NOTE: This bonus scene is now INCLUDED in the updated first person edition of Touching Wood.
Eight Months Later
OPHELIA
I loved watching Logan work. I loved the way his hands gripped a length of wood, how he fed it through his machines with perfect, smooth precision. How he set a piece he’d cut into a notch like it was born to be there.
It was kind of like how I felt with him. Like I fit perfectly when I was tucked into his shoulder when we lay in bed. How our lives had notched together so seamlessly, as if we’d always been meant to weave them together.
He blew the sawdust off the piece he’d been working on and looked up. “Aren’t you supposed to be working?”
“I like watching you better,” I said, with a devilish grin.
Logan’s lips lifted up at the corner and he shook his head. “You’re going to be the death of me, Ophelia Bradley.”
“I know.”
Of course, Logan was right—I did need to get back to work. Now that I’d moved in with Logan, I could just as easily come visit him from my home office as go to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Though I usually restrained myself. We were both small business owners and knew how important it was to respect our working hours. Even if it didn’t always work.
This morning, the only reason I’d come into his workshop was to inform him we now had dinner plans. One of my new clients, an electrician named Eli, was going to be dropping off a gift card for Gastronomique later today. It was the best restaurant in Jewel Lakes County.
“I was going to include it in my anniversary gift package for my wife,” Eli had said over the phone. “I make one up every year. But she’s traveling for business. Again.”
An anniversary gift package—the man was romantic.
Not like Logan needed any tips—he swept me off my feet every damn day. Just this morning he’d gotten up early and made me a terrible latte with the fancy new machine I’d bought myself as a housewarming gift when I’d moved in with him. The man only knew how to make shoepolish-strength drip, so him fiddling with the shiny chrome machine downstairs, leading to a string of adorable cursing and a splatter of steamed milk that was still on his nose when he came upstairs to hand deliver it to me, just about did me in. It was so sweet I’d even pretended to drink it.
When Eli had called, I was still sipping the new one I’d snuck into the kitchen and made after Logan headed out to his workshop.
But unlike with Logan, Eli’s romantic gestures seemed not to be doing anything to enhance his marriage. The pause on the other end of the line had drawn out. Then Eli said, “Please, I’d much prefer it if you took it. The sentiment has gone kind of sour over here.”
I knew what fighting sounded like. I’d done enough of that with Rick. I knew, too, how a gift that was meant to be so special could become a sore spot.
Eli wouldn’t hear any of my offers for money, telling me instead to consider it a tip for how much easier I’d made his life. It reminded me why I loved my little business so much. Not for the perks, but for knowing how much I liked helping people in their own businesses.
So it was true I didn’t normally bug Logan at work. But the idea of seeing Logan dressed up in a suit and tie, his broad chest filling out a jacket so deliciously that all I’d want to do is slip it off of him, was proving to be too much to go back to my desk with.
“I came to ask my boyfriend out on a date,” I said now, striding over to him. Even just thinking that word made warmth bloom in my chest. I still couldn’t get over the fact that I could say “my boyfriend” and actually feel swoony about it.
“Oh, really?” Logan asked. “Is it because you find me” —he slipped on a pair of protective eye goggles— “so deeply sexy?”
I couldn’t help it, I burst out laughing. “You know what? Yes. I do. Especially in those.”
He grinned, flexing his muscles in a mock strong-man pose.
Even though it was a joke, I couldn’t help the surge of warmth that spread in my lower abdomen as I took in the cut of his biceps.
“Well,” said Logan, pulling off the eye gear. “I might consider accepting, on one condition.”
“Oh yean?” I asked, snaking my arms around his neck. “What’s that?”
“I want you to tell me what you’ll be wearing to a fancy dinner.”
My stomach flipped. I kissed his neck. He smelled of sawdust and pine and cedar. And of Logan.
“Hmm,” I said, pressing myself against him. “Let me think…”
Logan responded almost instantly, his hardness jumping in the space between us.
“I was thinking about that black dress,” I said. “The silky one that comes down to about…” I turned, pressing my ass into him as I bent over. I pressed my hand against my thigh. “Here.”
Logan groaned. “So, about like this?” he asked. He was bunching up the fabric of the flowy skirt I was now thrilled I’d chosen to wear, despite the cool weather outside, in his fists.
“Yeah,” I said.
“And what about underneath the dress?” he asked.
Electricity jolted through me. He’d paused just before he reached my ass.
“I could wear that pair of lacy black underwear you like.”
“I like them all,” he said, letting go of the fabric. He gripped my hips and pulled me back against him. His jeans were tight against me.
