“I don’t think I know him.”
Freya smiled fondly. “I’m not surprised. He’s quiet. He works for the mill. It must be your mill!”
“Ah, okay.”
Not exactlymymill and nope…that didn’t make me feel any better.
“You know, I think he’d let me stay with him toward the end of the pregnancy. That way you won’t have to drive to Burlington. We could be in the same area. That would be ideal for?—”
“No.” I shifted uncomfortably, irritated that this connection hadn’t surfaced earlier. Not that it was a game changer—it was too late for that anyway—but it wasn’t ideal. It didn’t have to be awkward, though. I hoped. “Sorry. Listen, I really wasn’t planningon sharing this with anyone in town for a while, and I’m not sure how I feel about potentially selling donuts to my surrogate’s best friend.”
“You probably already have.”
I raked my fingers through my hair. “True. How did I not know this?”
Freya squinted in confusion. “I didn’t know you lived in Wood Hollow. You didn’t say. You were kind of secretive about it and—does it matter?”
“I—does he have to know?”
She gave a bemused half laugh. “It’s not like I’ll be able to hide my condition. Viggo is a very good friend, and he’ll notice. And if he doesn’t know the whole story up front, he’ll jump to the wrong conclusions and?—”
“Okay, okay.” I put my hands up like dual stop signs. “I understand. You should tell him. I want you to have all the support you need. But…can you hold off for a couple of weeks? I’m still processing this news, and I’m not ready to take on town-wide scrutiny. Or…tell him, but maybe leave out the part about the father living in Wood Hollow.”
She nodded slowly. “Okay. I can wait a bit.”
I smiled and shoved that niggling worry to the farthest corner of my mind. My surrogate’s bestie was unimportant in the grand scheme of things. All that mattered was this baby. All these years later…all the time lost, the bridges burned, the relationships faded…it wasn’t for naught. This was my new dream.
Fuck. I was gonna be a dad.
CHAPTER 2
DEXTER
Afew days later, I was still riding the high of impending fatherhood, imagining what life would be like this time next year with my new son or daughter when bottles, diapers, strollers, and car seats became part of my everyday lexicon. Freya was only five weeks into her pregnancy, and according to her doctor, we’d be able to hear a heartbeat at week ten. I couldn’t freaking wait.
This was by far the biggest and best thing that had ever happened to me. It was an exciting, life-altering event, and yes, I wanted to tell everyone. Not yet, though. I wanted the doctor’s assurance, and in the meantime, I hoped to get a read on Viggo Gustafsson and figure out why Freya had lied about him.
There was no way she hadn’t known that her friend lived in the same town. No chance. I wasn’t exactly hiding in the forest. I ran a business, which meant I had a website and a social media presence. She must have done some personal research on top of the agency’s due diligence—if only for the sake of curiosity. I mean…she was having my child, for fuck’s sake. Surrendering her body for nine freaking months for a veritable stranger was a big deal.
I wondered if there was something about this guy she didn’twant me to know. Maybe he was a bad apple. Maybe he’d been in trouble with the law and had an unsavory past. I could have solved the mystery of Viggo Gustafsson with a quick call to Reg. He was the chief of police in the Four Forest area, my good friend, and…my former fuck buddy. Reg could type his name into an official databank and within minutes know Viggo’s date of birth, address, and if he’d had any brushes with the law.
But if I went to Reg, I’d have to share more than I was ready to.
So for now, I was on my own.
That was okay. Theoretically, tracking a lumberjack in Wood Hollow wouldn’t be difficult. They were everywhere. And it wasn’t as if I wanted to talk to the guy. I just wanted to find out a little about him.
First up, Google.
I typed Viggo Gustafsson, Wood Hollow, Wood Hollow mill, logger, and got a big fat nothing. I decided that was a sign that at least Viggo wasn’t wanted for murder. Next step, I hit the coffee shop and snooped…without being obvious.
See, Rise and Grind was a well-known lumberjack hangout. They traveled in groups, migrating like hungry lions up and down Main Street. They were easy to spot. Generally speaking, they were big, burly dudes with grizzly beards who wore jeans, sturdy work boots, plaid shirts, or coveralls if needed. Sometimes they carried gear or hard hats with them, and a layer of sawdust.
Today, there was a group of five congregated at the counter, waiting for the baristas to whip up their drinks. They should have seemed out of place under bright lights with soft jazz drifting from the speakers, but these men were the heart and soul of this town. There’d be no Wood Hollow without the mill, and everyone here knew it.
I recognized Beau, a six-foot five giant; Ted, a rangy-looking older man with salt-and-pepper hair and a long beard; and Micah, a heavier-set guy with ruddy cheeks and bushy eyebrows. The other two were Dirk and Tony, barrel-chested beasts who wereregulars in my shop. Dirk loved maple bars, and Tony was a big fan of chocolate glaze.
They had to know Viggo, but I couldn’t just ask them.
