Hunks, Hammers, and Happily Ever Afters (45 page)

“Tully?”

Huck’s panicked shout breaking through her dismalness, she rounded the tree. The tension eased from his features as soon as he spotted her. “Jesus. Don’t scare me like that again.”

“Sorry. I had to potty.”

Cracking an enormous yawn, he stretched his arms over his head before rubbing the sleepiness from his eyes. He swung his legs off the bed and stood. “Me too. Don’t wander off while I’m gone.”

He strode toward the opposite end of the clearing, completely comfortable in his nakedness—and why shouldn’t he be when he was a freakin’ walking lady boner. She unabashedly ogled his firm ass. Seriously, you could bounce a quarter off of it.

Sighing, she sat on the edge of the mattress. In a million years she would never understand Melanie. Not only was Huck the living definition of a dreamboat, he was a good man. Yes, he could be stubborn as hell. And a jackass at times. But hell, so was she. That’s probably why they butted heads as much as they did. But he had a big heart. Without question. Look at the way he’d protected her all those years. How he still continued to do so, despite her driving him nuts. A man like that? You held tight and never let him go.

A rustling noise announced that he’d traipsed back into the clearing. “That was quick.”

“Got plenty of practice with peeing in the woods. Benefits of being a logger.” His lopsided grin stirred butterflies in her belly. Not tackling him on the spot took massive effort. His attention trekked to the tree.

She could see the exact moment he registered the absence of the wall. Her heart sank a little lower. With no further reason to stay, their idyllic—albeit it strange—time together drew closer to an end. Who knew what would happen once they left the woods. Most likely they’d return to the way things used to be, though minus the yelling and temptation to clobber him.

Okay, that might be a stretch.

He crossed to their discarded pile of clothes and tugged on his briefs, much to her everlasting disappointment. Being deprived of his mouthwatering cock and ass for even a second qualified as cruel and unusual punishment. He returned his focus to the ground, a frown marring his countenance. “Have you seen my shirt?”

“Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but a raccoon stole it.”

He grunted. “Not something you hear every day.”

“They also took one of my flip-flops. And possibly some condoms.”

“I had no idea raccoons practice safe sex.”

“You learn something new every day.” She pushed up from the bed and went to put on the rest of her clothes.

Huck hauled her to him before she could wiggle into her yoga pants. He squeezed her butt cheeks. “I hate to see these get covered.”

“Funny, I was just thinking the same thing about yours.”

“Oh yeah?” He pulled her snug to his front. “Mm, I forgot to do something.”

“What?”

“This.” He ducked his head and kissed her, his tongue sweeping hot and wet against hers. By the time she and Huck came up for air her knees were jelly and her breaths ragged. She was grateful to note she wasn’t the only one suffering that last affliction. He smoothed a hand along her hair, massaging her nape through the messy strands. “Tempted as I am to strip you down and continue that kiss on the bed, we should get out of here.”

“Yeah, we kind of got sidetracked from that mission last night, didn’t we?”

“Hell, I’m not complaining.” He tossed her his socks. “I’d give you my boots but you’d float in them.”

“Thanks.” Using his hip as a support, she tugged on the socks and wiggled her toes. The thick wool provided a way better cushion than her flimsy flip-flops.

“Will those work? Or do you want me to carry you piggyback?”

Visualizing that scenario, she snorted. “That’s a chiropractic visit waiting to happen.”

“Shit, compared to my usual gear, you weigh less than a sack of feathers.”

She wedged her lone flip-flop into her pant waistband. “My ego says thank you while reality laughs its ass off.”

Chuckling, he hunched over and snatched a handful of the condoms. Giving her a smoky look, he stuffed them in his pockets.

Well, happy birthday to me.

“Ready?” At her nod, he took her hand and led her to the deer path. The return trip went much smoother and quicker this time. She hesitated as they passed the thicket of brush. “What do you suppose those voices were yesterday?”

“I have no damn idea. Maybe the tree has a few cronies.”

There was no question that the forest was unique. Special, as she’d tried to explain to him yesterday. And she didn’t doubt the possibility of equally magical creatures calling it home. How could she, after what she’d seen? Fairies. Nature spirits. It could be anything and everything. Exciting as it would be to have the answer, she was equally content to leave the mystery unsolved.

