Chapter 23 #2
It hit the side of the log, slicing off only a tiny chunk.
Shit.
I rolled my shoulders and focused on keeping my breaths steady rather than getting frustrated. I needed to do better.
I replayed Jude’s instructions in my head and hefted the maul, getting comfortable with the weight of it.
The next time I swung, I focused more on the log and less on looking manly, and the blade came down, slicing it in two perfectly equal halves.
Yes.
I resisted the urge to pump my fist. Now that it was in half, I needed to get it into quarters.
Focus, Cole. Do not look at Willa.
As much as I wanted her eyes on me, I had to be cool.
I took a deep breath and swung again. The blade fell perfectly, slicing the wood.
As I was grinning down at it, a crashing noise from inside startled me.
Whipping around, I squinted, trying to make out what was happening on the other side of the glass. All I found was the back of Willa’s head.
Huh.
Maybe she had seen me.
Regardless, I’d hauled all these logs back here, so I might as well chop them. So I set up another.
Thwack. Okay, that felt better. Maybe I’d eventually get the hang of this.
Movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. Without turning, I registered the sight. It was Willa. Standing by the window, watching.
Okay, okay. Don’t screw this up, Cole.
Swing.
Center hit.
Excellent.
I could feel her eyes on me. And while I had thought I’d feel self-conscious, the attention made me feel like fucking Superman.
Again.
Swing.
Yes.
I was invincible.
Jude wasn’t lying; this is an incredible workout. I was already sweating, and my heart was racing. My lats ached, and my abs contracted with each swing.
Just as I’d quartered another log, the sound of a cough drew my attention. I looked up and found Willa standing by the back corner of the house, eyes wide.
She’d pulled a coat over her sweats but still wore her fluffy house slippers, which were probably soaked through already.
Jumping back when she caught me looking at her, she pulled her coat closed around her chest. “What are you doing?”
“Chopping wood.” I lined up another log, biting my cheeks to keep from smiling.
“Why?”
“We need firewood.” I grunted. This setup was beyond ridiculous, but what could I say? I was willing to make an absolute fool of myself to impress this woman.
I lifted my head and found her gawking. Fuck, if that didn’t make me feel ten feet tall. Pulling myself up to my full height, I rested the maul on my shoulder like Paul Motherfucking Bunyan and smiled. “Whatcha doin’ out here? It’s freezing.”
She froze, like a deer in headlights. “I-I needed to check these rose bushes,” she said, gesturing to the row of frozen, leafless bushes that lined the side of the cottage.
“Huh. In January?”
Her face flamed. God, I love how easily she flushed. “They’re in dormancy, but they still require care.” She attempted to sound authoritative, like she did when using medical jargon, but the trembling hands gave her away.
I nodded, rolling my lips to keep from laughing. She had no garden equipment and was wearing slippers, but sure sweetie, the roses needed your attention.
“It’s freezing,” she snapped, putting a hand on her hip. “Put a coat on.”
This time I didn’t bother tempering the grin that slowly spread across my face. “Can’t. Too sweaty. This is hard work.” I patted the handle of the maul. “I may have to take off my shirt.”
I propped the maul against the log pile and gathered the hem of my long-sleeved tee, ready to pull it up and give her a show.
Before I could do more than that, she gasped and took a step forward. As she did, she rolled her ankle and tripped straight into the snow.
Abandoning my plan, I darted over to her.
“Fuck,” she hissed.
I knelt in front of her. “You okay?”
“Yes,” she said, avoiding my gaze. “I’m fine.”
Gently, I brushed the snow off her legs, maybe a bit more than necessary.
“You should get inside.” I eased her to her feet and held on to her arms until she was steady. “Want me to come in and help you warm up?” I raised one eyebrow and pointed to the pile of freshly chopped wood.
She shook her head, focusing on the ground between us. “I have a lot of reading to do,” she mumbled, walking back to the house.
The minute she turned her back, I couldn’t repress the ear-splitting grin.
I picked up my maul, determined to finish the rest, certain she’d be watching from inside.
Line up.
Swing.
Chop.
Every few minutes, I caught a glimpse of her in my periphery. Hell yeah, she was watching. So I went for it. I peeled my shirt off and got back to work.
I hadn’t made it through the entire pile before my shoulder was screaming. I was fairly certain I’d need reconstructive surgery, but it was so worth it. The way her eyes widened and breathing picked up? Yup, my wife was hot for me.
It felt like the best kind of victory. Until I realized I might have to keep this up and embrace the full lumberjack lifestyle. Shit. Maybe Gus could give me lessons before the baby came?
When Jude found out his trick had worked, he’d be such a know-it-all about it, but I had every intention of baking him dozens of peanut butter cookies in thanks.
That look on her face alone was worth the ache in my shoulder and the taunting I was bound to be subjected to.
Operation Lumberjack had been a success. Now I just had to stay the course and not fuck it up.