Lumberjack BRIDE (Lumberjack DUET Book 2) Read online

  I open my mouth to answer the question but the Reverend Moore talks over me.

  “And then, you’ll say I do.” He waves a nonchalant hand. “And then, I’ll ask Hazel. Do you take this man, yadda yadda yadda. You’ll say that you do. There will be rings and all that jazz. Then, finally, I’ll declare you husband and wife. You’ll kiss, they’ll cry, and that’ll be that.”

  I exhale as images flood my head. “Sounds simple enough.”

  He snaps his notebook closed. “Do you have any questions?” he asks us, eagerly scratching his white mustache. He scans the small group behind us. “Anyone at all?”

  I look over my shoulder. Bobby stands behind me, texting quietly, while Claudia lingers behind Hazel with her thumbnail between her teeth.

  My parents sit in two white folding chairs in the front row. Dad looks a little bored but Mom holds a tissue beneath her pink, swollen eyes.

  I shake my head. “It’s just the rehearsal, Mom.”

  “Oh, shut up,” she says, sniffling.

  Hazel chuckles quietly.

  “Well, if that’s it...” Moore says. “I have a date with my wife and my in-laws in Missoula tonight, but I’ll be right back here two days from now — at sunset — and we’ll get you two married.”

  I extend my hand and he shakes it. “Thanks, Reverend.”

  “It’s my pleasure.” He shifts toward Hazel and she takes his hand with a wide smile on her face. “Say hi to your grandmother for me, will ya, honey?”

  “I will,” she says. “Thanks again for coming out here.”

  I look out across the lake, taking a deep breath of fresh air as I admire the scenery. Sunset by the water. That’s how Hazel wanted to get married and I didn’t question it for a moment. Luckily, we just so happen to have a dock and a large enough lawn to accommodate a small wedding party.

  It took a few strong words to convince my mother to keep it small. While she easily could have filled a mega-church with dozens upon dozens of extended relatives and another few hundred of my father’s business associates, I wasn’t about to put Hazel through something like that. The groom’s side would overflow. The bride’s side would be empty.

  It’s just her and her grandmother now. She has no one else.

  I look at Hazel, catching the edges of her mouth as her smile slowly fades.

  My mother sniffs as she stands up from her chair. “Well, I don’t know about the rest of you but I’m going to be a blubbering mess by the end of this.”

  Claudia rolls her painted eyes. “I don’t even want to think about how embarrassing you’ll be at my wedding.”

  “I am not embarrassing.” Mom looks at us. “Have I embarrassed you, Hazel?”

  Hazel shakes her head. “Not at all, Gale.”

  Mom stands taller. “See? And you’ll have to actually have a boyfriend before you can get married, sweetie.”

  Claudia scoffs. “I’ve had plenty of boyfriends, Mom.”

  “Exactly.”

  I exhale hard. “Here we go.”

  Dad stands up, looking as weary as I feel. “I’m with Leo on this one. Can we skip to the part when I slip Claudia a twenty when you’re not looking to make her feel better?”

  Claudia perks up and slides over to him as he reaches into his back pocket. “Fine by me,” she says.

  Mom glares at him. “Laurence...”

  He hands the money to Claudia.

  “Thanks, Daddy.” She pops up onto her toes and pecks his cheek. “Anyway, I’m heading home but...” she twists toward Hazel, “I’ll be at the hotel bright and early tomorrow to prepare for the p-a-r-t-y...”

  Hazel shushes her as my jaw drops. “Claud.”

  My sister slaps a hand to her mouth. “Whoops. I mean... for the little, girly get-together where nothing naughty was ever going to happen. No, sir. Bye.”

  She runs off, abandoning us before I can say anything.

  “We’ll be going, too,” my mother says as she leans in to hug me. She kisses my cheek. “Proud of you, honey.”

  “Thanks, Mom,” I say.

  Dad gives a quick wave and they turn to walk away.

  “Goodnight,” Hazel tells them, showing them her warmest smile as she avoids my eyes.

