Rough and Rugged: A Meet Me In Milwaukee Charity Anthology

Chapter One

Alex

“Alexandra Grimes! Is that an honest-to-God lumberjack?” Sophie’s voice reaches ear-splitting decibels. For the last ten minutes, she’s been flipping through the information displayed on my phone. Which she stole out of my hand.

“Can I have that back, please?” I beg. It’s embarrassing to be caught scrolling through the dating app I swore I was never going to download. All my friends are blissfully married, and they’ve been trying to set me up with their single friends since I moved here. I’ve sidestepped their efforts with lame excuses about not being ready for anything serious.

Yet here I am, scrolling through a dating app not known for focusing solely on hookups. This one has a reputation for lasting relationships and deeper connections.

“No way.” Her eyes are bugging out of her head, and I see the reflection of each picture she’s ogling as it flashes in her glasses. “You messaged him back, right?”

“Don’t you dare open those!” I lunge forward, my fingers barely pinching on the corner of my phone before Sophie scrambles backward, a triumphant grin splitting her cheeks.

“You totally did! Can I read them? Please?”

“No.” I hold my hand out, palm up. “Give me my phone.”

She lets out a little whine. “I need to live vicariously through you. I’m an old married woman.”

“You’re thirty-two.”

“And I’ve been married for eight years.”

To her high school sweetheart and love of her life. She’s not fooling me. “Phone.”

“All right, fine.” She slaps it into my palm. “But I need details.”

The eye roll is getting more difficult to suppress with each exaggerated whine from my best friend. “What would Alan say if I told him you were begging for details of my sex life?”

“OH MY GOD, YOU SLEPT WITH HIM?!”

I wince and clap my hands over my ears. Sorry. I see her mouthing the words.

“I have not slept with him.” We’ve just been messaging each other for weeks.

Sophie studies me, her smile fading into a look of shocked surprise. “You like him like him, don’t you?”

“I—” It’s silly to say that I more than like him. I might be a little obsessed with him. Except I’ve never met him. I’ve never spoken to him in person. There’ve been a few stilted phone calls, but those were limited because we both have crazy work schedules. “I think I do.”

Soft fingers squeeze around mine, and I lift my eyes to meet hers. “You know it’s okay to like someone, right? You’re allowed to be happy.”

Tears well up. I moved to Montana to escape an abusive relationship. Sophie was one of the first people I met here, and it was just dumb luck she taught in the same department as me. We’ve been teaching and collaborating with each other ever since. The last three years were some of the best in my life, working on our doctorates together, and becoming close friends. It was more than I ever hoped to find when I left Chicago.

“You know what makes me happy?” My smile is wobbly. “You and your constant encouragement to keep moving forward.”

“Well. That’s my job.” She folds my fingers around my cell phone. “Now, at least tell me he’s asked you out on a date?”

My foolish heart feels like it’s skipping around my chest, and I nod. “Next Saturday.”

“Thank God! I’m picking out your outfit since you’re hopeless.”

I laugh, feeling lighter than I have in years. “Deal. And just because he’s wearing a flannel shirt and standing in the forest doesn’t make him a lumberjack.”

Her eyebrow arches. “So, what does he do for a living?”

“He’s a hunting guide.” He’s sent me pictures of the little cabin he lives in. It’s near the Flathead River and Lolo National Forest.

“And does he know how to use an axe?” Sophie’s got that gleeful glint in her eyes again.

“I should tell Alan about this obsession of yours.”

“Oooo. You definitely should. Maybe suggest some situations I could stumble upon.” Her eyebrows waggle in suggestion. “But you’re avoiding my question. Does he know how to use an axe?”

A sigh escapes me. When she wants to, Sophie can be stubborn as an ox. “Yes, he knows how to use an axe, but he doesn’t chop down trees for a living. He just lives in a cabin and likes to go camping.”

“So he’s at least a lumbersnack?”

Fits of giggles erupt from both of us, and I gasp for air. “I’m never going to be able to look him in the eye.”