Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 130(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 130(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
He’s my Daddy.
As if I willed him to appear, the door of the bar slams open, bashing off the adjacent wall, and there is my magnificent lumberjack, outlined in a combination of moonlight and neon, courtesy of the Coors Light sign blinking in the window. He sweeps everyone in the room with a murderous glance, cracking his knuckles against a giant palm, that chest—which I know to be covered in glorious black hair—heaving with irritation.
My sex wells with moisture and soaks my panties before he’s taken one step.
I’m hot. I’m hot everywhere.
It takes all my self-control not to run across the bar and leap into his arms, but…
No.
No, I came on way too strong earlier.
I’d only just met the man, and I asked him to be part of my life! Hello? Could I give off any more of a psycho, wanna-be girlfriend vibe? I made it clear I wanted something serious from him, which only led to him leaving. Therefore, I can’t do that again.
Play it cool.
You just want a fling.
At least, that’s what I’ll let him think.
Honestly, though, if a fling is all Penn can offer me, I’ll take that, too. There’s virtually zero chance of me finding another man who has this effect on my body. Another man who makes me want to offer up my virginity on a silver Tiffany platter.
Penn has almost reached my side of the bar, and I tug anxiously on my skirt, shifting in my high heels. No idea what to do with my hands. So awkward.
You’re an actress. Act like you’re cool.
I swallow a pinecone. “Well,” I say, striving for breezy. “Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, he walks into mine.”
He stops in front of me, raising an eyebrow.
Idiot. “I quote Casablanca when I’ve had too much caffeine.”
He grunts. “You planning on being this fucking cute all night?”
A giddy sensation ripples through me. “Is that going to be a problem for you?”
That sharp gaze sweeps down to the hem of my miniskirt. “Yup.”
My tummy freefalls, like I just dropped from the highest height of a roller coaster. “Too bad, I guess,” I say, totally breathless. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
Drag me out of here into the dark and use me. Any part of me. Use it.
Can’t say that out loud, can I?
“Get up,” Penn says, yanking the closest crew member off his stool, tossing him to the side. “Weren’t you taught to offer a lady your seat?” He hauls the stool out and angles it into the corner. Then he picks me up and settles me onto the warm leather, blocking me from the rest of the patrons. “There, baby. You’re okay now.”
I hiccup once and dive into his welcome flannel chest, twining my arms around his tree-trunk waist. Not playing it cool at all. Whimpering my pent-up fear into the hard wall of his body, letting him absorb the feeling and replace it with security.
“You smell like the forest,” I sigh.
He clears his throat. “That’s where I spend most of my time.”
“Because you love being a lumberjack? Or is it just a job?”
“Nah, I love it. Giving the trees a noble send-off. Knowing they’re going to be immortalized in someone’s home or framing a piece of art in a museum. Planting the next generation in the earth and watching them stretch for the sky. It’s humbling.”
My pulse skips. “That’s beautiful, Penn.”
He grunts.
“Where is your daughter tonight?”
“Babysitter,” he answers, rubbing my back. “She can stay there as long as it takes to get you home safely, Jenna. But goddamn, you shouldn’t be here in the first place. It’s obvious you’re not comfortable.”
I soak up his intuitiveness. His care. “They’ve been bringing me to parties and clubs and bars since I was fifteen. I saw a lot of things I was too young to see.” I swallow. “I guess I should be grateful I never got used to them. Being uncomfortable means I’m not numb. Yet.”
“Fifteen?” Penn turns his head long enough to pin someone with a look of pure malice. “I’ll be having a word with your manager while you’re in town.”
Why do I get the feeling that “have a word” means physical harm?
I tip my head back all the way, the ends of my hair tickling the small of my back. “Okay. But you should know that…I could fire my manager tomorrow and I’d end up with someone else just like him. This is the industry. Young girls are expected to be savvy enough to fend for themselves. There’s no instruction manual. We’re just…thrown into the lion’s den. And we’re only taught to do one thing—get the part. By any means necessary. Stay relevant. Be seen a certain way. Be seen at all. The things that used to ground us slowly begin to fade away until we forget what it’s like to be grounded at all.”