Loved by the LumberJacks_A MFMMMM Reverse Harem Romance

by Sierra Sparks

  “Shipping’s a little slow from up here, you might imagine,” said Ash. “Sometimes we drive the pieces downtown to ship and sometimes they’ll come up here to get them. This time of year, UPS is a little skittish. I’ve had customer drive in terrible weather to pick up the pieces themselves sometimes.”

  “I assume the furniture is not cheap,” I said.

  “You assume correctly, girl,” said Ash. “You can’t spend six weeks building a wardrobe and sell it for peanuts. Craftsmen are a rare thing these days. Fortunately, most of our customer base can afford it. Don’t let them cry poor to you over the phone!”

  We looked over the half finished pieces in various stages of construction. As Ash explained, his eyes lit up. You could tell he was really into his work. He put love and care into each piece of furniture he built over the years.

  “This is a special piece,” he said, gesturing to a headboard. “This guy called and wanted a headboard for him and his wife. He ordered it five years ago when they had just met.”

  “Wow, he knew that fast, huh?”

  “Yeah, that’s what they say about love,” said Ash, trailing off.

  There was awkwardness, suddenly. Ash was really into me. God, these guys are so great. Why did there have to be five all a once though? Who could choose?

  “Anyhow, he had their whole life picture in the headboard,” explained Ash. “Here they are on their first date. Here they are getting married, then buying a house, having kids and growing old together.”

  “What was he going to do if they broke up, I wonder.”

  “Well, they’re getting married and this is his wedding present to her. Gotta hand it to the guy, he called it. If he hadn’t, I suppose I would’ve just sold it to someone else. Doubt he would’ve wanted it.”

  “That would’ve been incredibly sad,” I noted. “Unrequited love immortalized. I’m glad they’re still together, because unrequited love is the worst.”

  Again, awkward moment. Now I’m doing it.

  “Was this your dad’s workshop back in the day?” I asked.

  “Yeah, he built this place too,” said Ash. “We expanded, got new tools, redid the wiring, but its basically the same. He did handmade furniture most of his life. You think I’m impressive, I had nothing on him. I’m an artist, but he was a genius.”

  “Are some of his pieces in the house that I’ve seen?”

  “The nightstand in the guest room you’re in.”

  “No way!” I said. “I was just going to say that piece! Ya know, it was kind of perfect. The way the drawer moved in and out.”

  “Perfectly balanced,” said Ash in awe.

  “It really is.” I agreed. “But c’mon, you’re just as good. Learning at the feet of the master.”

  “It’s true, he did teach me,” admitted Ash. “Sometimes I wonder if I’ll be like him at the end. His eyes and hands started going on him. We craftsmen only have so many years in us.”

  “Now you’re making me sad.”

  “Oh, I don’t mean to. “That’s what makes these pieces special to a lot of folks. For an artist can only make so many.”

  “Maybe someday you’ll have a son to pass down the family legacy,” I said. “And your awesome skills.”

  “I’m getting up there,” said Ash. “But someday. Maybe.”

  Ash sort of looked away. Guess I hit a nerve with that comment. I didn’t really mean to. He was so kind. I still couldn’t believe he wasn’t married. What woman wouldn’t be attracted to a rugged artist outdoorsman? I mean, a guy that could build you furniture? It would be almost as good as a guy who could make you shoes.

  “This piece over here,” said Ash, gesturing to a desk. “This guy is a CEO out in Silicon Valley. He grew up around here and wanted something to remind him of his roots. I’m in the middle of carving the mountain range on the front of the desk. You see it?”

  “Wow, yeah,” I said impressed. “So you built the desk first and then did the carving?”

  “Well, you have to carve the wood somewhat to piece it together, but the decoration is last, yeah,” explained Ash. “I guess it’s like putting the finishing touches on a house or a birthday cake. You bake the cake, then you make the roses out of icing.”

  “Do you paint them over there?” I asked.

