Unbreak the Woodsman Read online

  Unbreak the Woodsman

  Woodsman Book 2

  M. S. Parker

  Belmonte Publishing, LLC

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2018 Belmonte Publishing LLC

  Published by Belmonte Publishing LLC

  Contents

  Free Book

  Reading Order

  Prologue

  1. Breanna

  2. Breanna

  3. Breanna

  4. Breanna

  5. Breanna

  6. Breanna

  7. Breanna

  8. Breanna

  9. Breanna

  10. Breanna

  11. Breanna

  12. Breanna

  13. Breanna

  14. Breanna

  15. Breanna

  16. Breanna

  17. Breanna

  18. Breanna

  19. Breanna

  20. Breanna

  21. Breanna

  22. Breanna

  23. Breanna

  24. Breanna

  25. Breanna

  26. Breanna

  27. Breanna

  28. Breanna

  29. Breanna

  30. Breanna

  31. Breanna

  32. Breanna

  33. Breanna

  34. Breanna

  35. Breanna

  Preview: Claimed by Him

  Also by M. S. Parker

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Free Book

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  Reading Order

  Thank you so much for reading Unbreak the Woodsman, the second book in the Woodsman series. All books in the series can be read stand-alone, but if you’d like to read the complete series, I recommend reading them in this order:

  1. Rescued by the Woodsman

  2. Unbreak the Woodsman (This Book)

  3. Trapped with the Woodsman (July 11th)

  Prologue

  Ryder

  I’d never been so nervous in my entire life.

  If anyone had told me six months ago that I’d be getting ready to do something this impulsive, I would have laughed in that person’s face. But there I was, walking down a busy street in Barcelona with an engagement ring stowed inside my jacket pocket.

  The weather in Spain was beautiful, a hell of a lot better than it would be back in Colorado, where I’d lived up until a couple of months ago.

  I’d come to Spain on vacation with the plans to stay just two weeks.

  Then I met Nathalie.

  Just thinking about her made my heart speed up and tended to cause a goofy smile to light my face. That goofy smile didn’t concern me in the least.

  I was shit-faced in love with her, and I didn’t care who knew it, either.

  Nathalie certainly seemed to know – and appreciate it.

  We couldn’t be more opposite, but it didn’t matter. We were going to make this work.

  Nathalie sometimes didn’t seem as convinced as I was, but I knew that was because of issues with her family. She’d warned me early on that there would be a problem. She was Muslim, from a very conservative family. She’d laughed when she told me about the outrage her father had expressed when she told him she was going on a trip with her friend, DeLaria. That was when she met me.

  But the laughter faded, and she’d confessed that her parents would never accept her being with a white, non-Muslim American.

  “I don’t care,” she’d told me after telling me about her family. “I love them, but I can’t let them control my life. I won’t let them.”

  She’d all but given up her family for me, and I planned on making sure she never regretted it.

  For the past few months, we’d been living in a home I rented in Putxet, a pretty area located on the mountain the neighborhood had taken its name from.

  Nathalie was there now. Waiting for me. My heart beat harder the closer I got.

  I don’t think she had any idea that I planned to propose, which was good.

  I wanted to surprise her.

  I wanted to give her the world.

  All she had to do was say yes.

  The house I rented stood tall and elegant just ahead, and I lengthened my strides, ready to get to Nathalie and start our evening.

  I pulled open the gate, taking little notice of the park-like beauty of the small front yard. Sometimes, Nathalie and I would sit out there and share a drink in the evening as we talked.

  I didn’t plan on us being outside tonight though and hurried up the walk to the house. It had what might be called a minimalist style, decorated mostly in white, with the occasional black or gray thrown in.

  The house was silent as I let myself inside, and I called out Nathalie’s name.

  She didn’t answer.

  I looked at my watch and figured she must have gone out for a run or to the store. It suited my plans that she wasn’t there. I could get dinner going and maybe have everything ready when she got back.

  I planned on making paella, a dish Nathalie had taught me how to make – and the dish we shared the day we moved into this home, tucked up on the mountain overlooking Barcelona.

  I lost track of time as I cooked the chicken and readied the other ingredients, my mind focused on the night ahead.

  Once the dish was in the oven, I poured myself a glass of scotch and headed upstairs. I hadn’t heard Nathalie come in, so I doubted she was there. A glance in our bedroom told me it was empty.

  I moved onto the terrace that looked out over the neighborhood and sat down, taking a sip from my glass before checking the time. If she was out on a run, she’d be back any minute. She was usually out no more than an hour or so when she went to go workout.

  But if she’d gone shopping, she could have lost track of the time.

  Pulling my phone from my pocket, I sent her a quick text. A sound caught my ear as I went to put my phone away.

