The blaring bull horn alarm I set repeatedly assaults my ears and stirs me from a deep slumber. Grabbing my phone from the nightstand, I swipe my finger to the right and end the ear splitting noise. Squinting my unfocused eyes, I key in my passcode and open up the Timber app. My eyes blink repeatedly as I try to see who sent me a message since the last time I logged on. I scroll through the numerous names until I stop on the one I’m looking for - the one I didn’t dare hope for. Lady Luc. There it is, plain as day. After almost two weeks of not hearing from her I figured I never would and I didn’t dare allow myself to hope because I imagined it would only be a waste of time.

Oh shit. She answered.

What now?

I drop my phone onto my bed like it’s a ball of fire melting the skin from my bones. I can’t believe she replied. Closing my eyes, I scrub my hand up and down my face and will myself to calm down. She’s just some woman I don’t even know. What will it matter if she doesn’t like my reply? We’ll never meet in person anyway. Stroking the hair on my chin, I think about what some of the pros of answering Lady Luc’s message might be.

Maybe I can use this experience to sharpen my small talk skills. I’m more than a little rusty and with typing I won’t have to worry about nerves bringing my stutter out. Nodding my head, I turn onto my side and smile. Reaching for my phone, I key in the pin while mentally composing a reply at the same time.

Magnus Andersen: You’re welcome.

Fuck. I grimace as I reread my message. How lame can I be? Immediately my thumbs tap on the screen and I send another one.

Magnus Andersen: Just thought you should know.

Double fuck. This one might be more lame than the last. Groaning with frustration, I roll to my back and stare up at the smooth white ceiling. Picturing Lady Luc’s naturally beautiful face helps the anxious rolling in my stomach to calm. She doesn’t look like someone who would shut me down for a few fumbling texts and if she is I might as well find out now. Energized with a renewed sense of purpose, I type out another message.

Magnus Andersen: What’s your sign baby?

As soon as the cheesy words appear on the screen I break out into laughter and my eyes squeeze shut. I have no intention of sending this to her. I’m just amusing myself while I work on figuring out what I want to say. Snapping my eyes open, I know it’s time to get down to business. Raising the phone in front of me, I get ready to delete the jesting message, but it’s not there. Where the fuck is it? No. No. No. I’m afraid to look because I already know exactly where it disappeared to. Scrolling down the chat, I see that the message didn’t get deleted like I wanted, instead it got posted to our chat. Fuck me.

Not likely with the way I’m going.

My fingers rake through my hair as I growl out my frustration.

Maybe it’s not so bad.

Maybe she didn’t see it yet.

Glancing at the screen, I grimace when I notice she has indeed seen my message. My thumb flies over the screen as I type out some sort of damage control before it’s too late.

Magnus Andersen: That was a joke meant for me, not you. I didn’t mean to send it.

Waiting for her to reply seems like hours instead of the minute it actually takes.

LadyLuc: Do you joke with yourself often?

Magnus Andersen: I do. Is that weird? Someone’s got to appreciate my sense of humor. Who better than me?

LadyLuc: What’s wrong with your sense of humor?

Magnus Andersen: Nothing according to me, lol. But I guess some might say I have a dry sense of humor.

LadyLuc:What does that mean exactly? Is that just another way to say it’s odd?

Magnus Andersen: You might be onto something. Maybe no one wanted to hurt my feelings and tell me I’m just weird.

LadyLuc: What other things do you do with yourself?

Magnus Andersen: That’s a personal question for so soon in our Timbering. For those answers you’re going to have to put in more time and at least let me buy you dinner first.

LadyLuc: Hmm. dinner huh? I’m not sure dinner is what I have in mind. But we can continue our “Timbering” and see what happens.

Smiling at my phone screen like a loon, I type out my reply.

Magnus Andersen: Sounds like a plan. Have a great day.

I flip the covers back on the bed and slide to my feet. It’s time to begin my day and put an end to all this lazing around. After all, time waits for no man.

A steaming hot shower is usually just what I need to get the blood flowing and wake me up, but this morning it’s not enough to do the trick. Ambling into my large kitchen I find Cam seated at the large island, a newspaper spread out before him and a cup of coffee in hand.

“Good morning Mags,” he says cheerily.

“Hmm,” I grunt in reply as I grab a coffee mug from the cabinet.

“Feeling a little rough this morning are we? Did you and that sexy friend of yours drink a little too much last night?”

“No. Chase and I worked out and then he left. No drinking at all.” I practically moan from the sound the dark stream of coffee makes trickling from the Keurig into my cup. I can already taste the richness and my taste buds are salivating in response.

“Now that I’d like to see. Chase all sweaty - how hot.” He fans his face with his now folded newspaper.

Glancing side eye at him, I grimace. “Cam, I thought we had an agreement. I don’t want to hear how you think my friends are hot, swoon worthy, drool worthy or any of the other adjectives you like to drop in front of me.”

Cam, chuckles. “I know, but it’s so fun to see the expression of distaste on your face.”

“I’ve seen Chase naked. Trust me it’s not that impressive.” I smile into my coffee mug knowing full well that Cam will bring this up to Chase at some point. While I’ve never seen Chase naked nor do I want to, I’ll take any opportunity to fuck with him for sure.

“You had to ruin it for me.” He shakes his head. I bite my bottom lip to hold in the laugh that wants out in the worst way. I can already picture the expression of outrage on Chase’s face when he finds out. I can’t wait to see it live.

“What’s going on in my schedule today? I have to finish up clearing that house lot on Bedford Street. Do I have anything tonight?”

“No, but I wanted to touch base with you about a few things which is why I’m here at seven o’clock.”

“I do have a phone, you know?”

“I know, but then I’d have to do without the privilege of seeing all this,” Cam says, gesturing up and down my frame.

“Cam,” I warn. But he knows he’s too valuable for me to fire. I can deal with his innuendo and outrageous comments if it means having someone as dependable as he is to keep me organized.

“I know. I know. I can look, but I shouldn’t mention it.” He waves a hand in the air. “Anyway, back to business now. Your Twitter is up to two point five million followers now and your Instagram is at six point eight million; this is a substantial growth in the past month and I’m sure it has to do with you being named the face of Timber.”

“Mm,” I murmur and take another sip of the steaming hot coffee. My eyes close as I swallow down the dark brew. It’s so strong, I can practically feel it putting hair on my chest.

“I know you don’t really grasp the importance of what I’m saying, but Mags it’s great news. More people are learning who you are on a daily basis and your popularity is growing. This will all lead to more offers and more money.”

“I don’t need more money.” I shrug. “I have my house, my truck, my bike and food to eat. What more do I need?”

“Oh I don’t know. A vacation house in Maui, maybe?” Cam replies.

“No, you want a vacation home in Maui. I don’t.” I arch a brow at him.

“You’re right; I do. Can you make that happen for me?”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“The next time you want to turn down a job, think about my vacation home instead of being selfish.”

“I’ll keep that in mind from now on.”