AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Was I proud of that fact? Absolutely. Not.
But a man could only be knocked down so many times. And a pretty girl who smelled like blueberry pie was rubbing her hands all over me. I was only human, after all.
“I think that’s good, Pip,” I finally uttered, my voice strained.
She peeked up at me and froze, like she finally realized the position she was in. Awkward didn’t begin to explain the proximity of her face to my belt.
Her eyes widened comically behind her glasses and her face turned beet red as she backed away from me, tripping over her feet in the process.
Deftly, I snagged her elbow before she hit the wall.
“Thanks. Sorry. Thanks.” She dropped her chin and studied her feet.
“My gym bag is in my truck.” I hiked a thumb over my shoulder. “I can change before heading back to the office.” Ugh. I hated the sound of that.The office. I was not the kind of guy who wanted to be tied to a desk. But since my semi-public meltdown last fall, Henri, who was the CEO of our family’s fourth-generation lumber company, had relegated me to office duty.
I missed being outdoors, missed the crews and the long days spent in a crane or hauling logs down the Golden Road from the Northern Maine wilderness. But Henri did what was best for the company, so I’d do my time and work to earn the trust of my family members again while I was there.
She backed away, and I dropped her elbow. Her face was still flaming and her attention was still fixed on the floor. “Sorry,” she repeated, pushing up her glasses. “About this whole thing.”
“It was my fault. You had your hands full, and I wasn’t looking. I deserved it.”
“No one deserves a pie in the face.” She giggled again, spurring me to join in. She tilted her head and finally peered up at me, an adorable smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose visible now that her face wasn’t coated in blueberry pie filling.
I ran my hands through my sticky hair. “I sort of do. I walked in here feeling sorry for myself and got a pie in the face. Trust me, things can only get better from here.”
Hazel patted my arm and gave me a genuine smile. “Good to see you, Remy. I’ll mop up the rest of the mess. Bernice promised to feed me, so it’s the least I can do. You go back to work.”
I headed back to my truck, still sticky and laughing. The town rumor mill was inevitably going crazy with this one already, and it was only a matter of time before the texts rolled in. If my nephew Tucker got a hold of a photo, he’d have dozens of memes created by the end of the day, and I’d probably go viral for all the wrong reasons. That kid was too smart for his own good.
I jumped in my truck with our takeout containers and headed back to the office feeling surprisingly lighter. Even covered in pie. Yes, I was stuck in the office and my motivation had up and disappeared, but there were good things to come.
As I drove, the smell of blueberry pie filling my truck, Tim’s words swirled around in my brain. Competition season was coming up. And I wanted this. I had spent so many years striving to make it to the next level.
And letting Crystal ruin me like this? It was giving her too much power.
I wanted so badly to be more. To do more. If I could go pro, get sponsors, and make a living pursuing my passions, I could support my mom and honor my dad, who’d spent his life in the forest and had taught me to swing an axe.
Tim made it sound easy. Training, branding, sponsors. But it still felt so far away. I could go for a run tonight. Head up to Henri’s and chop for a bit. I had to start somewhere, right?
Seeing Hazel—laughing adorably with blueberry streaked across her face had pulled me out of my funk. Just thinking about her made me smile.
Maybe things weren’t totally shit after all.
Chapter3
Hazel
My first full day back in Lovewell was certainly eventful.
I hadn’t factored in time to shower, but I ran back to Dylan’s and scrubbed the pie out of my hair before I had to be at the bar.
Poor Remy. He had gotten the worst of it. And I felt like such an idiot. I wasn’t a klutz, but when a big, broad-shouldered wall of lumberjack bumped into me, staying upright while also saving the pies was impossible.
Oh, Remy Gagnon. My older brother’s best friend and my first crush. The middle schooler inside me was mortified that I’d pied the cool, hot dude in the face. The adult woman inside me was also mortified, but I was forcing myself to move past it. I probably wouldn’t see him much, anyway. He worked a lot and was constantly training for those lumberjack competitions. A lot of people up here, men and women, competed locally and even regionally, but Remy was the real deal. He’d been winning events since high school and was talented enough to move up to the pro circuit.
But I wasn’t here to think about Remy Gagnon. I was on a mission. One I would not give up on. I had come a long way since my Mountain Meadows days. I’d worked tirelessly to put myself through college and grad school—there was no luck involved there; only grit and humility—though now I’d boomeranged back to my hometown.
But only for a little while.