  “We stain, we don’t paint,” explained Ash. “We want the natural wood to come out in every piece. Paint just covers it up. Then we cover it with several coats of shellac. That’s the most frustrating part sometimes. The piece is finished and you have to wait days for the shellac to dry and then do it again, do it again.”

  “Is that what those fans are for?” I noted.

  “Yeah, we blow hot air on some of the pieces,” explained Ash. “Makes the shellac dry faster. Still not fast enough for me. That’s the boring part of it really.”

  “None of this stuff seems boring to me.”

  “Ah, you’re just saying that,” dismissed Ash.

  “No, seriously, I really love furniture,” I said. “I would sometimes go into the furniture galleries just to look around. Unfortunately, the stuff in stores wasn’t nearly as impressive as all this.”

  “That stuff’s crap.”

  “I know, right? I saw stuff and the salesman– This was the salesman, told me it was actually pressed newspaper from China.”

  “Wait, the furniture was made of paper?!”

  “Yeah, like pressed together in this weird process,” I explained. “He said it was fine, as long as you never got it wet!”

  “That’s almost tragic to me,” said Ash. “But I guess people need cheap furniture too. Most people couldn’t afford this stuff.”

  “I’m really impressed,” I said. “You guys are just so handy.”

  “Aw, it’s not that hard,” Ash assured. “You should get your hands dirty. C’mon, let’s try some.”

  “What? Me? You mean, like carving stuff?”

  “Yeah, it’s not surgery, it’s just wood.”

  “I don’t want to waste the wood,” I dismissed. “What if I mess up your piece?”

  “Trust me, every good artist knows how to take a mistake and turn it into a positive. Here, put on some safety goggles.”

  I put on some goggles and we walked over to a saw. It had a tiny little blade that moved up and down rapidly. With work gloves on, Ash moved a block of wood underneath the saw and started carving. He kept flipping the block over and turning and twisting it. The next thing I knew, it looked like a ship! I didn’t even realize what he was making until the last few strokes. It was impressive!

  “DaVinci used to say, the sculpture was inside the rock, you just have to find it,” Ash said over the machine. “That’s how I feel about the wood. C’mon. You try. Put on those gloves.”

  Ash put his big strong arms around me and over my hands. He took another block of wood and guided me to lead it through the saw. I have to admit, it was hard to concentrate. I could feel that he was built solid, like one of his furniture pieces. He smelled like fresh saw dust and man. It was a good smell. One I could get used to.

  I didn’t tune completely out because I didn’t want to get my fingers cut off. Not that I really worried about that with Ash there, but still, it was a dangerous tool. Round and round the block of wood went, until it emerged as a bear. I let Ash take over and he pushed it against the saw to make a nose, ears and eyes. It was really quite remarkable and as fast as he did it, I was wondering how it took him so long to do some of the pieces. The man was gifted.

  He reached for another piece of wood and I reached for it too. As he bent down, our eyes met. We were close. I felt like we could kiss. All I had to do was lean my head a little bit. We just locked eyes, frozen in the moment. Neither of us made a move. Ash swallowed hard and looked away.

  “Ahem,” he said, clearing his throat and turning off the saw. “Elm probably wants you back in the office.”

  “Yeah, probably,” I admitted. “Well, thanks for showing me around. I was really impressed with everythi
ng. You’re just– Amazing.”

  “Yeah, you too,” said Ash, his voice thick and misty.

  In that moment, I thought about rushing to his arms and kissing him. I just wanted to hold him and be held by him. I thought about taking him up on his dream offer of sharing me. Who cares? All these guys were great. But again, I brought myself back to reality. People don’t live that way.

  Do they?

  Chapter 8:

  Teak

  For the next three days, Lila lived and worked with us while getting settled in. It was pretty great having her around. Things on the mountain got a little boring sometimes, so having a new person see our operation was great. We were having breakfast when I got an idea.

  “Oh, man, this is crispy bacon,” she complimented. “Nice job, Oak.”

  “Hey, Lila,” I started. “The county roads are finally plowed now that the snow stopped. I was going to put the plow on our big truck and plow the road back to town.”

