Chapter 9
Fact or Fiction?
My best friend is hot.
Addison
Man of the Mountain should be renamed Man Meat of the Mountain because as I look around at the endless lumberjacks sauntering around Boulder City Park with contestant numbers
stuck to their flannels, I feel a hunger that I have never felt before. Maybe it’s because I’m on a husband hunt and considering
the potential for fringe benefits. God it’s clearly been way too long since I’ve been laid. Or maybe it’s because I’m pushing thirty and my hormones are surging, but my God, I want them all. Tall, short, wide, narrow,
beards, and no beards . . . there are all types of rustic bros walking around for me to propose to. All I have to do is find
one willing to give up a year of his life.
Easy pickings.
I scan the crowd for Ivan Morin. He’s a lumberjack from Nova Scotia that I saw on the docket and remembered hooking up with
a few years back. He was good in bed, and I recall him loving weed more than anything, so I feel like a temporary marriage
would be no big deal to him if I manage to find him.
“Addie May,” a familiar male voice croaks from behind me and I turn on my heel to see my dad walking toward me.
“Hey, Dad!” I walk over to his giant six-foot-four frame. I cross my arms and smile as we stand in front of each other awkwardly.
We’ve never really been a hugging family. You don’t really hug someone you see every damn day, but since he’s moved to Florida, it feels weird to run into him. Like I should shake his hand or something, but that’s weird too.
I turn my attention to Edith and give her a wobbly smile as she grips my dad’s arm. They both look tan, wrinkled, and happy.
And on some level, that makes me happy. On another level, I hate them both for finding each other and putting me in this situation.
“Nice to see you, Addison,” Edith says, stepping forward and pushing a strand of my dark hair off my shoulder. It’s very maternal
and I feel myself shiver away from the touch. Edith never had children of her own and every time I see her, I get the sense
that she’d like that type of relationship with me, but she’s barking up the wrong tree.
It’s not that I don’t like Edith, I just have no desire for a mother figure in my life. Ever.
“Nice to see you too,” I force through clenched teeth as I step away from her so she can’t quite reach me.
My dad frowns down at my T-shirt exposed under my open flannel, “‘Split me like a good girl’?” A look of disgust mars his
face. “Really, Addie? A company T-shirt would have sufficed.”
I shrug. “It’s punny.”
Edith covers her lips to hide her snickering. I knew I liked her for a reason. I open my mouth to defend my fashion choice,
but my dad doesn’t seem like he cares anymore as his eyes move past me, his whole face dropping into a deep scowl. I turn
around and my lips part when I see who he’s glaring at.
It’s three of the four Fletcher brothers making their way across the grass toward us.
You’d think they’d blend in amongst the sea of flannel here today, yet somehow, they don’t.
Their tall, broad frames and trim beards command attention.
And I swear, people move back to clear a path for them, their jaws dropping as they ogle the fresh meat.
I move my gaze from the older two and feel my brows furrow when I notice that Luke has a contestant number across his chest. What the hell?
They make their way over to us and I feel my thoughts racing in confusion over the number and Luke’s overall general appearance.
He looks . . . different. Did he get more muscular in the past month and a half since I’ve seen him? His hair got longer,
that’s for sure. It’s sticking out from under his backward hat and his light brown beard is fuller and longer than I’ve ever
seen it, aging him in a deliciously masculine way even with the boyish backward hat on.
My best friend looks . . . fucking hot.
What is going on here?
Luke’s eyes land on me and the smile on his face does something to my insides that it should never do. Is that butterflies?
I don’t get butterflies for Luke. I get warm and cozy flies, maybe some pesky gnats because I’m not blind. But never butterflies.
This is so weird.
“Hey, Roe,” Luke says, coming to stand in front of me. He pulls his hat off and runs his fingers through his tousled hair
and I feel myself want to run my hands through them too. Like super bad.