They stepped from the woods and she spotted her purse still leaning against the front tire. Relief swept her. With these bandit raccoons roaming around, she was damn lucky it was still there. After a quick scan of her bag’s contents to confirm no missing items, she checked her cellphone. Still plenty of battery, so she placed the call to Larry’s. This time it went through. She obtained the tow driver’s ETA and hung up. Sliding her gaze to Huck’s, she twitched her nose. “What do you think the odds are that our tree friend is responsible for our wonky connection problems earlier?”

“I’d say it’s a safe bet.” Huck checked his watch. “We’ve got some time. I’ll fix us breakfast.”

A man who cooked
and
fucked like a porn star? Yeah, that Melanie was definitely a dumb ass.

~*~

T
he smell of bacon and fresh java making her giddy, she leaned against the center island in Huck’s kitchen. “Are you sure there isn’t anything I can do to help?”

“Positive. Fixings will be ready in five minutes.” He paused chopping the green onions and glanced toward the percolating Mr. Coffee. “Don’t have any cream, but there’s milk if you need it.”

She exhaled resignedly. “Well there goes my whipped cream fantasy.”

He slashed her a look over his shoulder. “Whipped cream fantasy?’

“Don’t ask.”

“Oh, but I am. You’re gonna tell me every dirty detail.”

“It’ll have to wait until after I eat. I can’t handle being hungry
and
horny.” She was suffering enough as it was with him performing his kitchen duties bare chested. Seriously, she was seconds away from rupturing an ovary.

“Fine. But I’m holding you to it.” He tossed the onions into a frying pan and sautéed them before adding enough eggs and cream cheese to make her arteries whimper for mercy.

As promised, the meal was ready within the five minute marker. While he dished up the food, she made herself useful by pouring their coffee and carrying it to the island. He indicated for her to take the bar stool on the left and she dutifully complied, her stomach rumbling loudly as he placed her dish in front of her. She was too ravenous to be embarrassed by the obnoxious sound. Huck settled into the seat next to her and they simultaneously dug into their food.

Sharing breakfast with him felt nearly as intimate as having sex. And almost as good. It was too easy to imagine waking up every morning to this. To him. It was the stuff made of dreams. Unrealistic ones.

Against her will, her thoughts replayed to her earlier epiphany in the woods. Much as she wanted to bring up his and Melanie’s names on the tree, uncertainty plagued her. For someone who was used to being unabashedly outspoken, it was a humbling sensation.

What if upset him? It’d be a pretty rotten thing to do to the man who’d given her orgasms
and
bacon. She snagged one of the crispy strips and munched it moodily.

“Your silence terrifies me.”

Taken aback, she eyed him. “Why?”

“Becomes it seldom occurs.”

Yeah, he had her there. “Just thinking.”

“Always a dangerous thing.”

Undoubtedly the truth. Especially in this case. Still, maybe she poke around the question without coming right out with it. “So... there are a lot more names on the tree than I recalled.”

He slid his gaze away, his jaw tightening. That response spoke more volume than actual words.

Don’t ask. Don’t ask. Don’t—
“Did she do it or you?”

He remained quiet long enough she regretted not listening to her own advice. Right then she would have paid a million dollars for a time machine just so she could travel back twenty seconds to slap some sense into her own stupid ass. Mourning the loss of the intimacy between them, she tucked her hands in her lap. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked or brought it up.”

“I did.”

His flatly worded reply caught her off guard and she gaped at him. It wasn’t only that she hadn’t expected him to tell her, it was the answer itself that staggered her brain. “But I thought you didn’t believe in it.”

“I don’t.”

“Then why do it?”

“Because I was a fool back then.” He shrugged noncommittedly. Behind his feigned casualness, she sensed the walls going up. “Took me a while to see the error of my ways. They say money doesn’t grow on trees. Well, neither does love.”

Tell that to all those people who are on that oak.
She kept the thought to herself. It’d be beyond hurtful to point that out when it’d clearly not worked out for him and Melanie.