  It was the chime of Nathalie’s phone, and it had come from inside the house.

  Frowning, I followed the direction the sound had come from and ended up in our bedroom.

  “Nathalie?” I called out.

  There was no answer. I moved over to the bathroom door and pushed it open, half-expecting to find her in the tub with her earbuds plugged in as she soaked. She loved the tub in this place. I was fond of it myself as Nathalie liked to coax me into joining her as she sat in the huge, jetted bath.

  But she wasn’t there.

  I turned and looked out across the room and spotted her phone on the dresser. Anxiety walked like a spider up my spine as I crossed over, spotting a piece of paper lying beneath it.

  Nathalie’s writing caught my eye.

  Dread didn’t really start to set in until I picked up the note and read the first two lines.

  Dear Ryder

  I am so sorry to do this, but I have to leave…

  My heart lurched up into my throat, and I lowered the note, pinching the bridge of my nose. There was a mistake. That’s all. I needed to finish reading the note because I couldn’t have read what I thought I read.

  Sweat broke out on the back of my neck as I once more started to read her neat writing. When I was done, I sank down onto the bed.

  In my pocket, I could feel the hard, little lump of the jeweler’s box and I slowly pulled it out. Light reflected off the baguette diamond engagement ring as I tugg
ed it from its setting. Holding the small thing in the palm of my hand, I looked from the note back to the ring as I tried to make sense out of what had happened.

  Dear Ryder

  I am so sorry to do this…

  I didn’t read another word as I crumpled the note up and threw it against the wall.

  A second later, the ring followed.

  1

  Breanna

  Snow was falling outside the window as the three of us sat down to dinner.

  My best friend, Stella, had invited me over earlier that week and I’d been looking forward to it. It had been a stressful few days at work, and I’d just finished up a project for one of my main accounts. The ad agency where I worked with Stella had become one of the top agencies in Colorado since it had been bought out by Stella’s fiancé, Lukas Grayson.

  The ad agency, Cutting Edge, was a fantastic place to work, and I enjoyed my job, although I’d like for my next couple of weeks to be a little less hectic.

  Christmas was just a few weeks away, and I’d like to enjoy what remained of the year without putting in twelve-hour workdays.

  As I settled in my chair, Lukas offered me a glass of wine, and I happily accepted. With the way the weather was acting outside, Stella had offered to let me stay the night, and I just might take her up on the offer, especially if it meant more of this wine.

  “Are you going to see your family over Christmas?” I asked Stella. Her family lived back in New York City. Stella had moved here after graduating college and didn’t seem to mind the distance from her family, although I knew she loved them.

  “We fly out the day after,” Stella told me. “We’ll visit my family and Lukas’s father.”

  We chatted about family and the coming holiday over dinner, and once we were done, I helped carry the dishes into the kitchen, ignoring Stella and Lukas’s protests. I knew they had a woman who came in and cleaned the house, took care of dishes and laundry several days a week. But I’d grown up in a different sort of environment, and if I helped dirty the dishes, I figured I could help clean them.

  It was weird, but sweet, seeing my previously rigid boss relax and smile over something as simple as domestic chores. He passed over some dirty dishes to Stella, leaning in to steal a kiss as he did so.

  “I need a woodsman,” I announced.

  Stella laughed as she looked my way.

  “I’m serious.” Huffing out a breath, I topped off my wine, although it was entirely possible I should have stopped a glass or two ago. I wasn’t drunk, but I felt pleasantly buzzed and my filter, which I normally kept engaged, was running faulty now.

  “Lukas is one of a kind,” Stella told me, giving the man beside her a look of such adoration that my blood sugar nearly skyrocketed from the sweetness going on in front of me.

  “Figures.” I grinned at her over the glass before shooting Lukas a look. “Although if you have any hot and sexy friends of the woodsman type, and you want to introduce me, I wouldn’t mind.”

  Lukas laughed.

  As the three of us moved into the sprawling living room with its floor to ceiling windows, Lukas said, “I know a couple of older guys, but I don’t think you’d want to mess with them. I’m not even sure if they’re completely housebroken.”

  I made a face at him. “No, thanks. I want a man, not a pet.”

  I all but collapsed into a big, overstuffed recliner that faced out over the backyard. “I think, if it’s all the same to you guys, that I’ll take you up on your offer to spend the night. I think I had one – or two – too many glasses of wine.”

  “You’re always welcome.” Stella curled up against Lukas, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

  I was happy for my friend – happy for Lukas. For a while, it hadn’t looked like things would work out between them, but they’d been together now for close to a year, and they were stupid happy with each other.