Dad clears his throat loudly from behind me and I feel myself jump at his greeting. “Hello, Fletcher boys,” he gruffs, stepping
past me to reach his hand out to shake Wyatt’s and then Calder’s. “It’s been a while.”
“Luke,” my dad grumbles but doesn’t reach his hand out to shake.
“Hello, Mr. Monroe, nice to see you again.” Luke stuffs his hands into his pockets and stares down at the ground.
My dad tuts his obvious irritation and I have to fight back a laugh. He is such a dick to Luke and all nice and cordial with Wyatt and Calder. It’s seriously messed up. He’s not even trying to hide it.
“How’s Florida treating you?” Wyatt asks, and I half hear them catching up with each other. The Fletcher family and Monroe
Lumber have worked together for years. My dad even helped Wyatt out after their dad passed and Wyatt suddenly found himself
in charge of . . . well . . . everything.
At least Wyatt didn’t have to get married to take over their family business.
Luke’s eyes move from my dad to my shirt, and he scowls. “Really?”
“It’s punny! God, what’s with everyone today?” I reach out and poke at the sticker on Luke’s hard chest. “Why are you wearing
a contestant number?”
“Because I’m competing,” Luke replies with a casual shrug while pushing the sleeves up on his forearms and revealing more
veins than is decent for a public setting.
“Why didn’t you tell me that?” I direct this question to his brothers, who both shake their heads. “Are you guys competing
too?”
“We’re just here to check out the competition.” Calder elbows Luke firmly. “Should be interesting.”
“Speaking of which, we should go find some seats. We’ve got a big group coming. We’ll see you around, Mr. Monroe.” Wyatt shakes
my dad’s hand again before he and Calder make their way over to some bleachers set up by the chopping exhibit.
“We should go sit too, John.” Edith grabs my dad’s arm, pulling his focus from Luke back to her.
“I’ll save you a seat next to me, Ads,” my dad says with a weak wave, offering nothing but a sneer to Luke.
“Florida definitely hasn’t warmed him up to me,” Luke says as he watches my dad and his girlfriend walk away.
“What is going on with you?” I ask, giving him a light shove.
“What do you mean?”
“Why are you acting like it’s totally normal for you to compete today? You’ve never shown any interest in lumberjack stuff
before. In fact, I think you had some choice words for lumberjacks at my house several weeks back.”
Luke shrugs dismissively. “Things can change.”
“Why not tell me though?” My brows furrow as I stare up at him. “Why keep it a secret?”
Luke’s eyes narrow ever so slightly as his gaze moves from my eyes to my mouth and then back to my eyes. His lashes are impossibly
long, and I feel mesmerized by them for a moment before he says, “You said you were looking for a lumberjack husband.”
“Yeah?” His brows quirk, and I burst out laughing. “That’s what you’re doing? Competing to be my fake husband?”
The humor drains from his face slightly as the muscle in his jaw thumps under his beard. “Nothing about this is fake.”
My mind reels with the serious look in his eyes. “Is this why you’ve been too busy to hang out this past month? Have you been . . .”
I glance down at his arms that are putting in a really good shift inside that flannel. I reach up and squeeze his bicep, my
insides clenching at the sheer bulk of it. “Have you been training for this?”
“And what if I was?” he asks, taking a step closer to me and causing me to lean back from his intense body heat.
“Then I’d say you’re absolutely crazy, man,” I reply with a laugh, letting go of his arm and stepping away for some much-needed
air. Surely, he didn’t do all this for me. He must have had an interest in this stuff before I ever brought it up.
Right?
“It’s not crazy to want to be there for a friend.
” Luke’s voice is curt and businesslike, but when his eyes drop back down to my shirt, they twitch with something I can’t quite decipher.
When he looks back up at me, the corner of his mouth tugs back into a smile.
“And I guess I’m hoping third time’s the charm. ”
Luke begins walking backward away from me, turning on his heel with that swift swagger of his and my eyes blatantly drop to
his ass as he goes.
What in the actual fuck is happening?