God, no wonder he’d jumped at the offer to sell the tree. Having it there all this time must have been akin to a daily dose of salt in his wounds.

But then why not sell it sooner? He’d admitted he’d have sold it for less. And she sincerely doubted this was the first time someone came to him with an offer. If he’d needed money, why wait until now? What could have triggered the final tipping—

Oh my God.

Melanie. It had to be. It couldn’t be random happenstance that his decision coincided with her returning to town. Maybe it wasn’t about the money at all.

It was about obliterating his past.

CHAPTER EIGHT

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S
he couldn’t shove that heavy conclusion from her mind. Even while they cleaned up the kitchen and she helped dry the plates, she remained preoccupied with the ramifications of her findings.

If she was right—and everything inside her told her it was the case—she stood little chance of dissuading him from following through with the tree felling. She teetered on a precarious balance beam of conflict. On one side, the importance of doing the right thing, for the oak, the town, and every individual yet to be united with their loved one.

On the other side, Huck. He deserved to be freed from his past. Not forever haunted by it.

She ached for him. Ached for the innocence he’d lost and the belief in a happy ever after. Ached for what could have been. For the two of them. Because more and more, that possible future resembled a hazy snapshot that only existed in her fantasies.

“You’re quiet again.”

She stowed the dish cloth on the counter and faced him. “She’s not worth the pain you’re causing yourself.”

His jaw clenched again. “Tully, I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Okay.”

He appeared shocked by her calm acquiesce. Probably because it was such a rare thing. But she was in no mood to fight or argue. There was no point to it. She’d said what needed to be said. Hopefully one day he’d see the light. Maybe it’d be enough to clear the darkness from his past.

He sipped his coffee, his expression slightly suspicious—as if he thought she was pulling a fast one on him.

“Would you mind if I used your shower? I feel like I have pine needles in places they shouldn’t be.” Grimacing, she plucked at the butt seam on her yoga pants. It was worse than having sand in your ass crack. Well, maybe not
worse
, but definitely equally unpleasant. On the bright side, she was going to smell woodsy fresh for a good long while.

“Sure. Bath’s straight through there.” He jutted his chin in the direction of his bedroom. “Clean towels are on the peg.”

“Thanks.” She shuffled to the bathroom and snicked the door shut behind her. Catching her reflection in the mirror, she winced. “Well, hello sexy goddess.” Her hair was a veritable rat’s nest. For real. There was at least a fifty-fifty chance a family of them had used it as a sleeping bag last night. Turning her back on the dreadful sight, she shimmied out of her clothes and dialed on the shower.

The first jettison of water hitting her felt like a gift from the gods. Pine needles and various forest grime swirled down the drain. Next time she was trapped in the woods with a magical tree she’d ask for a steam shower. Or maybe even a Jacuzzi tub.

“Hope you left some areas for me to scrub.”

She returned Huck’s smirk through the fogged glass of the stall door. “I take it it’s against your religion to knock.”

“Sorry not sorry.” He stripped off his pants and briefs, and after donning one of the condoms he’d filched from the woods, joined her beneath the spray. His midnight blue eyes darker than sin, he pivoted her to face the rear wall. He reached around her and grabbed his bottle of Old Spice body wash.

“Wow, you were serious.”

“When it comes to getting my woman squeaky clean, I never jest.”

The
my woman
part gave the butterflies in her tummy something to cheerlead about. Too bad it was only a figure of speech. “Get me clean so you can dirty me up?”

“How did you know?” He slid his arms around her from behind and sudsed her breasts, his slick, soapy fingers paying special attention to her nipples.

She leaned into him, her body immediately responding to the sensuousness of his touch and the hard, hot press of his cock against her tailbone. “Well, I figured that was either a six shooter in your pocket or you’re obscenely happy to see me. I’m hoping it’s the later.”

“It is.” One hand released her breast and roamed along her abdomen. With a boldness that stole her breath, he cupped her pussy and hiked her up the same instant that thick, delicious cock of his eased into her. He gave a shallow pump, his thumb ghosting over her clit.

Moaning, she planted her hands on the slick tile, her head spinning. “
Huck
.”