  I take a quick step into her line-of-sight. “A party?” I ask. “Like… a bachelorette party?”

  Bobby’s excited eyes silently bounce between us.

  Hazel bites her lip. “Okay. Well... No, not a bachelorette party, per se…”

  “You said no bachelor party,” I say. “I assumed that included the -lorette version as well.”

  “It did,” she squeaks. “But Claudia wanted to welcome me to the family and I never had a sister and she made this huge deal out of it and I...” Her voice falls. “She’s very persuasive.”

  “So, you were going to have a secret bachelorette party the night before our wedding?”

  She deflates. “Well, when you put it like that, it’s pretty bad.”

  Bobby pulls out his phone. “Leo, I have several strippers on speed dial for occasions such as this. Just say the word.”

  Hazel frowns at him. “You have strippers on speed dial?”

  I step between them. “He’s a very good assistant,” I say, defending him.

  “Thank you, sir,” he says.

  Hazel’s expression shifts and she gazes up at me with soft, seductive eyes. “It was just going to be me, and your little sister, and a few of her friends playing dress-up at the hotel with champagne and room service. I’ve already told the front desk not to allow anyone up to my room that looked like their pants were held together with Velcro.”

  Bobby nudges my leg. “Don’t fall for it, man,” he whispers. “Strippers.”

  I look from her to Bobby’s eager grin. He holds up his phone, begging for me to let him make that call. Another glance at Hazel’s big eyes and the decision is made.

  I shake my head. “Stand down, Bob.”

  He sighs. “Fine. I’ll just save that one for my sister’s wedding next month.”

  Hazel blinks in confusion. “You’d call strippers for your sister?”

  “No, for me.”

  I clear my throat. “So, you and Claudia will have your little not-party while Bobby and I will, too. It’ll just be me, and him, and Pearl, with beer and pizza. That sounds nice, right?”

  She nods. “I’ll allow it.”

  Bobby rolls his eyes. “Yeah, all right.”

  “And then...” I pull her closer with a firm hand wrapped around her waist. “The next night, we’ll be standing right here again at sunset.”

  “And we’ll get married,” she says.

  I smile. “Yes, we will.”

  My lips graze her cheek and she blushes.

  “Anyway...” Bobby groans. “I’m gonna go grab a drink because I’m still young and single and I can do whatever I want.”

  “Bye, Bob,” I say, barely glancing away from Hazel’s smile.

  As he walks away, Hazel slowly squints at me.

  “And that’s why I didn’t let him plan you a bachelor party,” she says.

  “Yeah,” I say. “Good call.”

  Hazel takes a step back, letting her arms fall to my side. “Drive me home, please.”

  I glance at our house behind us. “You are home,” I point out.

  She tilts her head, flashes a soft smile, and walks off toward my truck in the driveway.

  I park in the circle drive just outside the hotel. The sun has already set by the time we arrive, leaving the only illumination a few dim lights surrounding the road outside.

  Hazel pops open her seatbelt and slides it back. “Thanks for the ride,” she says, reaching for the door.

  “Whoa, hey...” I pull the parking brake and the truck lurches slightly. “I’m walking you up.”

  “You don’t have to walk me up.”

  “It’s after dark,” I urge. “There could be any number of dangers lurking between here and your room.”

  She scoffs. “Leo, this is
Whitefish, Mont—”

  I’m already on the pavement by the time she even says it. I shut the door behind me and catch her rolling her laughing eyes through the window.

  We walk into the hotel and I give the front desk girl a wave. She smiles back at us, practically swooning just like everyone else who finds out why Hazel’s been living here for the last two weeks. I reach out and take her hand as we cross the open lobby, instantly drawing a high-pitched squeal from behind the desk.

  We ride the elevator up to the fourth floor. Hazel fishes around her purse to find her key with her free hand while I keep a tight grip on the other.

  “Leo...” She chuckles and gently tugs to try and free herself.

  “Not yet,” I say, squeezing her fingers.

  She pushes the door open but blocks me from walking inside. “No...” she says, her brow furrowed with warning.

