Page 1 of Pearl

CHAPTER 1

PEARL

One month ago

Whop.

The sound of someone chopping wood permeates the otherwise quiet air as I head around the back of my best friend Phoebe’s place.

Whop.

Whop.

I stop in my tracks when I see a man. He’s facing away from me, swinging an ax. He’s shirtless, and his broad back is rippled with muscles. His jeans hug his ass in the most perfect way, and his biceps bulge with every rotation. I tilt my head as I devour his body with my eyes.

Ding fucking dong.

I don’t mind me a hot lumberjack; in fact, I’ve been known to have a secret fantasy about it and enjoy watching a wood-chopping thirst trap or two. In a small town, when you’re single and raising a kid alone, there’s not a hell of a lot else to do.

I’m almost drooling at his fine form, the sweat beading on him rolls down his tanned skin. His salt-and-pepper hair is damp and curled at the ends.

Then he stills.

Holy guacamole.

Gray eyes meet mine as I realize I just got caught gawking. Oh, holy shit!

Am I sorry? Not really, this guy is damn hot. That is, if you like the silver-fox Daddy type, and I do. Very much so.

On closer inspection, Mr. Lumberjack has a handsome face. There’s something rugged about him—that could be him slinging that ax like chopping wood is easy—and his beard matches his hair color. But it’s the eyes that get me.

Let’s not even talk about his body. Spank my ass and call me a motherfucker. He has a figure better than most men half his age.

The corner of his lips lifts when he realizes where my eyes just roamed: everywhere.

And you’re openly staring, dipshit.

Clearing my throat, as I try to imagine the X-rated vision of him working those hips —with me pinned beneath him—I offer a meek wave as I step closer.

“Uh, hey.” Okay, that’s the lamest thing that’s ever come out of my mouth. “I was, uh, just looking for Phoebe.” And you’re clearly not my best friend.

Phoebe and I have been besties for about five years. Her daughter, Kayla, and my daughter, Mahini, are the same age—twelve— and play softball together.

Mr. Lumberjack gives me a chin lift as he hangs the ax over his bare shoulders.

Keep your eyes up!

“Where are my manners?” His voice is rough and gravelly. After wiping one hand down the front of his jeans, he holds it out to me. “I’m Decker.”

Decker?

Where do I know that name from?

Oh, wait a minute…

“Decker Sterling,” he goes on when my mouth opens and closes. “Phoebe’s dad.”

Phoebe’s dad?