  “You have to plow the roads? Jeez, you guys really do own the mountain,” she said.

  “Yeah, well, I’m going to make a supply run while I’m going down, why don’t you come with me? Is that cool, Elm?” I asked.

  “I should be able to hold down the fort a while,” he granted. “I’ll call it an extended lunch break.”

  We finished up breakfast and got ready to go outside. Lila put on her jacket. She didn’t have any boots, but we managed to scrounge up a pair that fit.

  “My God, the snow,” she said when we got outside. “Does it snow like this all the time? Was there a winter alert?”

  “Oh, this is nothing,” I boasted. “Just a regular snow. One time we got eight feet. Had to keep clearing it from the roofs and it buckled the roof of the truck.”

  “Wow, I can’t even imagine.”

  “Here, grab a broom,” I said. “Let’s clear the truck.”

  We took a few minutes to brush the snow off the top of the truck. It was a few years old, but reliable. You could probably drive in any weather with it. When the eight foot snow hit, I dug a tunnel to get to it, started it up and just drove it through the parking lot to clear a lane.

  Climbing inside, I warmed it up and we started plowing the parking lot. With our full-sized plow and truck, it only took a few minutes.

  “I can tell you do this all the time,” said Lila. “Like three swipes and you were done.”

  “Living up here, you just get used to it.”

  I drove out of the parking lot, plowing all the way. Slow and steady wins the race when you’re plowing.

  “When we come back, we’ll plow the other side,” I explained. “If we had to wait for the county or state to do it, we’d be stuck up here all winter.”

  “I’m such an idiot for driving up here,” she said. “If you guys weren’t up here, I could’ve died.”

  “It’s a real problem in this region,” I warned. “People get trapped in the snow at the bottom of the mountain. You’re on some lonely road, get stuck with nowhere to go, no phone signal– Better start walking!”

  “And I didn’t have any boots either,” she said. “Jeez, I was really unprepared. I feel like such an amateur.” She brightened quickly, turning to me.

  “Guess you don’t plant many trees this time of year, huh?”

  “Nah. The ground’s frozen. Nothing really grows this time of year anyway. Although I have a few baby saplings in my room under a lamp in my closet. Looks like I’m growing pot, but I’m growing trees.”

  “Tree farmer!” she kidded.

  “I never minded that label at all, as you recall,” I laughed. “Elm calls us lumberjacks, like we were living in the 1940’s or something. He’s such a weirdo sometimes.”

  “I was never much of a plant person myself,” she said. “I have a black thumb. All my houseplants died.”

  “Wow, I guess it’s a good thing you’re not a mother, then.” I meant to joke.

  “Uh, definitely not,” she said uncomfortably.

  There was an awkward silence. I was never good with jokes and felt like I had ruined the moment. I desperately searched my brain for a response that would restore the mood. Fortunately, Lila did the work for me.

  “What kind of tree is that?” she asked, pointing.

  “Oh, that looks like a Abies Lasiocarpa, otherwise known as a Subalpine Fir,” I explained.

  “What kind of furniture do you make from that?”

  “Oh, that’s not a tree we’d cut for furniture,” I explained. “That would be something people would use for a Christmas tree or maybe paper. Makes good fire wood. Maybe you could build something for outside with it, like a chair or a table, but it’s definitely not for the high end pieces we make.”

  “Well, excuse me, Mr. Wood Snob,” Lila teased.

  “You have to know your wood.”

  “What’s that one?”

  “Juniperus Ashei.”

  “Jeez, you barely looked at it!”

  “I know my trees! It’s an Ashe Juniper. I can just tell.”

  “Is that a furniture tree?”

  “Not the first choice,” I explained. “It’s really better for fence posts and telephone poles.”

  “Wow, I figured most of these trees would be for furniture. You have to be really picky, I guess.”