I let out a little moan. He angled me so I was leaning over his workbench. “I also like nothing at all.” His voice was rough in a way I recognized, a way that drove me wild every time I heard it. It was the tone of voice that said I want you. Now.
Logan’s hands slid up under my sweater, his fingers slipping my bra up over my breasts. He grazed his palms across my nipples.
“Oh Logan,” I breathed, pressing my ass against him once more.
“Ophelia,” he said. Then he pulled my bra back down.
I gasped, turning around to face him. “What? You’re just going to tease me?”
His need was clear in his eyes. He pulled me toward him, then reached up and gripped my face in his hands. He kissed me so delicately, his tongue flicking against mine, I lost all train of thought. “I want you so badly I can barely see straight,” he said against my lips. “But I have a client coming by any minute.”
As if on cue, his phone buzzed on the bench behind me.
He glanced over my shoulder at it, reading the text. “Jake’s leaving Ruby Lake right now.”
When our eyes met, I could see us him doing the same calculation I was doing. If his client was in his car, he’d be here in… twelve minutes.
“Plenty of time,” I said.
Logan grinned. “Should I be insulted?”
“No way. This was all I have time for too. That’s why I made things easy for you.” I pushed aside his sander and piece of wood on the bench, then I jumped up onto it, hiking my skirt up to the tops of my thighs. Then I parted my legs just enough that he could see that this morning, I’d opted for nothing at all.
Logan groaned. “It’s almost like you planned this.”
“I didn’t, I swear,” I said. “Though you haven’t fucked me since yesterday morning so maybe it was…”
But I couldn’t continue, because Logan had pushed my skirt all the way up and dipped his face in between my legs. With the first touch of his tongue, electricity shot through me, the sensation so deep and pure I let out a high-pitched whimper.
“You like that, Ophelia?” he asked, pulling back just an inch.
“Yes,” I said. “God, yes.”
Logan brought his tongue back down onto my clit in a fast, constant flicker, so intense I came, right there on his bench, in a matter of seconds. Pleasure ripped through me, making me buck against him. He stood up, unbuckling his jeans.
“Now,” I said, still breathless. Still reeling. “We don’t have much time.”
“Just once more,” he said, bending down again. He repeated the flickering tongue trick and once again I seized with the intensity of it, going over the edge almost immediately.
I was still shuddering when he pulled himself out of his shorts, glancing up at the clock on the wall.
“Plenty of time,” he agreed.
“Then what are you waiting for?” My gaze was fixed on the tip of his hard shaft and the clear liquid beading at its top.
Logan lifted me off the bench, and without even lowering me on my feet, slid me down onto him.
I cried out as he filled me, wrapping my legs around his body. He backed me up against the bench, the wood against my lower back, his hand supporting my shoulders. Logan buried his face in my neck as he thrust into me, over and over again, my name on his lips, his lips moving to my ear.
“I love you, Ophelia Bradley,” he said. “I’ve always loved you.”
He came inside me with minutes to spare, and the sensation of him swelling and releasing sent more waves through me. Finally, even with his jeans tangled at his ankles, Logan managed to lower me gently down onto my feet. For a moment I leaned back against the bench, watching him pull his shorts and jeans back up.
Then I slipped away to his shop bathroom to clean up. “I didn’t even get to touch wood this time,” I complained after coming back out.
Logan rolled his eyes at my bad joke, but laughed, too. “We have our whole lives for you to touch my wood, my angel,” he said. Then he pulled the goggles back on.
I was still laughing when a sharp rapping at his door made me jump.
“That’s your appointment,” I said. “I’ll let you get back to it.” I kissed him one last time before heading to the door. “But I can still help you with client support, one last time, if you like?”
He laughed. “Please. You were the best I ever had.”
I smiled at the innuendo as I opened the door. But the smile fell off my lips when I saw what was out there. A storm was brewing; wind whipping the orange-leafed tree limbs around. A gale swept right into the open door.
But the storm wasn’t half as dark in the sky as it was in the eyes of the man standing before me.
He was handsome, I’d give him that. Tall and intense, he somehow made even the plaid jacket he was wearing look serious.
“Oh,” he said. His dark look seemed to soften slightly. “Is Logan here?”
It was clear by his softening voice that his storm wasn’t directed at Logan, so I stepped aside, allowing him a view of my boyfriend. Even though I was leaving, I closed the door behind him for a moment to keep out the storm. It didn’t seem like the time to cheerily introduce myself as I might have done, but Logan, pulling his silly goggles off once more, did the honors. “Jake Colson—this is my girlfriend Ophelia.”
