Addicted to the Lumberjack (Sexy Lumbersnacks #11)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

Mateo

“I don’t have any more sweet treats, pretty girl.” The orange cat meowed as she made circles around my feet. I reached down and patted her head, as she rubbed her face along my fingers, her purrs loud and clear. “I’ll bring in some cans tomorrow. How’s that sound?”

I turned back to my work, bringing my hand sander over the gentle piece of wood. A few more strokes and this baby would be done.

Another beautiful masterpiece for my sister’s shop.

“Looking good there, bro.” Malia walked into my wood shop. Speak of the devil.

The orange kitty I’d affectionally named Tigger sauntered over to my sister like she was on a mission. She’d find out soon enough Malia didn’t keep the good treats around like I did.

“Thanks. Once I give it a couple of coats of varnish, it’s yours.”

“Great. We’ve had a lot of requests for more chairs. You should really think about doing custom orders.” Malia insisted for the millionth time. Man, I loved my sister, but when she got her mind set on something, she didn’t give up. Ever.

“You know my answer, sis.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You don’t want to lose the passion of it. But I’m telling you, you’d make a killing.”

I titled my head to the side and studied her. “We kind of don’t have to worry about that anymore, remember?”

“We do if we want my shop to stay open. I’m not letting it deplete our funds.”

“I know, I know. It won’t. Don’t worry.”

“You always say that. I can’t help but worry.”

I stood up from my bench and stretched. “Will you let me do the worrying for once?”

“You did while we were growing up, Mateo. It’s my turn.”

“Zebras don’t change their strips.” I retorted. Malia rolled her eyes. She hated stupid sayings, and I loved delivering them. “Did you bring lunch?” I smirked.

Malia rolled her eyes again. “Really? Is that all you see me as? Your food delivery service?”

“Sometimes, yeah.” I bent down and pet the two cats who strolled into my open shop. Stray cats were sort of the thing around here. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like it.

Malia looked as if she wanted to deck me in the face.

“I kid, I kid, relax, sis.” I laughed. “But how about you join me for dinner tonight? I have some ideas about custom orders.”

“Thank God! It’s a miracle!”

“Tread lightly there. I can still change my mind.”

“Okay, okay. But I actually came here to ask you something. And bring lunch. It’s in the kitchen.” Malia smirked.

“You’re a tease.” I brushed past her, my stomach growling already. “And whatever you want to ask, the answer is no,” I joked.

Malia followed me close behind, through the wood shop door and into the cabin. “No, it’s not.”

In the kitchen, I found sandwiches, chips, and sodas waiting for us and I washed my hands quickly, my stomach growling more as the minutes passed. “Thanks. I was starving.” I said as I sat on the stool at the kitchen island and dug in.

“You’re welcome. I have a friend I think you should go on a date with.” Malia said, no hesitancy in her voice.

I nearly choked on my ham and cheese. “What?”

“Yes. She comes into the shop often. I think she’ll be a great match for you.”

“Since when did I say I was interested in dating?”

“I just think it would be nice for you. You’ve always spent so much time focusing on me, worrying about me, making sure I’m okay.

But it’s time for you to focus on yourself.

And I know you have been since we left foster care, but not when it comes to your love life.

And you deserve love, Mateo. You deserve happiness. I know you want a family someday.”

I shot my sister a quizzical look. “Who the hell are you, and what have you done with my sister?”

She smiled as she sat down across from me and pulled her sandwich towards her. “I’m serious. I’ve felt this way for a while. I just hadn’t told you. I don’t want you to think I’m nagging. I’m so thankful for what you’ve done for me. I want to make sure you give yourself the same treatment.”

“Any brother would’ve done what I did. We had a shitty childhood, Malia.”

“I know.” She said softly before popping a chip into her mouth.

Growing up in foster care wasn’t easy. We saw a lot of shit, dealt with a lot of shit, but not once did I let Malia leave my side.

One time, they wanted to separate us, send us to different foster homes, but I put up such a fight, they ended up giving in and keeping us together.

If a family was abusive, I took the beatings.

If we had little food or clothes, I gave all of mine to Malia. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.

But when I aged out at eighteen, I inherited a wealthy sum of money from a distant eccentric uncle who passed away.

Malia filed for an emancipation, accepted her portion of the inheritance, and we bought our land, had two cabins built, complete with my workshop and her boutique shop featuring one-of-a-kind handmade pieces.

Our life had made a sharp turn for the better. The last thing I wanted was for something to change.

“That’s why I care so much about your happiness.”

“Thank you. If it means that much to you, I’ll take your friend out on a date.”

“You will?” Malia’s face lit up.

I chuckled. “Yeah, but you owe me one.”

“You got it. In fact, I’ll even pay for you to get a haircut.”

My mouth dropped in mock offensiveness. “Are you saying you don’t like my shaggy hair and messy, overgrown beard?”

“No, I don’t.” Malia didn’t care to tell me the truth. I loved that about her.

“Okay, deal. Make me an appointment.”

“Great. I’ll schedule one for later today. Is dinner tomorrow okay?”

“Yeah, it’s Friday and I can’t say I have plans.”

“I figured.” Malia chided with a laugh.

“You’re lucky I love you.” I teased.

“You have to love me.” Malia said and stuck out her tongue. “Now, be quiet while I make your hair appointment.”

Sure enough, Malia booked me an appointment at a salon in town later that day.

And when I sat down in the chair, all bushy and wild caveman like, the gorgeous, older woman took one look at me and smiled big and bright, as if it did not bother her one bit. I liked her already.

“Hi. I’m Zola. Nice to meet you. I take it you want to get cleaned up today?”

Her voice landed in my ears, and my heart sped up.

I gripped the sides of the chair.

Who is this woman?

And why am I having such a visceral reaction to her?

I ignored it, pushed it as far back as I could, and adjusted in the seat while clearing my throat. “Please, thank you.”

“You got it. Any preference on length?” She tucked her bottom lip under her front teeth and my dick lurched in my pants.

Shit.

“I’d like the sides short with some longer hair on the top, and for my beard, neat and trimmed, on the shorter side. It grows fast enough. It’ll be back to long by next week.” I explained, my eyes never leaving hers.

My cock hardened, straining on the fly of my jeans, and I shifted again, thankful for the damn cape covering up the evidence.

What the fuck? Why do I feel like a teenager again, unable to control my erection?

She smiled and my dick hardened even more. God damn it.

I swallowed hard as she pumped the chair higher and got to work with a comb and spray bottle.

How I’d ignore her so close to me for the next thirty minutes, I had no fucking idea.

But being next to her was unlike anything I’d ever felt before.

Too bad I already had a date or else I’d be asking her out on one.