  Envy twined through me, and I pushed it aside, deliberately averting my glance as Lukas stroked his fingers across the back of Stella’s neck. I wanted that. Not Lukas or anything, but somebody I could lean against, somebody to fall asleep with on a cold winter night.

  My gaze landed on a picture on the mantel, a new one that I hadn’t noticed before. Getting up, I moved over to study it more closely. It was Lukas and another guy – they’d gone fishing.

  I wasn’t a fan of the sport myself, but the guy next to Lukas was holding up a nice catch as the two of them grinned at the camera. “Who is he?” I asked, gesturing to the picture when Lukas turned around.

  He glanced at the picture, then back at me. “A friend of mine. His name is Ryder.”

  “He’s…hot.”

  Actually, hot didn’t cover it. He was mouth-watering. Judging by the picture, he looked to be a little taller than Lukas, and the sun glinted off coppery, golden-brown hair. His skin was tanned, speaking of a life lived outdoors. The faded t-shirt he wore outlined broad shoulders and muscled arms.

  Casting another look at Lukas, I asked, “So, is he a mountain man?”

  “Ah…” Lukas raked a hand through his hair, looking uncomfortable for a reason I didn’t understand.

  That was rare for him. I didn’t know if I’d ever seen him look uncomfortable, but as he looked from the picture to me, I could tell he wasn’t overly thrilled to be talking about this.

  I almost told him to forget about it, that I’d been teasing.

  But Lukas spoke before I had the chance.

  “You don’t want to get tangled up with the likes of Ryder,” he said softly. He looked down at the glass in it, as if the liquid would deliver divine guidance.

  “It looks like you two are friends,” I noted, probing gently as my curiosity grew.

  “Oh, we are. It’s just…” He sighed and skimmed a hand back over his hair before looking back at me. “He’s a good guy, one of my best friends. But he had some shit happen to him a few years back and he’s…well, he’s not the same as he used to be. I wouldn’t recommend any female friends of mine get caught up with him, that’s all.”

  I frowned and shook my head. “What is he, like a modern-day Bluebeard? A bunch of dead wives tucked away in a closet?”

  “No.” Lukas laughed shortly and tossed back the rest of his wine. “He’s more like Casanova, and he goes through women like they are little more than toys to him.”

  “But he’s a good guy,” I said, echoing his earlier comment.

  Lukas’s jaw set. “He’s a friend. Doesn’t mean he can’t be an asshole. He’s got his reasons, but it still doesn’t change the fact that he can be an asshole.”

  I found myself looking back at the picture again, wondering.

  Stella and I sat curled up on the padded window seat of the guest room I was using for the night.

  She’d filched another bottle of wine, and the buzz that had started to lighten earlier was back in full force.

  I giggled as she emptied out the bottle with a lavish sigh before thunking it down next to her. “We need to have more nights like this,” she announced.

  “Like what…drink too much, stay up too late, and wake up hungover?” I asked with a snort.

  She pointed a finger at me, pistol style. “Exactly.”

  I sipped my wine as she leaned back against the wall behind her and stared outside. “It’s so pretty here.”

  I looked outside as well and had to agree. The snow had stopped coming down, and the moon was trying to break out from behind scattered clouds. The silvery light from it shone off the snow, making the night seem oddly bright.

  “I guess it’s better than living in my little place in the city,” I said after a few seconds.

  Stella slanted a look at me. “Hey, I love your little place in the city.” Then she sighed again, her eyes half-closing. “But this is home.”

  “Do you ever miss New York?” I asked. I’d never been out east myself, but I wondered what it was like, living in the city that never sleeps.

  “Sometimes.” She cracked open one
eye, a smile edging up the corners of her mouth. “Especially when I have an urge to go shopping. There’s nothing like shopping in New York City.”

  I made a face. I didn’t mind shopping, but I preferred it to come with a little less chaos than what was probably involved in a New York City shopping spree.

  “I’ll stick to shopping in Denver,” I told her, shaking my head.

  “Probably for the best.” She gave me a haughty look as she continued, “I don’t think you have the stamina for shopping in the city.”

  “Are you implying I couldn’t keep up with you?”

  “Yep.”

  I snorted into my wine. “You’re probably right…and my pocketbook is grateful.” I pointed at her. “I’ve seen you shop. You don’t take any prisoners.”

  “All’s fair in love and shopping.” She yawned, covering her mouth to smother the sound.

  “Speaking of shopping, do I need to bring anything to the cabin?”

  We were meeting up for a girl’s weekend at the cabin that Lukas owned, tucked up in the Rocky Mountains. We’d been planning this girl’s escape for a couple of months, and I was looking forward to it.

  “No.” Stella shook her head. “I know you said you had a two o’clock meeting that Friday, so Tabitha and I will handle buying the food and stuff. You just bring you.”