City slicker Ami Jordan was just dumped by her back-stabbing boyfriend, has no job prospects, and can't find a decent cup of coffee in the entire state of Vermont. The last thing she needs is a sexy, bearded lumberjack complicating her life. Even if he’s smart, talented, and has the hottest ass she’s ever seen.
Tree house builder, environmental champion, and Bulldog owner Marcus Anderson has no patience for flatlanders with an attitude. But when landscape designer Ami Jordan shows up at his log cabin, he suddenly develops a hankering for a high-maintenance city gal. Now his house looks like a jungle, his recycling is in disarray, and his libido's on fire.
He's a lumberjack in love.
Ami rounded the corner of the house and stopped dead in her tracks. She had no idea what Mr. Anderson looked like from the front. But from the back, he was no grizzled old man. A massive specimen of masculinity raised an ax high above his head, then crushed it down on a log, propped on another stump. His arms bulged beneath a thin T-shirt, sweat drenched his back. Faded blue jeans hugged his ass and meaty-looking thighs. His ensemble was completed by a pair of scuffed up work boots, and a navy-blue skull cap on his head. He stopped momentarily, leaned over to grab a rag, and wiped the handle of the ax. Ami still couldn't get a glimpse of his face, but the view from behind was certainly...well... impressive.
Ami bristled. "What's it to ya?"
He swung the ax again, splitting the log in front of him, and the two half-pieces tumbled to the ground.
Ami must have squeaked unwittingly. She didn't mean to squeak. But suddenly Marcus Anderson's head whipped around and he leveled her with an aggravated glare. Whoa, Nelly. Looking pretty good from the front side, too.
The mountain man dropped the ax to the ground and stalked over to where she stood, immobilized in place. His face was dark, thunderous, and absolutely freaking gorgeous. Electric blue eyes, high cheekbones, and a thick lush beard that Ami wanted to rub all over. Now where did that crazy thought come from? I don't even like beards! Think ZZ Top, think Santa Claus, think...think....
Ami's thought process stalled as the giant man stopped right in front of her and leaned down to eye level.
"Can I help you with something? Since you're trespassing?" his voice rumbled. His eyes raked over her, taking in her leather duster, Coach purse, and stiletto boots, and he glanced heavenward.