Page 115 of The Lumberjack and the City Slicker

She smiles softly.

Inside, the cabin feels warmer than usual.

I lit the fire before we left.

Cleaned up more than I’ve ever cleaned in my damn life.

She steps in and turns slowly, taking it all in again.

No panic this time.

No emergency.

Just choice.

I close the door behind us.

The click of the lock sounds louder than it should.

She turns to face me.

And the air shifts.

“You sure about this?” I ask, voice lower now.

She steps closer.

“I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

My pulse kicks up.

I reach for her slowly this time. No urgency. No fear. Just intention.

My hands find the zipper at the back of her dress.

“You’re breathtaking,” I murmur.

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she whispers back.

I ease the zipper down.

Slow.

Careful.

Like I’m unwrapping something precious.

Because I am.

The navy fabric slides from her shoulders, pooling at her feet.

And my lungs seize.

Because she didn’t ignore me. She didn’t forget.

A growl builds in my throat.

Because she’s wearing it.