Chopped

by Charles, Colleen

  The man’s face remains unreadable, like some hulking mountain man statue, instead of flesh and blood. He doesn’t possess a lot of social skills, but then, why would he, living out in this primitive cabin in the middle of nowhere? Then again, I don’t really have a lot of social graces, either. I’ve always been nerdy and bookish, more interested in plants than people.

  I clear my throat. “Thanks for the tea. It’s really good.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “By the way, if you don’t have electricity, how do you power the lamps?”

  He taps the base of the one next to him. “Batteries.”

  Gray crosses his arms across his chest, the green and black plaid of his flannel shirt stretching across those muscles upon muscles. It’s a little hot for flannel but maybe these woodsy types wear it year-round. Or perhaps he’s as worried about ticks and mosquitos as I am and doesn’t want his skin exposed.

  His skin.

  As I imagine what’s underneath his shirt, a new kind of warmth radiates outward, filling my limbs and core with heat. I glance away, unable to tolerate this new feeling. Or these new thoughts. I’ve only had one intimate relationship back in undergrad, and I found I didn’t like it. Romance isn’t for me. All it involves is a guy getting his rocks off as quickly as possible. I’d rather read a textbook than have sex. At least I learn something doing that.

  Licking my lips, I glance at the pouring rain. With the feelings this guy evokes in me turning my insides out, the sooner I leave here, the better.

  But not without my aspen sample.

  Even if I have to beat him over the head with his own ax to get it.

  “How long have you been in college?” he asks, breaking the stilted silence.

  “Nine years.”

  He snorts a sip of his own tea and sputters it out. “Nine years?”

  I nod. “Four years of undergrad, two years to get my masters, and another three to get my doctorate. And it’s not even official yet. I still have to turn in my final project and pass the interview. It’s really, really hard. Like having two full-time jobs.”

  “I bet.” He looks away and for the first time, his face registers some expression I can actually read. Nostalgia. “I only graduated high school. Got a full-ride football scholarship but had to decline when I tore my ACL in the playoffs. Then I moved out here to the family land to be alone with nature.”

  My stomach topples over itself, reminding me of where I am right now. “Do you like being alone?”

  I stare at him, wondering how he can be all the way out in this forest alone for years at a time without going stir crazy. Or just plain crazy. But maybe he hoofs it into town when the weather permits. I really have no idea about this man or his proclivities. For all I know, he could be a complete recluse and like it. For all I know, there could be bodies buried all over this forest.

  One eyebrow climbs. “Most of the time. My sister comes about once a month. She’s all the company I need.”

  All the company I need.

  “Oh.” His offhand comment echoes through my brain, telling me everything I need to know in a few short words. Gray doesn’t need a woman; he doesn’t need anyone.

  Except Hank.

  As if the dog has a weird sixth sense, he raises his head from his blanket by the fireplace and wags his tail.

  Gray stifles a chuckle. “Sorry, buddy. I forgot you.”

  Hank sighs and lays his head back down, then rolls over on his side to expose his tender underbelly to the flickering fire.

  I put my cup down on a coaster and try to stand. A pain in my back stops me, and I flop back down on the buttery leather like a fish. “Oops.”

  He sighs. “You should just stay there. I’ll get you a hot water bottle for your sore muscles. Another cup of tea?”

  I shake my head. “I can’t keep putting you out like this. I know you’re not used to having guests.”

  He stands and I can’t help but stare at his towering height. He practically hits the ceiling of exposed logs. “It’s no bother. Just because I’m not used to guests doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy them when they do decide to stay. The roads will be bogged down with mud from the storm. And the trail might be washed away by tomorrow morning. You’ll need to stay here until it’s safe to go back into town. Might as well hunker down and make the best of things.”

  My hand flutters against my chest. The thought of sleeping only a few feet away from Gray does crazy things to my insides. “Okay.”

