Chapter 8
The orange morning light extended across the bed and came to rest upon John”s slumbering form. As the sun continued its rise, the angle shifted casting brilliant rays upon his face, and he blinked at the sudden intrusion. He laid there for a moment, disoriented as the curtain of sleep slowly lifted away. He couldn”t remember a time when he”d felt so warm, so comfortable, so peaceful.
His eyes touched on the soft, wavy brown hair splayed out on the pillow next to him and his body finally began to register the soft form in his arms, seemingly molded to his shape. A smile played at his lips. It was difficult to be concerned about this. What man in his right mind would be upset to wake up with a beautiful woman in his arms? With her soft skin beneath his hands and her warmth sinking into his soul.
Her back was flush to his chest as he stroked a hand up her smooth belly to cup a bare breast, kneading it lightly and grinning when she began to squirm. He could tell the exact moment when she awoke, her body tensing ever so slightly.
”Good morning,” he murmured, kissing her shoulder softly.
Frankie relaxed against him and released a deep breath. ”What time is it?”
”Nearly seven if I had to guess.” His arms tightened around her. ” I can”t remember the last time I slept in this late.”
She snickered. ”Maybe that”s because we were up so late,” she offered. “Or it could have been all that physical activity.” Just what manner of physical activity was left unsaid.
”You have a good point.” His lips landed on her neck and he nibbled his way up to her ear.
”What are we doing today?” she asked, arching to give him better access.
”Hmmmm…” He gripped the fleshy lobe between his teeth, chuckling when he felt goosebumps erupt along her arms, then released it with a sucking pop. ”I”m in the middle of installing maple lines and the recent weather tells me I need to hurry the process before the heavy snow comes. Once that happens, it”ll be impossible to finish. Would you like to help me?”
Frankie shifted in his arms, rolling to face him, her eyes bright and excited. “Really? I can help?”
The grin that couldn’t seem to stay away with her around stretched across his face again. This was getting downright alarming… he was rapidly turning into mush around this woman. Pretty soon, he”d be drawing hearts on windows and seeing them in the clouds.
”It”s tough work,” he cautioned. ”The ground will still be icy and muddy from the melting snow. More so than yesterday.”
”I”m not afraid of a little dirt, and the shoes you bought me worked great.” She spun back and snuggled her rear into his groin, making his eyes cross and his cock harden. ”After reading my grandmother”s journal, I”d always wondered what those maple lines really looked like, laid out in the forest like a humongous boobytrap ready to capture careless hikers in its grasp.”
He chucked and adjusted his midsection so his erection wasn’t poking her in the back. ”That”s pretty close to reality. I tap one hundred acres, with seventy-five taps per acre. I’m over half done, and with an extra pair of hands we just might get done today.”
”That sounds lovely.” Frankie squirmed against the hand that was currently drawing a heart on her stomach. He smiled and spread his fingers against her ribcage, nestling them just beneath her breasts.
”How much maple syrup do you typically harvest each year?” she asked, her voice taking on a breathless note.
”It differs every year. But if it’s a good year, we can see fifty gallons of syrup. It”s sold in the town”s general store and the proceeds go to the Wisconsin Forestry Division.”
”That”s great. I would imagine it tastes amazing.”
”It”s the best you”ll ever try. How about I make you pancakes for breakfast so you can see for yourself.”
“Mmmmm. That would be lovely,” she purred, the sound going straight to his dick. His hands tightened on her.
“I”ll take you by the general store tomorrow if you”re up for it. All the local artisans sell their crafts there. The local curds are considered a delicacy around here if you like cheese.”
”I”d love that.” She released a huge exhale, her gaze on the scenery outside. ”It is so beautiful here. I mean, everything I read said it would be nice, especially this time of the year. But I never expected this.”
”What did you expect?”
She shrugged. ”I wasn”t quite sure, to be honest. I”ve been all over the world on projects, but this place just speaks to me somehow.”
John’s heart sped up, but he didn’t say a word. He wasn”t about to fool himself into believing that Frankie would stay. She was only here for the week and then she”d return to London, which might as well be Mars as far as he was concerned. She had a life there, a career and most certainly family who would be upset if she moved across the world.
He grimaced. Finally, he fully understood the dilemma his grandfather had faced so long ago.
Frankie reached up and traced her finger over the carved heart on the bedpost. ”I can”t believe our grandparents were here together. It feels so surreal.”
”It was always just a piece of my grandfather”s past to me. I read about it in his journals after he passed away, but it was an abstract memory. Something he’d experienced in his long life that didn”t affect me. But now…” His arm tightened around her middle. ”I agree.”