  “Yeah and not only that, but a pretty good side tree will make a lot of furniture. We try to use as much as the trunk and some of the bigger branches as possible. Some of the trees are so large, we can’t get them back to the woodshop before the weather starts to warp them.”

  “Have you ever had your brothers make something out of the trees you planted?”

  “No,” I smiled.

  “What?” she said. “That’s a legitimate question!”

  “I’m smiling because the trees are just saplings when I’m planting them,” I explained. “Takes decades for them to grow. I’ll be in my sixties before any of the trees I planted will be ready to become a piece of furniture.”

  “Oh, right,” she realized. “I wasn’t thinking. Do you have any fast growing trees or special tree secrets to grow the wood faster?”

  “I guess the Nuttall’s Oak is the fastest growing tree, but that doesn’t grow all the way up here. It’s more of a shade tree you’d plant at your house.”

  “So there’s no way to make the trees grow faster?”

  “Not really, you just have to wait.”

  Lila made a face, folded her arms and laughed to herself.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I guess I just don’t like to wait,” she laughed. “I thought there would be some trick to it.”

  “The real trick is that we sometimes have to go down the mountain to find the right wood,” I explained. “Although once in a while, we find something pretty old up top. Exploring the mountain is a constant process. You never know what you’re going to find.”

  “Are there old caves and Indian burial mounds?”

  “No, not up here. Plenty of animals though.”

  “Snakes?” she asked, worried.

  “Not this far up. Bears once in a while and plenty of birds.”

  “Oh, God, bears again…”

  “Well, not just bears you have to watch out for,” I explained. “They’re hibernating. Bobcats and wolves are still active.”

  “Wolves? Every time I find out more about this mountain, I find another way I could’ve died.”

  “Bobcats would avoid you, but yeah, wolves you have to watch out for. They hunt in packs. If you stayed in your car, you’d be fine.”

  “Yeah, until I freeze to death!”

  “Well, at least you wouldn’t be eaten by wolves.”

  “But I probably would get out of the car, thinking I can walk to a gas station or get help and then the wolves would find me! What do I do then?”

  “Do you have any fire?”

  “No! Where am I supposed to get fire in that scenario?”

  “Lighter?”

  “Don’t smoke.”

  �
��Weapons?”

  “I think I have a nail file somewhere.”

  “Okay, you tie the nail file to you hand and any wolf that gets close, you stab him.”

  “That really work?”

  “No.”

  “Teak! This is scary! You’re suppose to give me some hope that I’m going to survive the wolves.”

  “You can climb a tree. You get up a few branches and you realize you have a phone signal. Then you call for help and are rescued from the wolves.”

  “Thank you!” she sighed. “Now I have hope I can actually survive out here. I gotta get a gun or something.”

  “Meh, gun won’t help that much.”

  “Teak.” She was positively squirming.

  “Well, you can shoot the pack leader and the noise would scare them away for a while, but if they’re stalking you…”

  “You are like the tour guide from Hell.”

  “I’m just telling you the truth! Stay in your car.”

  “My car? The one that fell off a cliff?”

  “Well, I assume if you were in it, you could get the car to stop before going off a cliff.”

  “Not in this weather.” She sighed dramatically, making me chuckle. “I think the best strategy is, I’ll stick with you. That way if we’re eaten by wolves, I can at least blame you.”

  “Okay,” I laughed. “A sound strategy.”

  We continued to talk and laugh the rest of the way down the mountain. Lila really brought out the best in me. I liked how she made me relax.

  Chapter 9:

  Lila

  I didn’t really get to see town when I drove through it before. Obviously, I was too caught up in my own drama. Teak drove me to the local mechanic. When we arrived at the garage, the mechanic, an older guy named Bart, was in a loud argument with this guy in a sports jacket. The sports jacket guy steadied himself with a cane that looked pretty expensive.

  “I pay you good money for these plows and I expect them in working order when it snows, Bart!” shouted the man.

  “Please, Mr. Johnson, I’m working as fast as I can,” pleaded the mechanic. “This snowstorm caught us off guard and I do have other customers.”