  I admire his tight ass as he grabs my tea mug and walks away from me and back into the kitchen. When he emerges, he’s holding a fresh brew and an old-fashioned hot water bottle. I didn’t realize those things still existed when anyone I know just puts on a heating pad or some Icy Hot. What I wouldn’t give for some of that stuff right now as every muscle in my body protests my ludicrous idea to come into these woods and get my samples.

  “Julie insisted on running water and a portable gas-powered generator or she wouldn’t stay here. So you can take a hot shower later if you want.”

  I swallow, my throat a tight ball of emotion. The thought of getting naked with him in the other room causes another wave of heat to rumble through me. “Are you sure the roads will be too muddy to go back?”

  He nods, resolute.

  I consider my options and come up empty. “Do you have a phone? I should call the motel and tell them what’s happened. All my stuff is there, and I don’t want them to think I abandoned it. My entire life is inside my laptop and I was supposed to check out tomorrow by noon.”

  “Afraid not.”

  I hiss in a panicked breath. “What if there is an emergency?”

  “I’ve got a battery-operated HAM radio, just in case. But I doubt it would be appreciated if you used it to call in a favor only to notify a motel.”

  Of course, he wouldn’t have any reasonable form of communication living out here. I guess I had my hopes up that I could put my mind at ease about my laptop. Even though I use Carbonite to back up, I still don’t want it out of my hands. I should have shoved it inside my backpack, but I truly thought I would be in and out of the forest without incident and I didn’t want it weighing me down.

  As I tug my lip between my bottom teeth in despair, Gray stares at me. “I could call my sister on the HAM. Maybe she could call the motel for you?”

  Of course, I have a cell phone in my backpack and a charging station, just in case, but I haven’t seen bars since I left the gravel utility road and went on the foot trail.

  “Could you? If it wasn’t really important, I wouldn’t ask. But my entire thesis paper and all my research is on that machine. Years’ worth of blood, sweat, and tears.”

  He crosses his massive arms over his equally massive chest and nods. “I’m not going to pretend that I know what you’re talking about, but I can try to get in touch with Julie. She’s a nurse, so she probably won’t be home right now. Why don’t we try her later, like after supper?”

  I nod and, with a shiver, wrap the blanket tighter around me.

  Gray uncrosses his arms and scrubs a hand down his face. “You can take a shower and warm up while I get supper started.”

  I glance down the hallway at the bathroom. I’m not sure how I feel about getting naked inside a stranger’s house, even behind a locked door. But I also can’t lie and say that standing underneath a warm spray of water wouldn’t feel like heaven on earth. And it would also loosen my tight muscles that are causing me such discomfort. My hand flits up to my hair of its own accord, touching the twigs and branches that are stuck there. I think I have a comb in my backpack, along with an old pair of spare glasses. Maybe I can pick through the long, thick disaster before too much damage is done. I’m not a fashion plate or a woman who cares much about my looks, but I do indulge in my thick mane of hair. I just like the way long hair feels.

  “I guess I could.” I set my mug down on the coaster and rise, the blanket trailing after me. If Gray was going to kill me and bury me out back with the
others, he would have done it already. Taking a shower and rinsing away some of the filth and pain of the day could only improve things.

  Right?

  Chapter Seven

  Gray

  My eyes follow Dove as she walks toward the bathroom, all my cells firing with lust. Just the sight of her… the smell, reaches inside me and yanks, sending all the blood straight south.

  The way her hair escapes the confines of her bun, creating wisps around her heart-shaped face. The way her still-damp clothes cling to every curve. The way her pupils dilate with fear and then something else. Something that looks a lot like desire.

  I shake my head, chasing away the clouds of a fantasy I have absolutely no right to indulge in. As if she’d ever desire someone like me. Dammit. You can’t even see my facial features through my thick beard. My muscles may be sculpted through years of outdoor work, but I look like a redneck mountain man.

  The kind of man an intellectual finds repulsive.

  Uneducated.

  Unsophisticated.

  Uncivilized.

  I do my best to keep myself under some semblance of control but thinking about sleeping in the same tiny cabin with Dove a heartbeat away does something to me. Feelings creep in, overwhelming me. I’ve never felt them before and no matter how hard I try, I can’t shove them back down into the darkness.

