3.Jane

All right, chopping wood. How hard can it be? It"s not like you need a degree in wood-pecking or anything. Just swing the axe, chop the wood, and try not to lose any toes in the process.

I grab the axe with both hands, trying channeling my inner lumberjack. I know the stranger is still watching me with his rugged charm and amused expression. I pretend not to notice, but it"s hard to ignore the way my heart races whenever I catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye.

With a deep breath, I raise the axe and bring it down with all my might. The log splits in two, and I feel a small sense of triumph. Maybe this isn"t so bad after all. I glance over to see if he"s still watching, and yep, there he is, sipping his coffee and looking like he doesn"t have a care in the world. My face heats up.

I grab another log and set it on the chopping block. This time, I'm not so lucky. The axe slips, and I nearly chop my own foot off. "Son of a—!" I curse loudly, hopping around on one foot, trying to shake off the shock. Please, please let him not have seen that.

I sneak a peek in his direction, hoping against hope that he missed my near-death experience. No such luck. He"s definitely seen it, and if that grin on his face is anything to go by, he's thoroughly entertained.

My face burns with embarrassment. What must he think of me? He must think I'm some dumb girl who can't even chop wood without risking life and limb. He's probably seen countless guests come and go, all more capable and outdoorsy than me. They probably arrived with their own axes and lumberjack shirts, ready to conquer the wild. And here I am, struggling like a basket case.

I take a deep breath and steady myself. Focus, Jane. You can do this. I raise the axe again, trying to ignore the fact that my every move is being watched. I bring it down, and the log splits cleanly. Yes! Victory! But my celebration is cut short when I see movement from the corner of my eye.

He's getting into his boat. My heart skips a beat. Is he coming over here? Oh no. Oh no no no. I'm a sweaty, disheveled mess right now. My hair's all over the place, my face is probably as red as a tomato, and I smell like— like I've been chopping wood in the sweltering heat. Disgusting.

Panic sets in. Should I run back into the house? Hide behind the woodpile? Pretend I'm invisible? I glance around, trying to come up with a plan. But it's too late. He's already rowing across the bayou, and I'm standing here, frozen like a deer in headlights.

As he gets closer, I force myself to stay put. Running away would only make me look more ridiculous. Besides, he's just a guy. A very handsome, rugged guy who happens to be rowing over to rescue me from my own incompetence. No biggie.

I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. By the time he reaches the shore, I've managed to plaster a somewhat calm expression on my face. He steps out of the boat, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Need a hand?" he asks, his voice warm and inviting.

***

I take a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. The stranger's standing there, all rugged and charming, offering to help me chop wood. But no way. I need to prove that I can handle myself out here. I flash him a confident smile and shake my head.

"Thanks for the offer, but I've got this," I say, trying to sound more capable than I feel.

He raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Alright, but if you need anything, just holler. I'm right over there." He points across the bayou to his houseboat, then extends his hand. "Danny Darke, by the way."

"Jane. Haynes." I shake his hand, and there's a spark, making my heart do a little flip. We stand there for a moment, just staring at each other, and I feel a tiny thrill run through me. There"s a hint of flirtation in his eyes, and I can't help but blush.

Determined to act as if I'm not hot bothered, I decide to play it cool. "It was nice to meet you, Danny but I've got some fishing to do."

"Fishing, huh?" His eyes still twinkle with open interest. "Need a man to show you the ropes?"

"I think I can manage," I say, a bit more firmly than necessary. I grab my gear, trying to ignore the butterflies in my stomach. "How hard can it be to hook a worm and make a stupid fish catch it?"

"Oh, you'd be surprised." Danny crosses his arms over his broad chest, clearly not affected by my stubbornness. "Mind if I watch?"

I hesitate for a moment, expecting him to leave. But he doesn't. He just stands there, watching me with that infuriatingly charming smile. "Suit yourself," I mutter, trying to focus on the task at hand. "Though, I doubt it'll be anything interesting."

I head down to the water, feeling his eyes on me the whole time. I can do this. How hard can fishing be? I set up the fishing rod, fumbling a bit with the bait. When I finally get everything ready, I cast the line into the water, feeling a small sense of accomplishment.

Danny is still standing there, arms crossed, watching me with a mix of curiosity and concern. I resist the urge to turn around and tell him to leave. Instead, I take a deep breath and concentrate on the water, willing a fish to bite.

Minutes pass, and nothing happens. The bayou is quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant call of a bird. I sneak a glance at Danny, and he's still there, leaning casually against a tree, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Having any luck?" he calls out, his voice laced with suppressed laughter.

"Patience is a virtue," I reply, trying to sound like I know what I'm talking about.

Just then, I feel a tug on the line. My heart leaps. I've got one! I start reeling it in, excitement coursing through me. But my excitement quickly turns to panic as the fish puts up a fight, thrashing wildly. I struggle to keep my balance, nearly toppling into the water.

Danny takes a step forward, clearly ready to jump in if needed. "Still don't need a hand?"

"No, I've got it!" I insist, though my grip is slipping. With one final effort, I manage to pull the fish out of the water, a triumphant smile spreading across my face. It's not the biggest fish, but it's a fish nonetheless. Only that then…the whole hook comes off. I didn't secure it properly and it plunges back into the water…together with my catch.

Danny claps, acting as if he's impressed. "Nice job, Jane. Looks like you're a natural."

I wince, struggling to not let my embarrassment escalate. "I totally did that on purpose," I say, trying to sound nonchalant.

Danny chuckles, a soft smile on his face. "You know," he says after a moment, "there's a great spot just around the bend where the fish practically jump into the boat. I could show you, if you'd like."

I glance at him, considering the offer. Part of me wants to keep proving I can do this on my own, but another part of me—one that's growing louder by the minute—realizes that maybe having a little help isn't such a bad thing. And besides, spending more time with Danny doesn't sound too terrible.

"Alright, tough-guy," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. "Lead the way."

"That's a good girl," he grins. "Putting her fate in the hands of a stranger."

I shiver a little, but I'm not worried. Danny's hands seem pretty sturdy to me and…big. My face heats and I shrug myself. Do not think about his big hands. Or anything else that might be big for that matter.