“Dirty boots, too.”
That’s it. I’m out.
Are they seriously talking about me like this? So, what if I wear flannels? They’re warm and comfortable. And yeah, my boots have dirt on them. I live in nature. I’m a hard-working motherfucker, andif Grace’s family and friends have a problem with that, then fuck them.
I storm back to my bedroom and…
Shit.
Am I just some kind of itch she’s trying to scratch? Is she attracted to me because I’m the big no-no she’s not allowed to be around? Like I’m some kind of forbidden fruit to chomp on? Is she hooking up with me because she’s truly attracted to me, or is it because I’m the opposite of what she’s “supposed” to want? Maybe I’m just a phase. Hot lumberjack dudes are a thing on the internet. It’s why I started thirst trapping to begin with.
But Grace was supposed to be different.
I thought she saw me. I thought she loved this mountain like I do. Opening my heart and showing her my sacred places around here was a big leap on my part. The look on her face? The understanding in her eyes? It wasn’t there. Not like I thought. Overhearing this conversation with her friend proves that I only saw what I wanted to see, and the reality is I’m not good enough for her and she knows it.
I’m a good time. A temporary distraction.
A fucking joke.
Stuffing my boots back on, I grab my keys and march out of my house to sleep in one of the cabins. I don’t trust myself to be this close to what I thought was a miracle.
Guess, I was right all along. I’m not meant to find love.
I’m just a convenient fuck.
The next morning, my back is so stiff I can barely roll out of bed. Wow, these mattresses are awful. I can’t believe no one’s complained about them before. Should I replace them or leave them be?
I’ll think about this problem another day. There’s too much I have to finish right now. With a mask on my face, I sand the drywall down and pretend I don’t see Grace when she walks through the door with Oscar.
I left my dog with her last night because even though I may have needed to get away, I’m not about to leave Grace stranded and abandoned completely. Oscar would alert her if there were any problems, which there never are because my house is a fortress.
“Good morning,” she says, a little flustered. “You got up super early.”
I don’t take the bait. Maybe she didn’t even realize I’d left her in the middle of the night.
“I brought you down a coffee.”
“Thanks. Just leave it on the table.” I grab a fresh piece of sandpaper and continue working.
“It’s snowing.”
I keep quiet.
“We’ve got to make more videos today and stockpile them.” She shimmies out of her coat and hangs it on the dining room chair. “I also need to do some mini shoots for my clients, too. I’m a little behind schedule.”
My mouth stays shut.
“I emailed the outdoor clothing company on your behalf. I’ve got pull there, so we should hear back from them pretty quickly.”
I still don’t say anything.
Carrying our coffees over, her brow furrows. “Are you okay, Dean?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“You seem… off.”
My stomach twists because this isn’t how a grown man should behave. But do I really want to pick a fight with her?