  In the last few years, I’ve done an adequate job of keeping the wolves of sexual desire at bay, and most of the time, it just isn’t worth it to go into town and walk into a bar. I attract attention, not a lot of it good, and barflies don’t really do it for me at my age. At thirty-one, I know I’ll probably never get married or have little Grays. But I have to learn to live with my life choices.

  And despite my desire to be a father, my desire to live my life simply and on my terms wins out.

  I brace myself against the butcherblock countertop that I sanded by hand and stare out the window. The rain pours down in sheets, soaking the trees and the ground. Leaves blow through the air, flitting around in circles. Kind of like my emotions. They whirl and whirl but never land. A sound lifts my chin.

  A few bangs and bumps.

  The sound of the water turning on.

  The sink calls to me because I want to turn the cold water on and dunk my head in it. Shaking my arms out at the elbows, I suck in a ragged breath, imagining the water caressing every curve of her body. In my mind’s eye, I can see those curves. My muscles contract and twitch with each mental image that infiltrates my brain. Damn, I’ve got to get over this shit or this is going to be the longest night of my life.

  When the rain lifts, she can go back to Shadow Falls. To civilization. To her kind.

  And I can go back to being a lonely, sexually frustrated pain in the ass.

  Rifling through the cupboards and cold storage, I gather the items I’ll need to throw together a venison stew. Since it’s around four, it will be done in time for a late supper. After browning the meat, I hear the shower turn off. As I chop some potatoes, onions, carrots, and celery, I can’t help but envision her standing there with droplets of water running down her skin. In my fantasy, she clutches the towel and caresses the moisture from her dewy skin. The towel glides across her arms and legs, her flat stomach, the planes of her back and then…

  The door swings open with a creak, and I’m jolted back to the present.

  “Hi.”

  Is that a breathy quality to her voice? Must just be the steam.

  “Are you hungry?” My own voice contains a trace of grit that I can’t eradicate no matter how many times I clear my throat.

  “Maybe.”

  Peeking a glance at her, I notice her wet hair framing her face. I don’t have a hairdryer, but I can set her in front of the hearth again.

  “We’re having stew in a couple of hours.” I make a sweeping gesture with my hand. “I just put it on the stove. You’re not a vegetarian, are you?”

  She tugs on her lower lip with her teeth and glances away. “No.”

  “Glad to hear it. I don’t know how to make anything without meat. Why don’t you sit by the fire in my chair? Your hair will dry faster that way.”

  I watch her walk to my recliner and perch her heart-shaped ass on the very edge. The rejection pierces my chest. Even though she’s not rejecting me personally, not snuggling into my very comfortable chair feels like she’s choosing to push me away.

  She faces the flames, finger combing the thick strands. “How often do you go into town for provisions?”

  I give the simmering stew a stir with my wooden spoon. “About once a month. My sister stops by at least once, too, and she brings stuff. Mostly books, though.”

  Her head snaps up. “Books?”

  I shove my tongue in my cheek. “Yeah. I like to read in the evenings. Biographies mostly.”

  Dove turns toward the fire again, and I have to strain to make out her next words. Her tone softens, the feistiness stripped away. “I forgot what it’s like to read for pleasure. All I read are textbooks and research papers.”

  Wiping my hands on a nearby towel, I exhale. “Sounds boring.”

  “Sometimes.”

  I try to ignore how good it feels to look over and see her sitting in my chair, in my house, in front of my fire heating my cabin with wood I harvested by hand. Looking like she belongs. I’d forgotten how comforting it is to hear a woman’s voice, smell her fresh scent, see her softness.

  Shaking my head, I push the desires away. “Would you like another mug of tea? It would probably help warm you up.”

  “Okay.”

  I move around the kitchen, grateful for the activity of brewing her another cup of chamomile with lavender. Once the steaming mug of tea is ready, I walk it over and offer it to her. Her hands tremble slightly as she takes it, holding it in her palms. Without another thought, I grab my wool blanket and wrap it more tightly around her shoulders, my hands lingering a heartbeat too long.

