In the end, my efforts at ax-throwing didn’t drag our scores down too terribly. And after several rounds, where I got to be treated tomoreup close and personal lessons from Reid… I can somewhat competently secure points on my own.
I’m no markswoman, and even though I certainly won’t be winning us any prizes for accuracy, I land all of my attempts somewhere on the target.
Even more smug satisfaction fills my veins when I catch a glimpse of my ex in an argument with his new fiancée.Polly. They look to be sniping at each other over the fact that he won’t help her with taking aim. He’s more intent on being glued to his phone. Between the two of them, I think they’ve struggled to land a single ax on their target.
Not that I’m spending much time paying attention to either of them, at all.
There are farlargerthings keeping me occupied.
In all honesty, I’m doing well to be functioning with coherent thought. Reid wrapping his massive bulk around me, murmuring instructions in my ear, and guiding me to handle the ax is enough to have me turned inside out and upside down.
By the time we’ve finished up with the game for the night, I’ve worked up much more than a thirst. My body is just about one vibrating live wire.
“Should we get a drink?” Reid lifts his cowboy hat off his head for a moment and runs a hand through his hair, making it even more disheveled and sexy, damn it, before settling his hat back in place. Everything this man seems to do makes me want to reach out and run my fingers over him in careful strokes, like he’s some sort of special edition I just want to slowly and gently turn the pages of, in order to fully appreciate him from all angles.
“I’d love that.” I’m doing my best to keep my voice level, not like I’m panting over the sight of the map of veins standing out on the backs of his hands. “I’ll meet you over at the bar, just gonna duck to the ladies’ room first.”
“You betcha.” He gives me a touch of the brim of his hat, and Jesus, he’s so swoony, it’s gotta be some sort of miracle I’ve walked away from this activity with all my fingers still intact. The way he’s got me utterly distracted, I could easily have endedup mishandling one of those axes and landed myself in the emergency room.
He certainly had no problems handling his… ax.
As I slip inside the washroom, I see all the stalls are occupied. Damn, couldn’t I have at least had a few moments of privacy for this mini-spiral? Letting my cheeks puff out, I stare at myself in the mirror. Is this even reality right now? How have I ended up sort-of-but-not-really on a date with one of the most handsome men I’ve ever encountered? All while his presumably boyfriend—or husband—waits at home. A man who holds equal footing on that front where his good looks, boundless charm, and sex appeal are concerned.
Look at me, I’ve been in Mistwood Falls for all of five minutes, and I’m already punching my ticket as homewrecker of the year.
Behind me, a lady with bobbed steel-gray hair and thick cherry-red rimmed glasses appears from one of the stalls. She gives me a generous smile as she dumps her handbag on the vanity between us, then proceeds to wash her hands. “Oh, you’re the girl with the fantastic ax technique.” Her laugh has a hint of a smoker’s rasp to it.
“I don’t know if I’d quite call it that.” Turning the faucet on, I flash her a smile in return. “Luckily, I had a lot of help. If I’d been left to try it on my own, there might have been a very different final scorecard. Maybe even an ambulance involved.”
“Ah, yes. Your mountainous fella.” She plucks a couple of paper towels and dries her hands. “Where on earth did you find him? Cowboy weekly? A wrangler’s catalog?”
Here we go. I take a deep breath, ready to recite a few soundbites of the story we hastily pulled together in Reid’s truck. Especially knowing we have a potential audience for this exchange.
“Nothing quite so adventurous. I actually discovered him in a cozy little bookstore.”
“Good for you, dear. He certainly seems very…” She waves her hands around. Trying to put into words what she obviously doesn’t quite know how to say. “Handy.” Her lips quirk as she gives me a knowing look in the mirror’s reflection.
I’m going to be red as a beetroot by the time I walk out of here. There are too many imaginary scenarios I’ve already drifted to tonight involving hishands.
All of which are ridiculous, because he’s taken, and this whole thing is just a fun little charade anyway.
One of the bathroom stalls opens. “Couldn’t help overhearing.” Of course. My ex’s sparkly new fiancée materializes, gliding toward the basin. “A bookstore? How fitting for a librarian. How old did you say your man was? He’s quite clearly aman.” She might be flashing perfect pearly white veneers, but she clearly doesn’t have any problem mincing her words as she takes a moment to look me over. The insinuation of the vast difference between our ages sings out loud and clear.
“Who cares?” The other woman shrugs, grabs her lipstick, and applies a quick touch-up of a shade to match her eyewear. “Age is but a mere detail. When the guy looks like he could fix your car’s radiator and then splay you across the hood and rearrange your undercarriage without breaking a sweat… I know the onlynumberI’m interested in counting is how frequently he services my pipes.” She pops the cap back on and gives me a wink.
“Oh my god.” I splutter a laugh.
“I say cheers to riding that bucking bronco.” Picking up her handbag, she bumps hips with me, and promptly steers me toward the door. “We’ll be seeing you both when they open the lake for ice skating tomorrow, yes?”
Before I have an opportunity to reply, Polly’s voice carries from where she stands at the mirror, scoffing and fussing with her hair. “I’d be taking a little extra care if you do. From the size of him, it looks like he’d risk putting a hole in the ice if he even stepped foot on that lake.”
The woman at my side tuts under her breath as she tugs me to follow, and we exit the bathroom. “Don’t pay someone like that any mind, dear. She’s just jealous you’ve got yourself a man who knows the truth… that a flashy diamond ring can’t make up for being as bland as a stale piece of toast. I got stuck seated near the two of them at supper.Yikes.” With a little chuckle and an exaggerated grimace, she waves while heading off in the direction of the large chairs set out around the fireplace. “Ice skating, tomorrow. Expect to see you there, deary.” She calls over her shoulder.
I don’t know what to make of any of that. But I know one thing for certain, I’m not hanging around to end up stuck in any further conversation with the woman about to emerge from the washroom at any second now.
Reid is easy to spot, waiting for me at the bar, simply owning the space. With one arm resting on the countertop, he watches me walk over, those gorgeous eyes of his never once wavering from me as I approach. “I got you another glass of champagne.” His voice is a low, delicious rumble, accompanied by his gaze raking down my body in a slow glide. This might be fake—pretend—an illusion—but the way my skin heats, and stomach does somersaults under the weight of his stare is nothing but real.
I don’t quite know how to handle this much open, undivided attention. The truth is, I’m much more used to being the one who attempts to be invisible in every room. I’m used to being a secret to be hidden away and ignored while in public.Thisis entirely foreign.