  “Just five minutes,” I beg. “Please.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “And why not?”

  “Because I know what you’re capable of in just five minutes.”

  I lean in, filling my nose with her sweet scent. “Okay...” I sigh, reaching out to draw a line along her cheek. “Just kiss me goodbye and I’ll be on my way.”

  She presses her lips together and leans away from me.

  My jaw drops. “Oh, come on.”

  “I don’t think we should tempt it, Leo. You’re not the only one turning blue down there...”

  “You won’t even kiss me?” I ask. “We kissed goodbye last night.”

  “I know.”

  “And the night before that.”

  “I know that, too... but...” She smiles. “It’s just two more nights.”

  I stare straight ahead into her room, feeling the strong urge to pick her up and throw her onto that bed until she’s screaming my name. “I can’t believe I agreed to this.”

  She straightens the collar on my flannel. “Just imagine how wonderful our wedding night will be,” she whispers. “Just me and you and—”

  “All that pent-up sexual frustration,” I mutter.

  “Exactly.”

  I exhale, giving up, but I’m not ready to go home yet. I lean my head against the doorframe, admiring Hazel in the bright lights of the hallway.

  “I miss you,” I tell her.

  “I miss you,” she says.

  “Pearl does, too.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “She’s moping around the house,” I say, laughing. “Whining at the door, hoping you’ll come walking back in.”

  “Aww.” She throws on a pout. “Poor girl.”

  “She’s mad at me, obviously. Probably thinks I did something to piss you off.”

  “Well, you tell Pearl that I’ll be home soon.”

  “Just two more nights,” I say.

  “Just two more nights,” she parrots back.

  I catch sight of the brown box lying on her bed. “What’s that?” I ask.

  She turns to look. “Oh, just a few things Nana had sent over,” she answers, waving a hand. “Still trying to find something old for my wedding day attire and she found some old stuff of Mom’s in storage, so I figured I’d take a look...”

  I watch as a little color drains from her face. Hazel’s parents have been gone a year and a half now. We met shortly after their funerals and while she’s always been bright and strong in front of me, I’ll sometimes see her in moments of subtle sadness. I can’t imagine what that must feel like. And I don’t want to.

  “You sure you don’t want me to stay?” I ask. “Might find something blue in there.”

  She forces a smile. “No, I’ll be fine.” She points a finger. “There’s no way you’re getting past this threshold, so knock it off.”

  I raise my hands in surrender and take a step back. “Okay, okay. I’ll leave.” I look at the box again. “But you call me if you need me. I’ll come right back.”

  “I will. Thank you.”

  “I love you,” I say.

  Her smile widens. “I love you, too.”

  I kiss my palm to blow her a kiss. “Goodnight, Hazel.”

  She catches the phantom smooch. “Goodnight, Leo.”

  I drive back to the house, feeling a tug of loneliness deep in my gut as I pull into the driveway. It gets worse the second I see Pearl sitting on the porch. She stands up on all fours and wags her golden tail so hard it smacks against the banister as soon as the truck comes into view.

  I hop out and close the door behind me. She keeps that hopeful glint in her eyes until I reach the front door and she realizes that Hazel isn’t with me.

  “Pearl,” I say. “Come on.”

  She lets out a whine.

  I smile and take a knee. “I know, buddy. I miss her, too.” I scratch behind her ears. “But it’s just two more nights, and then, she’ll be back for the rest of our lives. All right? We can do two more nights, right?”

  Pearl looks back at me with a mixture of annoyance and doubt.

  “Trust me,” I say, tapping my chest. “Hazel is coming back.”

  Three

  Hazel

  I may never go home again.

  Twenty-four-seven room service, a full-service spa, a cleaning staff, and a giant bed all to myself?

  Sign me up.

  I relax onto the bed, wiggling back and forth to get extra comfortable against the thick pillows. I rub my fingers up and down the arms of my bathrobe — one that I’ll probably swipe on my way out of here. If I ever leave, that is…

  I glance around, searching for the television remote. It lies on the table by the bed, far away on the opposite side.