Colson—I felt like I knew that name, but Jake didn’t look familiar to me. I would have remembered a stormily handsome man like this if I’d seen him around before.
His handshake was firm—almost crushing, and he seemed to realize it only after I winced. “Shit, I’m so sorry.” He pulled his hand away and ran a hand through his hair.
“Please, come in,” Logan said.
I took the opportunity to grab the coat I’d thrown over the chair next to the door and moved to head out the door.
“I’m being sued,” Jake said as he stepped further inside. “So the job I needed you for might be off.”
“You need a lawyer?” Logan asked. “Ophelia knows one.”
I had my hand on the door handle already, but I turned. “One of my clients is a lawyer in Millerville. But I’m not sure what your… issue is,” I said. “He’s a tax lawyer.”
“Thanks,” Jake said to me. “I’m okay for now.”
“I’ll leave you two be then,” I said.
“Sorry for meeting you like this…” Jake said, “Under the circumstances…”
I felt a swell of pity for the man. Whatever his situation was, it didn’t sound great. “It’s fine,” I said softly. “Good luck.”
I’d been right about the suit. Before we left for Gastronomique, I’d spent a whole minute admiring how he filled it out, until Logan had threatened to take it off again. I’d waggled my brows and he’d practically had to drag me to the car.
Now I stared again as Logan sipped at the Bordeaux I’d asked the waiter for. After I’d ordered it I’d leaned over and whispered, “I have no idea what I’m doing.”
Logan had laughed. “You sure sounded like you did.”
After we ordered our food, I made Logan tell me a little more about Jake. The name was familiar, I realized, after Logan explained his grandparents had run a summer camp over on Ruby Lake years ago.
“Camp Colson!” I exclaimed. “My mom went to there as a kid! I always wanted to go but it was shut down by the time I was old enough.”
“That’s the job I was going to do for him,” Logan said. “Fixing up the interior of the old mess hall. It’s a beautiful spot. Jake’s planning on reviving it as some kind of rehabilitation camp for troubled kids. His brother James went through some trouble and… well, he’s naming the camp after him.”
My chest ached. It was a nice way of saying he’d died. I thought of my own brother, Heath, who was very much alive, but who’d lost his wife a couple of years ago. Even though I hadn’t been that far away before, I was seeing a lot more of Heath and his daughter now that we lived only a few minutes apart. It was amazing, having him so close, but I was keenly aware of his loss even more now.
“I couldn’t imagine losing someone so close,” I said, surprised to feel my eyes prickling with tears, both for Jake, and for Heath.
“Yeah, that’s bad enough. But he might not even be able to build the camp now. The owner of the property next door is suing him over some kind of property dispute. The owner is some fancy New York City lawyer, so it doesn’t look good for Jake.”
I thought of poor Jake’s stormy eyes. But I couldn’t ask anything else, because the waiter came with our first course, endive and some kind of creamy cheese and balsamic glaze. As we dug in, we both agreed to move on to happier talk, which wasn’t hard given the food orgasm currently happening in my mouth.
I closed my eyes as I savored the food. “This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”
“Not me,” Logan said around a piece of endive.
My stomach jumped with the memory of this morning. I opened my eyes. “Is that right?”
“Yeah, that’s right,” Logan said, licking a drop of balsamic off his thumb and winking at me. “But I think you’d taste even better as dessert.”
“Shh!” I said, giggling. I was sure the patrons next to us would hear, but they appeared to be enjoying their food as much as we were.
I leaned back in my chair, not taking my eyes off Logan. “You know, I think I’m the luckiest woman alive,” I said.
“Why’s that?”
“Because I’m madly in love with the sweetest, most talented, hottest man I’ve ever known. Even if this morning I didn’t get to…” I trailed off, suggestively.
“Don’t say it,” he said. Now it was his turn to glance to the other tables, though I was fairly certain he didn’t care in the least who heard. “This is a fine establishment.”
I leaned over. “What, I can’t say I want to touch your wood?”
Logan pursed his lips, trying not to burst out laughing, I could tell. Then, he reached over and took my hand, bringing it to his lips. “I love you Ophelia Bradley. You light up my life.”
It didn’t even sound corny when he said it. It sounded perfect.
“I love you too.”
And I did. I really, truly did.
* * *
Thanks for reading this bonus scene! I hope you loved this sneak peek into Logan and Ophelia’s happily ever after.
Want more Jewel Lakes? Read Jake Colson’s story in Jewel Lakes Book One: HER PROPERTY, available now!
