Virgin for the Woodsman

by Eddie Cleveland

  Ok, that’s it. I drop my heavy bag from my shoulders and place it next to the toboggan. I’m going to check out this conference and see for myself that she doesn’t need me. That her little escape into the woods was just that. A break. An escape. A mini vacation from the life she wants and not the foundation for a whole new existence.

  I’ll see it with my own eyes and then I won’t be making anymore excuses. I’ll be back to my log home in three days’ time and be able to live out the rest of my life with complete certainty that I’ve made the right choice.

  And that she has too.

  33

  Sawyer

  This room is too crowded, too hot, too bright. I manage to park my ass in one of the fold down chairs and try to blend in.

  I feel like a Where’s Waldo cartoon, in my plaid coat and beanie while news reporters and tourists buzz around me.

  On the platform at the front of the room is a long table with microphones set up. News anchors gather like flies near the front, all jostling for the best position to cry out their questions while their camera operators all try to capture the ultimate angles and most flattering lighting.

  I shouldn’t be here. I look down at my calloused hands and wonder what I’m doing. This isn’t where I belong. This is Ashley’s world. A world with no place for me.

  The crowd begins to cheer and clap, many of the people around me rise to their feet as Ashley and a group of men walk onto the stage. The people around me settle back into the folding chairs as Ashley and her entourage take their seats on stage.

  I can barely hear the hotel manager make his speech. Even when the doctor reassures the crowd that Ashley is physically and mentally sound, it barely registers.

  All I can see is her. The crowd around me evaporates and the noises fade into oblivion as I watch her face. She looks lost. Her stunning features are covered in caked on makeup again, making her look older and more serious than when she was with me.

  Her long hair is pulled back into a high ponytail and her pouty lips are painted blood red.

  She looks too severe. Too contorted by lighting and cosmetics. I barely recognize the face that only hours ago, I was kissing.

  I can see her scanning the crowd, but it must be hard to see us with all the flashes exploding in front of her eyes. Ashley looks down at her hands, like she can’t face all the strangers anymore. I want to run to her. To wrap my arms around her and tell her she doesn’t need to play their games. She doesn’t need to do any of this. But I stay put.

  Suddenly the skinny man with slicked back, dark hair and an expensive suit that is sitting next to her, decides it’s time to make a speech.

  “Ashley, you’re the love of my life. When you were gone, I thought I’d lost you forever. I knew, somehow that we’d be together again. That our love would bring us back together, because you’re my soulmate,” he mugs at the cameras without even looking at her.

  That must be Ben.

  I watch as the douchebag that cheated on Ashley wipes non-existent tears from his eye.

  “Fuck you, Ben.” Ashley stands up abruptly and the crowd gasps as though she’s just declared she had a bomb. “You can’t have a soulmate when you have no soul.”

  She storms off the stage and a smile pulls at my lips. While the crowd of people throw their hands over their mouths in mock horror, I can’t help the laughter spilling out of me.

  That’s my girl.

  Ben follows her off the stage and I expect the show to be over.

  “Where the fuck do you think you’re going you ungrateful bitch?”

  I can hear his voice over the speakers in the room. We all can. That moron never turned off his microphone pack.

  “Go away. I’m not doing this anymore. We don’t love each other, Ben. Let’s not pretend that what we ever had was real.”

  I sit a little taller, my smile growing as I listen to her.

  “Who fucking cares? It’s not about that, just think of the opportunity you have here, Ashley. They’ll probably make a movie about us. You’ve never been more relevant, you were trending on Twitter. Trending.” He emphasizes and I roll my eyes.

  “I don’t care. This is over. I’m shutting down my social media. I’m done with all of this fake shit. I’m done with fake relationships and fake love and my big, fake fucking life.”

  The crowd gasps again. Apparently, these people have never heard someone swear before.

  “Don’t you walk away from me,” Ben’s voice drops as he growls at her. “I made you what you are.” I hear her cry out in pain.

  The crowd gasps again and I jump to my feet. I race down the aisle and storm the platform, dodging behind the curtains and down the hall where Ben has got his hands on my woman.

  “Let go of her now, you fucking creep,” I boom.

  “Sawyer?” Ashley twists her wrist from Ben’s grasp and rushes over to me.

  “Who the fuck are you?” He juts his jaw out at me, like he’s offering me a target.

  “Don’t worry about who I am, you just worry about keeping your hands to yourself.”

  “Get the fuck outta here, hillbilly,” Ben sizes me up and tries to push past me to grab Ashley.

  Except I don’t move.

  He might have had better luck getting the wall to budge out of his way.

  I grab him by his expensive shirt and crack him across the face with my meaty fist. In the conference room, I can hear the gasping crowd again. I swear, they’re probably fainting on the floor by now.

  Ben falls against the wall and holds himself up as he gets his bearings. “Whatever, I don’t even care about that bitch anyway,” he shakes his head and stands up like I didn’t just hand him his ass.

  Ben glares at Ashley and then at me before walking down the hall as nonchalantly as he can manage.

  Douche.

  “I thought you left.” Ashley looks up at me with tears in her eyes.

