Page 52 of 10 Signs You Need to Grovel

“No.” She snort-laughs. “He purposely bought a small-fitting cotton shirt that wasn’t preshrunk so you wouldn’t question the size on the tag. He told me when he hired me.”

“My fucking brother is going to eat my fist.”

She laughs harder, tipping forward, nearly dropping her axe. “He was so proud of himself.”

I glower, planning how to make his life miserable. The scheme will definitely involve Maggie Edelstein.

“Come.” Sadie nods to the other axe, still laughing. “Let’s start your lessons and never mention your shirt again.”

Like that’s possible. I’m a neon yellow sign that reads MAKE FUN OF ME. Whatever. Sadie can tease me all she wants. Watching her grin that wide is worth it.

I follow her, loving the confident sway of her hips in her short shorts.

When she reaches a spot she likes, she turns and faces me. “Are you ready to focus, Bower?”

I salute her. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Keep your arms and shoulders as relaxed as possible, and don’t throw too hard. A softer touch gives greater accuracy. Most men go for the single-handed toss, thinking it’s the macho move, but two-handed over the head gives more consistency. Slow, steady breaths are your friends, and don’t forget the follow-through. If you end your toss too abruptly, you tend to hit high.”

“Two hands. Slow breaths. Follow through.” I nod. “But I’d like to watch you first.”

She doesn’t need me to ask her twice. Chin ticked up, she takes a strong but comfortable stance, holding the axe with two hands behind her head. She plays with the weight of it—a slight pulse to her arms—then she steadies her breath, firms her legs, and lets it fly.

The blade bites into the wood, dead center of the tree, and I can’t help my bellowed whoop. She pivots toward me, the exhilaration on her face nearly blasting me off my feet. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Sadie this sexy. Powerful and commanding.

Axe throwing is some serious foreplay.

I wrangle my focus. Don’t want to look like a chump in the face of her competence.

“Like this?” I plant my feet, trying to follow her instructions, but the axe feels gangly.

“Relax your arms.”

I try, but my instincts don’t like the instruction.

“If you do this . . .” She comes up behind me, presses her small hands to my triceps, positioning me until my arms soften slightly. Unfortunately, other things harden. I clench my ass, try to keep my body’s reaction contained. The last thing I want is for the axe to go flying and hit one of us.

“Better,” she murmurs close to my neck, not helping the situation in my cargo shorts.

When she steps back, I force more control into my breaths, attempt to maintain the posture she shifted, but I’m still wound up. My grip feels awkward. The second the axe leaves my hands, I know it’s a lost cause. The blade misses the trunk and ricochets off a neighboring tree.

I shrug at her and point at my shirt. “I blame the fit. It cut off blood flow and my ability to focus.”

She rolls her eyes. “Such a man, looking for something else to blame.”

Grinning, I hold up my hands in surrender. “I take it back. I have no problems admitting a woman bested me at axe throwing. Or that watching you wield that weapon masterfully was really fucking hot.”

She gives her ponytail a seductive toss. “I do give good axe.”

So damn good.

We mess around a while longer, standing at different distances and angles. Sadie hits the trunk 95 percent of the time. With her teaching, I improve, but she’s still better than me. We joke and heckle each other. I do a horrible impression of a crazed axe-wielding lumberjack, and she laughs so hard her axe doesn’t land anywhere near the tree.

Eventually, we find ourselves sitting in the clearing, facing each other under the shade of the large oak. She’s cross-legged, picking at the grass. I have one leg bent, my elbow resting on it while I watch the wind flirt with her hair.

She tosses a few blades of grass on my legs, smiling when they get caught in my leg hairs. “You seem really at home out here in the wilderness.”

“It’s surprising, to be honest. I’ve always considered myself more of a city guy. Never searched out trails or hikes in Houston. Just stuck to the concrete jungle. But I like this.” I breathe in the scents of earth and grass and fresh air, taking in the peaceful quiet. “A lot.”