Nope. No, thank you.
No thinking about husky-voiced men with intense blue eyes and forearms carved by ancient gods and dark locks that fell across his forehead.
No replaying the way he looked at me when I fumbled the words,I’ll be in your room later, like I was auditioning for an HR training video of what not to do.
And certainly no analyzing the moment at the end, when he smirked and shut the door with a smug little sparkle in his eye likehehad won.
Ugh.
I flopped backward onto the grass with a dramatic groan and stared up at the sky.
“Universe,” I said aloud. “Please let me get through today without humiliating myself again.”
A twig snapped.
I sat up quickly, scanning the tree line.
But it wasn’t a person.
It was Henrietta.
Back again.
Standing just outside the fence. Watching.
Plotting.
I pointed a warning finger.
“Iseeyou. Don’t try anything. I’ve got a watering can and zero shame.”
She blinked.
Then pecked the ground and turned away, her fluffy butt shaking in clear chicken dismissal.
I exhaled. Picked myself up. Brushed off my jeans.
This day was already trying to kill me, and it wasn’t even ten o’clock.
Time to help make cookies and pretend I hadn’t just been chased by a bird with a vendetta and emotionally destabilized by a man who looked like he’d stepped out of a lumberjack romance cover shoot.
It's a totally normal morning.
I was halfway back to the lodge, straw in my hair, dirt on my jeans, and at least forty-seven percent sure a goat had sneezed on me when I heard that telltale crunch of gravel behind me.
I turned around, assuming it was Beck or maybe a guest needing directions to the breakfast room.
And instead?
Ben Jensen.
Walking toward me like he’d just strolled off the cover ofRustic Lumberjack Quarterly.
A flannel shirt, rolled up to the elbows, revealing strong forearms and lightly tanned skin. Dark jeans. Work boots. That beard. Thatface.That wholeI’m brooding but probably smell like cedar and mysterything he had going on without even trying.
And me?
I was covered in hay, chaos, and the distinct scent of betrayal-by-chicken.
