Chapter 3
Chapter three
The axe feels like part of me as I swing it high and drive it down with a clean, satisfying crack.
The log splits in two, and I take a deep breath of the fresh pine scent exploding into the cold February air.
Out here behind the compound, away from the cameras and champagne flutes, it’s just raw Montana.
This place might be billed as a luxury with hot tubs steaming under the evergreens, but survival isn’t optional up here. These city boys think a weekend in the snow is an “adventure.” Cute. If they can’t keep a fire roaring through a blizzard, Lyssa won’t give them the time of day.
“Like this, Ethan,” I say, handing our resident fitness trainer the axe.
He’s in good shape, but his hands are soft, with no trace of calluses from real work.
Yesterday, he told me his toughest “workout” is blending kale.
I like him. Reminds me of the greenhorns we break in on the crew. Eager, no ego.
“Keep your grip firm and feet shoulder-width apart. Swing from your hips, not your arms. Let the weight do the job.”
Ethan nods, plants his stance, and swings. The log cracks unevenly, but he knows he’s getting better at it and grins triumphantly. “Damn, Creed. That felt good. You must get a lot of practice living up here.”
“Every storm.” I grunt, taking the axe back to demo another clean split. “My brothers and I run Montana Maverick Lines. When the state calls, we’re the ones keeping power alive for people who’d freeze without it.”
“Respect, man.” Ethan wipes frost from his brow. “Makes me feel soft just talking about protein shakes.”
I chuckle and clap his shoulder. “Everyone starts somewhere. Keep at it.” My mind drifts to last night’s ceremony and Lyssa glowing in that clingy silk dress.
She took her time when she was handing out those heart pins.
For a split second, I thought she was going to skip me.
Thankfully, she didn’t, but I swear, I think she was hoping I’d bail.
Then she announced Tyler Grant, the musician from Austin, won the first solo date with her.
I wanted to throw up. Why the fuck would she choose him?
The show keeps dates secret because the producers love those “authentic” reactions, but my brain’s spinning every worst-case scenario.
A sleigh ride through the pines? Picnic by a fire while he strums her a song?
Or worse, maybe they sneaked off to those hidden hot springs, and he—
No, I can’t even think about it. She’s testing the waters. It’s her prerogative, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it.
A low engine growls, rolling in from the front drive. I set the axe against the block and stride around the corner in time to see the sleek black beast glide to a stop near the entrance. My competition is already swarming, vying for a scrap of her attention before she disappears.
The door opens. And there she is. Damn. Lyssa’s wearing a cream parka I’ve never seen her in before, but it’s the hat, with a soft fuzzy pink pom-pom, that stops my heart.
Her eyes are sparkling with mischief. She looks cozy.
Adorable. And so fucking sexy I need to restrain myself from hauling her over my shoulder and getting out of here.
The guys surge forward, and she waves, laughing that rich, throaty sound that hits me square in the chest. She scans for a brief moment, and I know she’s searching for me.
I stay a few feet behind her new fans until her gaze finds mine.
“Creed,” her voice carries over the chatter. “Still playing lumberjack?”
I close the distance in long strides, with my boots crunching over the snow. “Someone’s gotta keep the fires burning while you’re off playing with musicians, sweetheart.”
“Jealous already?” Her lips curve into a teasing half-smile. “It’s only day one.”
“Not jealous,” I lie, stepping closer, in front of the men, so they can’t hear me. “Just curious about how long it will take for Tyler to disappear. I’m not sure he even knows how to keep you warm.”
She tilts her head, making her pom-pom wiggle. “Are you worried about my temperature, mountain man?”
“Always.” I reach out and brush a stray snowflake from her cheek with my thumb. “You’re so damn cute in that cap. Makes me want to steal you away and keep you all to myself.”
“Ready, sugar?” Tyler slides into our conversation with an annoying grin.
Lyssa gives me one last long, loaded look before turning to him. “Let’s go see what trouble we can find.”
Tyler helps her into the limo, and I watch her fuzzy hat disappear into the dark interior. The door shuts. The car pulls away with its tires spitting up snow, leaving us in the dust.
Ethan steps beside me and clears his throat. “Damn. She reminded me of one of those winter princesses in a movie. Tyler’s one lucky bastard.”
I grunt, crossing my arms over my chest, staring at the taillights as the limo navigates the long driveway. “Correct,” I say, with my stomach churning.
I took those simple things, holding her hand, making her laugh, kissing her all the time, for granted. On the flip side, the producers teased a group date for the rest of us losers tomorrow. I’ll find a way to get close to her.