me so close early this morning. Having these huge, warm hands on me is awakening lust in me, dark and heavy, every time I let it consume my mind for more than a split second.

“Better?” He gives me a friendly clap on the shoulder, as if we were…crap…old buddies.

“Much better. Thank you.”

I make a light lunch, pushing aside his offers of help. A few bites in, he gives me a look. “This is amazing, Hazel. Thank you.”

“Thank you for sharing your space.”

Axton seems to be staring at my mouth a lot. If anyone else did that, I’d feel self-conscious. With him, I find myself licking my lips and taking small bites in the most enticing way possible. The thought of him kissing me sends a prickle up the back of my spine that refuses to go away.

“So, what do you do, besides read a lot?” I ask. “And fix motorcycles.”

“This and that.” His eyebrow raises, then he sighs. “I have a workshop where I’m learning woodworking. Turns out I’m quite good at making sturdy, comfortable chairs. Twice a year I rent a bigger truck and run them out to my Aunt Lindsay, who upholsters them and sells them in her shop.”

“Hey, people always need chairs.”

He nods. “The antique bikes are slow work. Oh, and I shoot pool with some guys in a bike club. That keeps me entertained a few times a summer.” Axton straightens up and regards me. “How about you? Care to tell me what you’re running from?” His eyes meet mine. “Maybe I can help.”

I decide I might as well just spit it out. “My father fancies himself an important businessman. And I mean, fair, he owns a couple of companies, but he likes to pretend he’s way higher up the food chain than he actually is, you know what I mean?”

Axton grunts. “Yeah.”

“He also seems to think that he owns me.” My fingers tighten on the table. “Some of his competitors have daughters who are running around dating so-called unsuitable guys. Dad thinks that if I get married as soon as possible to someone who is suitable, it will make him look super traditional, and therefore stable.”

I can’t read Axton’s expression, so I just continue. “More specifically, he wants me to marry his chief business associate’s son, and lock their two companies together. He had it in his head that we’d click at New Year’s. We…didn’t.”

He snorts. “What, the guy wasn’t pretty enough for you?”

“Oh my God.” I can’t stifle my giggle. “I can barely remember what he looks like, even though we’ve met at least six or seven times.” I involuntarily shudder. “He’s also completely full of himself. It makes my skin crawl.”

“What’s this Romeo’s name?”

My eyes roll. “Fern. Fern Crawford.”

“ Fern? Like the plant? Isn’t that a girl’s name?”

“It’s short for Ferdinand. His grandfather’s name.”

I’ve heard Axton chuckle several times, with a few half-laughs thrown in. This time his head falls back as he roars with laughter, actually slapping the table. “Fern. Your pompous daddy wants to set you up with some pasty little thing called Fern ? What the actual hell?”

I join him, laughing so hard I tear up. “I know. It’s the worst.”

“Where is your mother in all this?”

My laughter fades. “Mom doesn’t stand up to Dad. She’s… Well, she just doesn’t.”

“Shit. I’m sorry.” His fingers drum on the table. “Wait. Your dad tried to push you two together at New Year’s. Does that mean he’s expecting Valentine’s Day fireworks this week?”

“How’d you guess?” I snap my fingers and point at him with a dramatic flourish. “Another reason why I literally headed for the hills and ended up at the wrong cabin in Hope Peak.”

He smirks, shaking his head before digging back into his chicken and broccoli rice. Just then his phone rings shrilly, making me jump. “Shit,” he mutters, rushing to grab it from the charger. “That’s the ring tone for the rescue team. I’m not really part of the group, but sometimes they call if they need an extra pair of hands. If there’s anything you want from the grocery store, can you write me a list quick?” He’s already pulling on a thick sweatshirt and warm socks, bringing my attention back to his graceful, muscular body.

I grab a scrap of paper and jot down a few things to make some of the better meals I know I’m good at. “I thought we weren’t supposed to be driving in this weather.”

“You, not me.” He takes the list from me, a strange, muted smile in his eyes. “My truck is a beast in the snow. They probably need guidance near the ski resort from someone who knows the area well.”

He tugs on a heavy coat and a black knit cap as I try to keep the worry out of my expression. He pauses at the door, stopping to write down his number for me.

“I know you don’t know me well enough to trust me, Hazel.” His low voice is rich and gravelly. “But I’d never abandon you here. I promise, I’ll be back in a few hours. Text me so I have your number.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

I want to run to him to give him a hug goodbye. To feel more of the tenderness I felt in his arms last night. Instead, I just add, “Stay warm.”

Axton closes the door tightly behind him, then I hear the roar of a large truck starting up. I peer out the window as he drives easily down the hill. Holy geez. My car would be sliding all over the place.

It’s very kind of him to allow me to stay and to be so sweet about it. Maybe it’s wrong for me to feel waves of desire every time our eyes meet. To fantasize about him holding me. To wonder if I could somehow…get him to do it again?

I mean, I’m out here in Hope Peak to get a handle on my new life, not just my new job. Getting down and dirty with a huge, sexy mountain man would definitely be a good start on the road toward my goal.