  “I couldn’t go without you,” I admit, pulling her into me. I crush her lips with my desperate kiss. A kiss I never thought I’d get to experience again. A kiss I’ll never let these lips miss for another moment.

  “I love you,” I murmur.

  “I love you too, Sawyer.” She breathes.

  “Come on, let’s get out of here,” I pull on her hand. She looks up at me knowingly and follows my lead. She knows that I’ll take care of her. That I’ll keep her safe. That as long as we’re together the rest of the world can slide away behind the setting sun.

  A world of two is all we need.

  34

  Ashley

  “Are you ready yet?” Sawyer scolds me with a smirk on his face.

  “Oh give me a break, I’m almost done,” I pull my backpack in tight against my shoulders and snap it up over my lightweight ski jacket.

  Of course, I would’ve loved it if we had run off into the woods together after the conference. It would’ve been romantic to leave in a whirlwind of optimism, letting our pasts blur behind us as we forged a new future together.

  Stupid. Reckless. Potentially deadly. But romantic.

  Instead, we’ve spent the last week getting ready to do this right. Gathering practical clothes to wear, finding my identification among my personal items that were at the resort, and getting rid of my downtown loft apartment. Most importantly, I shut down my Instagram account and abandoned my cell phone, leaving that part of my life behind forever.

  None of those things were romantic, but they were necessary to tie up all the loose ends. This decision is final, I’m not giving it a trial run, and it’s my new life. My new life with my man, off the grid. Together.

  Of course, the packing and planning might not have been very romantic, but we still had plenty of time for turning up the heat.

  I feel like it was a huge accomplishment to get Sawyer to stay with me in the city while I got all of this sorted out. Every day I made sure I showed him just how grateful I was with his patience.

  I showed him in my old bed. On the floor. In the shower. On the k
itchen counter.

  I think he got the idea.

  I smile as heat spreads throughout my body at the memories we’ve made. I can’t wait to get to his log home and begin making a lot more.

  “Ok, I’m good to go,” I smile at Sawyer and his face lights up as he grins back at me.

  “It’s about time,” he teases me. Sawyer steps toward me and wraps his huge hand around the back of my head, pulling me in for an unhurried, sensual kiss. I can feel all the tension of the week drift from my limbs as the birds chirp in the trees around us. We’re beginning our journey back through the same forest that brought us together. Sawyer said it takes three days of hiking, but I’m up for the challenge.

  “Let’s get started,” Sawyer murmurs and tilts his forehead against mine, looking at my lips with his intense brown eyes.

  He steps back and lifts the rope for his toboggan, yanking it into action and I follow behind him. No wonder his body is like forged steel. He effortlessly guides the supplies over the snow while carrying even more on his broad, strong back.

  I smile up at the bright blue sky and follow in his huge footprints. I’m ready for this.

  I’m ready to start my life with him. To take each day as an adventure. To live my life in moments instead of hashtags. I’m ready to love and be loved like I’ve only ever watched in movies. I’m ready to let the years slip by into oblivion as we grow old in each other’s arms.

  My heart is open.

  I’m ready.

  Epilogue

  Ashley

  I brush my hand over the freshly pulled carrots and small clumps of dirt fall back to the garden. Wiping my brow with the back of my free flowing, linen shirt, I look up at the enormous swatch of bright blue sky above.

  Summer is beautiful everywhere, but here, at the cottage, every moment is a lesson in the marvels of the season. I close my eyes and lean back on my hand, letting the warm breeze tickle my skin. In the distance, I can hear the water of the lake lapping at the shoreline.

  Peaceful doesn’t begin to explain this feeling. Perfection is a little closer. A shadow casts over me and I flutter my eyelids open to see Sawyer smiling down at me. On his line, he has two speckled trout hanging, ready to be turned into the freshest fillets anyone has ever tasted.

  “Those will go perfect with the salad,” I tilt my head and hold out my hand to him. Sawyer easily lifts me to my feet and wraps his rough hand around my waist.

  “How are you feeling today? You’re not pushing yourself too hard, are you?”

  “I was literally just sitting in the dirt, picking vegetables. I’m not made of glass you know,” I scold him gently. The truth is, I love his concern.

  Sawyer’s soft lips kiss a trail down the side of my sensitive neck and I don’t remember what I was saying. I moan and lean back into him, enjoying the pulses of bliss spreading through my skin.

  “No, you’re much too sweet to be made of glass. Maybe sugar,” his breath billows over my collarbone as he murmurs to me. His hand protectively rests against my belly and I lean back into his hard body, feeling like there is nothing in this world he couldn’t protect me from.

  Protect us from, I remind myself.

  “I just don’t want you pushing yourself too hard when you’ve got our little bean sprouting up inside you.” He nips my earlobe and a jolt shoots through me.

  “I’m not, don’t worry. I promise I’m taking it easy,” I reassure him for the hundredth time this week.

  It was amazing how quickly the change came. One day, Sawyer was teasing me for how little firewood I could chop, or giving me a hard time for how little water I could haul. The day we found out I was pregnant all of that changed. Out with the good-natured ribbing about my not being able to keep up, and in with the pampering. At this rate, I’ll be delivering while he fans me with fern fronds and feeds me wild blueberries one by one.