”Your grandmother must have hated this.” Her finger moved over the initials. ”To be reminded every day of her husband”s lover, especially one that he professed to love.”
John huffed. ”I”m sure it rubbed raw for a bit, but my grandmother never lived here. She hated being in the woods and had her own place in town where she raised her boys. She worked at the library and was very content with that life.”
”They lived separate lives?”
”Mmmmm…” He kissed her shoulder again. There was something about it that drew his lips. ”My grandfather didn”t marry for a long time after Meredith left. Maybe he hoped she would change her mind and come back, but that was never in the cards for them. After a while, he realized he needed to hand the conservatorship down to his children, so he married my grandmother and they had three sons and a daughter.”
”That makes me sad.”
”Don’t be. They both got what they needed from the marriage. My grandfather got a successor and my grandmother had security. She moved to Chicago as soon as the children were grown. My father eventually took over the conservatorship and my two uncles and aunt all went their own way. Their families come back to vacation here every year, but most of my cousins live in Chicago or Los Angeles.”
”It sounds very mercenary,” she commented. “Are you close with them? Your cousins?” Her hand traced up his arm. It was his turn with the goosebumps.
”Yes, most of them anyway. Several have cabins or vacation houses around the lake and we typically hold a large reunion every summer.”
”That sounds fun.” She was quiet for a moment. ”I bet it”s beautiful here in the summer.”
”It would take your breath away,” he replied, suddenly wishing beyond hope that she wouldn”t leave. He ruthlessly bit back an offer for her to stay. That”s not what she was there for. He had to remember that. She would only resent him if he pressured her to make a choice.
John closed his eyes and grit his teeth. He foresaw reliving his grandfather”s agony. How in the world could he watch this woman, whom he”d only known for a few days, walk away and take his heart with her? How could he ask her to stay knowing that her life’s work and her own family legacy was in England?
Was history destined to repeat itself?
***
Frankie followed behind John—her gaze plastered to his rear as he moved expertly down the trail. The way the muscles bunched and released as he climbed up the incline was mesmerizing and she couldn”t tear her eyes away. It still amazed her that she”d felt every single inch of that strong masculine physique last night. Of course, now she craved it even more. What sane woman wouldn”t?
If Sharon knew that Frankie and John had become intimate, she would go berserk. The woman was a master at ferreting out such things and would figure it out within a matter of minutes. She had a nose for gossip, especially the sordid and steamy kind. Frankie could picture the scene in her head and felt her pulse sky rocket. She’d never hear the end of it from Sharon. It would be difficult, but she had to keep this fling to herself.
Frankie’s gaze skimmed upward, noting the way John’s strong shoulders strained at the jacket he wore. A thought popped in her head.
”You never did tell me how you got the nickname Lumberjack John.”
She could make out a ghost of a smile as he glanced back at her. ”There”s not much to the story.”
”But it”s a great nickname, yeah? I bet there”s more to it than what you”re saying.”
John stopped as they approached a rotting log, offering her a hand as she stepped over. She flashed him a smile of thanks and her gaze dropped to his rock-hard backside as he continued on the trail.
”Not long after I took over from my father, there was a logging competition that came to town. Most of the competitors were professional loggers who made money on the side at these events.” He shot her a steely look over his shoulder.
”Yes? And?” Frankie urged after he was quiet for several seconds.
”And I was twenty-two and full of myself, certain I could beat seasoned professionals who had a decade of experience. There was one guy…” He shook his head. ”Damn, I”d never seen anyone with that much muscle definition. It was like he was carved from stone, and on top of that he was a full head taller than me. But despite his size, he could skim up and down those trees like a monkey. He could chop faster than anyone there and would completely bury an ax head in the throwing competitions.”
”And he beat you?” Frankie offered.
John barked a laugh. ”Hell yes, he beat me. He destroyed everyone. I was completely out of my league, but he took me under his wing that day. He helped me along the way, showing me the correct way to handle the logs and how to make a proper cut without getting disqualified. Anyway, because I finished the competition rather than giving up when it got tough, he gave me my logger nickname.” He shrugged. ”The locals latched onto it, enjoying it way more than I did.”
Frankie giggled. ”I think it”s sexy as hell.”
He stopped and turned to her, his brows arched. ”Is that so?”
”Well,” she started, ”I”ll admit I didn”t know what to say when Ranger Brooks used it the first time. I thought he was taking the piss out of me honestly. It was obvious he didn”t approve of me being here. Anyway, I wasn’t terribly impressed at first. But after I met you?” She wiggled her eyebrows at him. ”It absolutely fits.”