  “Leo, could you grab that—”

  I bite my tongue. I remember that he’s not here but the damage is already done.

  Ugh. Who am I kidding?

  I miss my lake house. And my dog. And the sound of Leo working away in his woodshop downstairs while I read in the little nook next to my parents’ honeymoon tree. I even miss Leo’s stupid, scratchy, sexy beard rubbing against my head as I snuggle up next to him in bed.

  I stare at his side. Cold and empty.

  Just two more nights.

  I abandon my quest for the remote and look at the brown box at the foot of the bed instead. My mother’s stuff. It’s not the first time I’ve gone through her belongings since she died. It was her diary that led me to Whitefish in the first place. The story of how she met my father changed my life and put me on the path to where I am now.

  The path to Leo.

  I grab the box and slide it closer. I peel away the tape’s edge and rip it free. As the lid creeps up, my nose twitches from her familiar scent. My mother wore the same perfume every single day of her life. It never changed. I inhale deeply, taking in my fill of her. My eyes water but another long breath forces them back down. Maybe I should have asked Leo to stay with me while I went through this.

  I push the urge to call him aside and open the box.

  There’s a layer of crumbled newspaper on top. I pull out the little balls and drop them onto the bed. There’s a small jewelry box made of black vinyl sitting on top. I open the lid, hoping to find a pair of earrings or a necklace that compliments my dress, but it’s empty.

  I set it down beside me and turn back to the box. A brown, leather-bound book sits beneath where the jewelry box was. A red cloth bookmark sticks out the edge of the pages. The cover is bent in three places. Used and abused. I thought I had all of my mother’s diaries already but I guess we missed one.

  I open it to the first page and smile at my mother’s handwriting.

  August 1997. I was five.

  I flip through the pages, scanning each line for any words that might jump out.

  Hazel told me today that she wanted to be a mermaid when she grew up. I told her that mermaids weren’t real. They were only make-believe but she didn’t care. She knew what she wanted. I hope she never loses that childish sense of logic. I know I have.

  I chuckle to myself, suddenly recalling m
y old obsession with mermaids before I flick over to the next page.

  Carter’s gone on business again. He didn’t even kiss me goodbye this time. I wonder if he noticed. Probably not.

  I saw Ryan again tonight.

  I stop reading to search my memory for a man named Ryan. I come up with nothing.

  I know I shouldn’t have gone to him. Every part of me told me not to. Except for one. Carter hasn’t touched me like that in a long time. Not like Ryan does.

  I let the diary slip from my fingers. It falls to the bed, the pages quickly flicking closed.

  This can’t be real. When I think of my parents, I picture nothing but moments of pure bliss and PDA. They never raised their voices or talked down to each other. They were happy, the total personification of every relationship goal I’ve ever had.

  But were they always that way? Was there a time way back before I could even notice when things were different?

  My mother cheated on my father. It’s right here in her own words. In black and white.

  Lover’s Trail was a lie. Everything about it was a lie. Why would fate bring them together here if they were destined to hurt each other?

  And is that what’s destined to happen to me and Leo?

  I glance around the empty hotel room, my eyes drifting slowly toward the white dress hanging on the closet door.

  I guess I did find something blue instead.

  Four

  Leo

  I wake up and my first thought is Hazel.

  That isn’t unusual. I can’t remember a morning (outside of the last fortnight, of course) when I didn’t immediately roll over and reach for her warm body in the dark.

  It starts with a soft caress along her arm and she’ll roll toward me out of reflex. Her head will hit my shoulder and we’ll snooze together until I absolutely have to get up and go to work.

  I reach out but she’s not there. My groin twitches in disappointment. Morning sex isn’t that unusual, either.

  The next time I touch her, she’ll be my wife.

  I’m getting married tomorrow. There’s nothing left to plan. The guests have RSVP’d. The cake and flowers are ready for delivery. The only thing left to do is say some vows and I’ve had those on the tip of my tongue for weeks now.