Axe-identally Married (Maine Lumberjacks #3)

Prologue

Willa

“ B low on the dice, gorgeous,” he growled, his lips ghosting over the shell of my ear.

I obeyed. Then, with my lip caught between my teeth, I smiled up at him.

“For good luck.” He raised another shot of tequila, and I did the same. So did Bob and Phyllis, a couple in their ’70s. They had remarkably excellent party stamina for septuagenarians.

“Roll the dice, hockey boy,” Phyllis hollered.

We were up. That was all I knew. I had little knowledge when it came to gambling. It wasn’t really my thing. In fact, I’d never done it before tonight. The closest I’d come in the past was sleeping in before a big test and skipping my usual last-minute cram session.

If I had to guess, I would have picked blackjack as my game of choice. It seemed to be the most academic way to lose one’s money at a casino.

But here I was, at the craps table, throwing down come bets and field bets and yelling about something called the pass line.

Cole was in his element, being goofy and dramatic and rolling successfully time and again. We’d attracted a small crowd, in addition to our new friends Bob and Phyllis.

My brain was hazy from the tequila, the pure oxygen, and the wild stimulation of a Vegas casino floor. Not to mention the sensation of Cole Hebert’s very large, very strong hand wrapped tightly around my hip. As the night had progressed, he’d touched me more and more.

And I was just drunk enough to let him.

“We got married here, in Vegas,” Phyllis said, swaying to the music. “We were young, silly and in love. Just like you two.”

I froze, my heart lodging in my throat. Cole and I were not in love. We were two lonely people hanging out in Vegas while our friends and family were all coupled up and drinking fancy wine with the hotel’s sommelier. Two lost souls forced together to endure a weekend centered around an engagement and babies and family. Things that felt miles away for me, and likely for Cole too.

Bob leaned in and kissed her wrinkled cheek. “The best decision I ever made. I knew I couldn’t let this girl get away.”

My brain was flooded with affection for these two. They were adorable. The sweet elderly couple from Virginia had come to Vegas, where it had all begun, to celebrate their fiftieth wedding anniversary. They’d defied the odds and had made it work for decades. Theirs was the kind of story I was inclined not to believe. Though I deeply enjoyed it anyway. Like fiction. A Hallmark movie. The plot sweet and entertaining, yet implausible.

Cole rolled another seven, and the crowd gathered around the table cheered.

He looked down at me, his eyes molten chocolate. “What do you think, Doc? Last bet? How about a hardaway?”

Caught in the magnetism of this man, I would have agreed to anything at this point.

“That means…”

He smiled. “A pair. Let’s go big.”

“And then you two should go find a chapel,” Phyllis said, holding her martini glass high. She wore jeweled glasses on a chain around her neck and had meticulously styled gray hair.

Bob agreed, beaming at his wife. Though his pink-and-green striped polo strained over his belly and he had a round, kind face, he had the posture of a former military man.

Cole hovered close, his enormous frame all but engulfing me, and kissed the side of my head.

My heart fluttered. Had anyone ever done that before? I couldn’t remember a single time. The gesture was so intimate and gentle.

He grinned at me. “You’re on. If I roll a pair, let’s get married.”

It was preposterous. Totally absurd. But while I was caught in his gaze like this, and with the way he looked like he wanted to devour me, while the people around us chanted, it seemed like a very sensible thing to do.

It was the dress. I was high on a sexy dress. A girl like me didn’t experience many glamorous nights in her life. Getting all dolled up in Vegas and spending the evening with a hot man hanging off me had clearly gone to my head. And the drinks. All those free drinks.

God, his touch felt incredible. It was rare that I felt small in the presence of a man. But Cole Hebert completely dwarfed me. And his tactile nature, the way he was always touching me in some way, made my insides melt.

When he licked the salt for the tequila shot off the inside of my wrist, I was a goner. This was too much fun. And I’d been so desperate for fun, craving it, for so long.

So after I blew on the dice, I looked up at his dark eyes and said, “You’re on, Hebert. Snake eyes, and we tie the knot.”

He took a slow sip of his drink, attention locked on me the whole time, and then offered me the glass.

I knocked it back, relishing the way it burned down my throat.

The noise level increased as he theatrically shook them with one hand and splayed the other wide across my ass.

My heart pounded against my chest. I wasn’t good-girl Dr. Savard here. Nope, I was Willa the wild child, cleavage on display, making myself comfortable with the hot guy getting handsy, and actually winning at craps.

I wasn’t just drunk on tequila. It was the dress, his hands, and the crowd that had assembled and cheered us on.

Tonight, I wasn’t just Willa.

I was the woman I’d been striving for, the one who’d always been a little out of reach. Who did what she wanted and took what she deserved.

So when I clutched his shirt and kissed him hard as the crowd roared, I felt like I was flying.

“Let’s do it.”

I should have known that all casino games are rigged.

I was a good girl.

Polite and hard-working. I always put away my grocery cart and gave my loose change to the Salvation Army bell ringer during the holidays. I promptly returned my library books and never made a fuss.

I even flossed daily.

I did not go to Vegas and randomly marry my best friend’s ex.

Before tonight, I would have bet my life that I was the last woman on earth who would stand up in front of an Elvis impersonator and say “I do.”

But maybe I wasn’t such a good girl after all…