  “Is that better?” I wait until she lifts her gaze to mine.

  “Thanks, Gray. For… everything.”

  “My pleasure.”

  I walk away when all I want to do is drag her into my lap and warm her with the heat of my body. But I don’t. Instead, I shuffle back to the kitchen, almost as if sitting in my own living room is an invasion of her personal space.

  When I saw Dove prone on the forest floor, it was like she reached deep inside my soul and brought it back to life, the desire to possess her instantaneous and consuming. For some strange reason, I already think of her as mine.

  Chapter Eight

  Dove

  After warming myself in front of the blazing fire for over an hour, the chill finally leaves my bones. During that time, I tried in vain not to stare at Gray. Something about the man pulls my gaze and my thoughts toward him. He moves about the kitchen, cleaning the counter over and over again until there can’t be a speck of dirt left.

  He’s avoiding me. Because he doesn’t like women like me who fall down in the woods and need rescuing.

  It isn’t lost on me that Gray wants me out of his cabin. Staring out the window, I glare at the still pouring rain, knowing that it’s keeping me from leaving here.

  Leaving him.

  Keeping me from going back to civilization and my research where I feel safe and secure and confident.

  Because right now, I couldn’t feel shakier if I were standing outside in the gale-force winds. The howling force circles the cabin, shaking the windows every so often. I wrap my arms around myself and give my shoulders a squeeze, wishing I were cozy in my motel room with the gold shag carpet, plaid comforter, and particle board furniture from the seventies. They don’t even have key cards yet.

  Anything would be better than being here with a man who thinks of me as an intruder. Gray walks into the room just as a thunderous boom rattles the panes of glass again. He looks outside. “It’s a bad one. Almost sounds like a hungry bear.”

  My head snaps up. “Bear? So there are bears in these woods
. When the guy at Gander Mountain told me that I thought he might just be pulling my leg.”

  He chuckles, the sound settling inside my chest. “Of course. And wolves, too.”

  I shiver and wrap the blanket tighter around me. “Damn. I’m glad I didn’t see one today. It could have killed me. I did have a can of bear spray in my pants, though.”

  “They don’t engage unless you’re bothering their food supply or their young. But if you’re ever going to be up here again doing your research, I recommend you always carry your bear spray. And maybe a rifle, if you know how to shoot.”

  I shake my head. “I’ve never shot a gun before in my life.”

  He smiles, revealing perfect teeth. My heart squeezes inside my chest. “In your line of work, it might not be a bad idea to learn. Seems like you might have to go to remote locations more than most.”

  “Where’s my backpack?” I ask, wanting anything to distract me from the heat that’s spreading throughout my limbs and settling in places it shouldn’t.

  He stands and retrieves it from a corner. “Right here.”

  I rummage through it until I pull out my latest botany text. “I guess I’ll read until dinner. I still have a few hundred pages left. You don’t mind, do you?”

  As I struggle to focus my eyes on the page, Gray settles in and puts a pair of reading glasses on his face. He picks up a book and opens it. The chemistry crackling between us doesn’t seem to affect him in the least, so I assume it’s one-sided. Damn men and their innate ability to compartmentalize. I can think of nothing but how he sends every cell in my body firing, until the words become nothing but a blurry collection of word vomit on the page.

  I clear my throat and look up, only to find him watching me. I can’t look at him; I can’t look away. It’s like I’m caught in no man’s land with land mines exploding all around me. One word. One touch. That’s all it would take, and I’d be lost.

  Glancing out the window in an attempt at distraction, I realize that darkness envelops the outside scene. I wonder if I’d hear the chirping of the crickets if they weren’t drowned out by the heavy rain. I wonder if I’d see fireflies flittering through the air. Up here, I would imagine the sunsets are spectacular, bright oranges, deep purples, and flaming reds. But I doubt I’ll ever see one. As soon as I can leave safely and go back to the city, I’m escaping this alternate universe where I think about sex more in one day than I have in my whole life.