His lips quirked. ”That”s good to know.”
A rush of heat moved into her cheeks. It was annoying how easily this man could make her blush. ”Are we close yet?” she asked, desperate to change the subject. ”I could really use a loo right about now.”
John chuckled and shook his head. ”You won”t find one of those around here.” He pointed at the tree to his left, a tall, broad pine with thick boughs that kept the area beneath clear from the worst of the ice and snowfall. ”But that spot is as good as any.” The way he turned around, giving her privacy, made her smile. The man was a gentleman to the core despite his tough guy exterior.
She finished and yanked up her pants as quickly as possible. The cold air on sensitive parts was worse than having to drop her bottoms. ”Okay, I”m ready.” She ran her hand down John”s back and smiled when he swiveled. His sapphire eyes twinkled as he traced a finger down the side of her face and notched a lock of hair behind her ear.
Frankie”s breath caught in her chest. She practically melted into his touch. ”Is it much further?”
”Just over the hill,” he murmured, the finger under her chin lifting her for his kiss. His lips nibbled at hers for a brief second before he pivoted and started back up the trail.
“Woah,” she exclaimed softly when they reached the peak, catching her breath. Sure enough, just as her grandmother had described in her journal, the maple lines did indeed wind through the trees like a spider web, threading their way to the bottom of the hill.
”They start up there.” John pointed to the top of an adjacent hill. ”And slope down there where we gather the sap. We let gravity do most of the work,” he added, gesturing to a five-gallon container.
”And that”s all you get from this? A five-gallon bucket?”
”No.” He sputtered a laugh. ”It’s just there to catch anything that might come down right now. Sap season runs from February to April and we”ll have many buckets throughout the area. My guess is we”ll probably see fifty gallons of syrup again this year.”
”Wow!” She scanned the area, noticing which trees were already in the network. ”This is amazing, John. And the trees don”t suffer, yeah?”
”They don”t suffer,” he assured her. ”I rotate the trees I tap.” He pointed to his left. ”We”ll start over there.”
Three hours later, Frankie”s shoulders ached abominably. She thought her arms might fall off, and the worst she had done was holding the tubing in place while John completed the more back-breaking work. He finished the tap he was working on and wiped his brow. ”Damn, I”m hungry. You ready to eat?”
”Yes, please. I”m quite ravenous at this point.”
”I was gonna go with ravishing,” he teased, a glint in his eye. ”But, yeah, I”m ready for lunch, too.”
Frankie squinted up at him. ”Are all Americans this bad at pick up lines, or is it just you?”
John scoffed, holding a hand to his chest. ”You wound me.” He grabbed his oversized backpack and pulled out a small blanket, spreading it out over a dry patch of ground. Then he produced several food containers along with two plates and silverware.
”Impressive. You”re like Mary Poppins with that bag,” she joked.
He leered up at her, waggling his brows. ”Not just the bag, baby.”
”Oh, my god!” She waved her hands, chuckling. ”Make it stop.”
”Come on.” John patted the blanket. ”Have a seat. I brought some fun Wisconsin treats for you. I even have beer.”
”I was hoping to sample some American beer,” she commented, watching as he opened each container.
”This isn”t just American beer, baby. This is Wisconsin beer. It’s an art here and we make the best you”ll ever find.” He showed her the oversized can of beer and poured two cups.
Frankie took a sip, her brows jumping. The taste was refreshing and bright. She took a long pull of beer, then sighed with delight. ”Mmmmmm! It”s delicious.”
John smiled at her. ”I do love a woman who appreciates beer. There”s nothing better.”
”Of course there is.” She raised her nose in the air. ”Nothing beats a lovely glass of Italian wine.”
“I’m not about to knock Italians and their wine,” he conceded. ”They’ve certainly been doing it for a long time. But Wisconsin beer is in a class of its own. In fact, most of what we produce here is great.”
She huffed a light laugh. “That would be obscene vanity from anyone else. But coming from you, I would have to agree.”
He shook his head, a wide smile on his face. ”A woman after my own heart.” He took a long draught from his cup and sighed.
Frankie watched in fascination as his strong throat worked as he drank. She struggled to keep her expression bland while troubling thoughts circled through her mind. In only a matter of days, this man had managed to send her into a full-blown tailspin. She should be focused on work, but instead she was obsessed with everything about him—the way he walked, smiled, joked. She would love nothing more than to take his heart and give him her own. It was nearly all she could think about.
But that way was impossible. It would only lead to heartbreak.