Page 24 of Lumberjack Bride
A chess piece carved from wood. A small bride with a bouquet of roses.
My heart skips.
Leo sets it down in my open palm. “I can’t tell you what we’ll be like five years from now,” he says. “Your parents didn’t know that, either, but they still went for it. They stayed together. For better or worse, they stayed together.”
I turn the piece over in my hand, admiring the details of her wedding dress and her little face and the flowers in her hands.
“Hazel, we’re gonna screw up,” he continues. “We’re gonna get frustrated with each other and we’re gonna fight. God knows we already bicker enough already, but just know... that whatever happens, I’ll stay. That’s what true love is. You don’t run. You stay. And I want to stay with you.”
He turns and takes short strides toward his truck.
I run my finger along the piece, feeling the little notches and cuts, all the little details that make it come alive.
“Leo...” I say, my voice breaking.
“What?” he asks, his hand hovering over the door handle.
I stand up, nearly fumbling on quaking knees. His eyes flash a glimmer of hope as I walk toward him across the short lawn.
I extend my hand and he opens his as I drop the piece into his palm.
“This looks nothing like me,” I say.
His frown fades into a look of surprise. “I carved it at night,” he says. “In the dark. You’re lucky she has a head.”
I turn up my nose. “Is this what you think my dress looks like? I’m not a nun.”
“No, I have no idea what your dress looks like. I had to make it up and this looks nothing like a nun’s habit.”
“Then, what’s that?” I tease, pointing toward the head.
“It’s a veil!”
“Really?” I look again. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t whittle a translucent veil into a basswood block,” he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’ll try harder next time.”
“And I’m wearing my hair up, not down.”
His lips curl. “Are you?”
“Well, yeah. It’s an outdoor wedding in the middle of summer. The last thing I want to mess with is humidity.”
He exhales slowly and takes a quick step forward. I stiffen as he rests his hands on my hips and pulls me closer.
“Leo...” I warn, leaning back. “It’s not the wedding night yet—”
“I don’t care.”
He picks me up and crushes his mouth on mine, seducing me with the gentle tug of his teeth on my lips.
My urges ignite with the scratch of his beard on my face, filling me with warmth and comfort. I let the feeling overwhelm me. Tears spill down my cheeks and I cling to him as if he could disappear at any moment.
Leo pulls away but he keeps his strong arms latched around me. “Why are you crying?” he asks with a chuckle.
I sniff. “Because I’m sorry.”
He kisses my forehead. “It’s okay.”