Lumberjack (A Real Man, 1)
of shape I was. But I’d been walking aimlessly around the woods for hours, not even sure how far I was from my cabin or town.
    The sound of wood being chopped suddenly stopped, and so did I. My heart was beating fast, and I adjusted the backpack I wore. I was out of water, only had one more granola bar left, and mosquitos were devouring me. Being inside sounded pretty damn good right now.
    The sound of a door opening and closing rang out, echoing off the trees and making my pulse jump a bit. There was obviously a door in the back of the cabin since I still couldn’t see anyone. And then I saw a massive shadow walk across the main window on the front of the cabin. There was a curtain covering the glass, but it was slightly sheer, and the shape—which had to belong to a man—looked huge.
    Would I rather face what’s in that cabin or what is roaming these woods at night?
    Stealing myself and forcing my feet to start moving again, I kept a tight, almost painful hold on the straps of my backpack and took the porch steps one at a time. Once I was in front of the door, I held my breath, hearing my heart thundering.
    Maybe a family lived here and I was just freaking myself out for nothing?
    I heard the sound of twigs snapping in the distance, or maybe that was just my over reactive imagination? Either way I wasn’t staying out here any longer. Without thinking about it anymore, I lifted my knuckles against on the door, and prayed whoever answered wasn’t a psycho.

    Jake
    T he sound of someone knocking on my door surprised me. I rarely got any visitors, and when I did, it was usually someone from work.
    But that was rare.
    I got off the couch, set my book on the coffee table, and walked toward the door. I took my ax off the hook by the door, and reached out for the handle. If it were someone who had no business being here, they’d find out pretty damn quickly what I could do with an ax.
    I pulled the door open and immediately lowered my gaze to the disheveled as fuck woman standing on the other side. Maybe I was a sick fucking bastard, but my cock instantly got rock hard when I saw her.
    She was gorgeous.
    Her hair was a wreck, with debris from the woods stuck in the fire colored strands.
    Red, my fucking favorite.
    I realized neither of us had said anything for long moments, and I noticed her focus was on the ax I held.
    “Um,” she said in a low, very feminine voice.
    I looked between her and my ax, and then set it aside.
    “I’m out in the middle of nowhere. I don’t get a lot of company,” I said, explaining why I was holding an ax so she wouldn’t be so freaked out. I didn’t say anything after that, just waited to hear what she had to say, and why she was standing on my doorstep looking like she’d been rolling down a hill.
    “I was hiking, but I’m lost,” she finally said, licking her lips after the words were out.
    She might be dirty as fuck from hiking, scared because she was lost and standing on a stranger’s doorstep, but despite all of that, I was fucking rock hard for her. I was a bastard for the filthy images playing through my head, but I couldn’t help my body’s reaction to a gorgeous woman.
    I hadn’t been with a woman in five fucking years.
    “Well, come in,” I said and stepped aside. She was hesitant, and took a few seconds before she stepped over the threshold. I shut the door and looked her up and down. The jeans she wore formed to her tight ass, and I ran my hand over my cheeks, feeling the beard covering my flesh.
    “Am I close to town?” she asked, her voice soft, tight. She turned around and faced me, and I stared into her light blue eyes.
    “You’re hours away from town.” I heard her exhale, and I could see she was nervous and frustrated, as well as tired.
    Just then the sound of thunder booming outside sounded.
    “Of course it’s about to storm,” she said under her breath.
    “You don’t get out much, do you?” I asked in all seriousness.
    She didn’t answer me

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