  Not that I mind. There’s something sexy about a man who takes care of his woman. Takes care of his family.

  “Let’s get you out of this heat,” Sawyer jerks his head toward the cottage and lifts the basket of food I’ve been gathering, with his free hand.

  Cottage doesn’t do our house justice. More like a log chalet perched on a mountainside with the sparkling lake a mere hundred feet away from the front door. I love sitting out on the balcony at night, listening to the crickets and watching the brightest stars I’ve ever seen light up the sky.

  When I look out over our property and see the fireflies dancing over the lawn, it’s impossible not to feel the magic of childhood course through your veins. Like dreams can still come true.

  Mine did.

  Even the childhood dream I once had of having Belle’s library is now a reality I enjoy. Catcher in the Rye might be our favorite book, but it’s far from the only one in our house. Sawyer has a two-story loft wall filled from the floor to the rafters, with books. I asked him why he built it and he said winters are long. Every time he cracked the cover of a book, it was like an instant escape from the desolation and loneliness the icy landscape brought. Some people take trips to Florida to escape the winter blues. We read.

  I follow Sawyer into the house and smile, knowing this hot, lazy day turns to a tranquil night and that will blur into another long, summer day, until it’s a new season. Then the weather will be different, but our lives will be the same. Even when our baby decides to enter the world, we’ll still live a simple life where happiness and togetherness mean more than anything else.

  “I love you,” I whisper and lean into Sawyer as we walk up the front stairs of the cottage together.

  “I love you just a tiny bit more,” he smiles and kisses my hand gently. He loves to say that, no matter how much I protest or pout, he won’t relent that his love is just an iota stronger, just runs centimeters deeper, is just a bit wider than mine.

  Today I don’t argue. Instead, I smile. Let him think he loves me more. Let me think I love him more. If that’s our biggest disagreement, then I think we’ve got it pretty good.

  Pretty perfect, really. I throw my arm around his waist and snuggle in against his hard shoulder letting the moment marinate in my soul. Enjoying every second, of every day that I have with him on this earth.

  And living it to the fullest.

  THE END

  * * *

  About the Author

  Eddie Cleveland was born and raised on the Canadian East Coast. He spent most of his twenties having reckless adventures before going back to school for pottery and graphic arts. With his travel itch still not fully scratched, he joined the Royal Canadian Navy, serving for 12 years with multiple deployments to South America and the Middle East. He recently released from the Canadian Armed Forces to pursue his passion of writing full-time. Saved by the Woodsman is his fourth novel. You can check out his other works below. Join Mailing List or Check out Facebook Page

  Check out Eddie’s Bad Boy Series

  Quickies with Eddie

  This is a light, fun group for fans of Eddie Cleveland to collaborate on a weekly short smutty story (think 5-7k erotic shorts).

  These steamy tales will go out each week, for FREE, to his newsletter subscribers as exclusive content.

  Throughout the week we will discuss the plot, settings and characters for the following week’s story.

  American Bad Boy Teaser

  1

  Lauren

  2004

  “Hey-yah!”

  We cheer in unison to the OutCast song blaring over the loudspeakers. Surrounded by a circle of my closest friends, breaking it down in gowns that are preparing us for future bridesmaid duty. I can’t believe how much fun I’m having. I look over at Becky and she’s shaking her little money maker in wild abandon. She’s in her glory right now. After months of us trying to derail her visions for our prom night theme, it finally came together. And, I’ve got to admit, it looks spectacular.

  When she first started pushing for a “Fairy-tale” theme at the council meetings, I rolled my eyes harder than a
nyone else. In all fairness though, her first pitch really wasn’t the best. Thankfully, we did manage to evolve her Disney princess idea from one that gave me a horrible flashback of my childhood fear of Mickey Mouse into the stunning setting we are dancing in now. The white, silver and teal blue balloons are tied in clusters and hung from the ceiling to look like magical clouds. At least they do under this low light. And the miles of silky fabric hung around the room transformed the Colorado Golf Club into a dreamlike stage for the class of 2004 to dance the night away in.

  It feels like everything came together tonight so perfectly, it might as well be a fairytale. Just a week ago, I was crying in my doctor’s office over an ear infection that had me so dizzy I was convinced I’d never make it to the prom tonight, let alone dance at it. I sobbed like a four-year-old lost in a department store when Dr. Klebes confirmed that I would need a day off from school and a round of antibiotics to get it under control.

  “But, but, my prom! My dress! I can’t be sick. I can’t miss it!” I’m not proud to say I cried real tears. He told me that I’d be fine by tonight, if I just got plenty of rest, water and took the pills. Turns out, he knew what he was talking about and my mini-meltdown was for nothing.

  I guess all those degrees on his wall meant something after all.

  As the song fades out, my girls and I all stand around and stare blankly at each other as we wait for the next song to tell us what to do. Will it be another fast one? Should we stay in our little scrum of ruffles and sequins? Or is the tempo change gonna send us searching for the guys we showed up with?