by Lexi Post
Grabbing the log sling from the hook on the basement wall, he piled it with smaller logs, branches and kindling, slung it onto his shoulder and made his way back upstairs. He dropped his load near the hearth.
Bea faced the valley-side windows, so he walked to the edge of the sliding-glass door and flipped on the spotlight above the deck. The bright light lit up the falling snow, making it a sparkling, silent moving picture against the black night, as if they were trapped within a snow globe.
Her eyes widened in awe as she gazed at the beauty outside before turning her attention back to her conversation.
At least she could appreciate nature’s serenity. Many women he’d known focused on how much his place was worth and didn’t get his world.
He returned to the fireplace and crouched before it to brush aside the old ash. He piled on the wood according to size, lit the newspaper and let the kindling catch flame.
Bea’s conversation drifted over to him. “But Mom, I can’t.”
Silence reigned as Bea listened to her mother. This wasn’t a conversation he should hear. Standing, he resisted the urge to gaze at her and jogged upstairs. His guest might need a few items for her unexpected stay tonight, and he didn’t want to be a poor host.
Bea covertly watched as Zach left the room and breathed a relieved sigh. She had a hard enough time concentrating on her conversation with him in the room, but the huge logs he carried upstairs had brought back the image of his naked torso, which silenced all other thoughts.
“Bea, are you still there?”
“Sorry, Mom. He’s such a distraction.”
She could almost see her mother smile on the other end of the phone. “Honey, all I’m saying is don’t end it before it begins. It’s been over fourteen years since the episode with Phillip and that was my fault. You know what your limits are now. Get creative. I know in my gut you can have a happily ever after.”
Bea pulled out a chair and sat at the table, her grandmother’s words about her mom and marriage at the forefront of her mind. “How can you know that, Mom? You didn’t get one. Unless you believe long-standing relationships with four of my possible six fathers is happy.”
“It is, honey, but yours could be better. The poison in our bodies dilutes with every generation. You have a chance.”
Bea rolled her eyes. “Yeah, so does my lottery ticket.”
Her mother sighed. “Just give it some time, that’s all I’m saying.”
Bea stared as Zach’s jean-clad legs came into view on the stairs, followed by his plaid shirt and big smile. “I have to go, Mom. I’ll call you when I get home.”
“Okay, honey. Love you.”
“Love you too.” She ended the call and dropped her phone back into her purse.
Zach crouched in front of the fire and adjusted the logs with a poker.
How could she possibly have a relationship with him without killing him? Even now she wanted to eat him up, body and soul.
He joined her and faced the window. “It’s stunning, isn’t it?”
She tore her gaze from him and focused on the falling snow. Though it came down fast, it fell in graceful disorganization like feathers. “Yes, it is. It’s so bright in the lights compared to the darkness outside.”
“That’s why I throw on the spotlight. It makes the snow feel like nature’s blanket instead of a menace.”
She stood, the need to be close impossible to resist, her body destined for his as sure as the ice on the lake would melt. She stared at him. This logger viewed snow in such unique ways. She’d never met a man like him and she’d met many.
Zach must have sensed her scrutiny because he turned his head. The green depths of his eyes were uncharted territory she hoped to investigate. But at that moment, her stomach growled.
He gave her a self-depreciating smile. “I guess I’m being a poor host.”
She averted her eyes and covered her stomach with her hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t have a chance to grab lunch today.”
“You do a lot of skipping meals, don’t you? That must be why you’re so thin. Let me see what I can find for dinner. But I warn you, I’m not a great cook.”
She shrugged. “That’s okay, maybe I can help.”
“Great.” He grabbed her hand and led her to the kitchen.
Her heart skipped a beat at the naturalness of his action and warmth spread up her arm into her chest.
He released her as he opened the refrigerator and searched. “I wasn’t expecting company. I’m not sure what we have to work with. I have a few eggs and some shredded mozzarella. I have pepperoni slices, mushrooms, tomatoes, carrots, but no lettuce. I guess a salad is out. I have more food in the freezer, but I’m not sure your stomach can wait that long.”
Bea looked over his shoulder from the safety of the other side of the island counter. “Hmmm, do you have any macaroni and cheese?”
He closed the refrigerator and squatted to open a cabinet. “Just the Kraft kind. I also have some canned mushroom soup, tomato sauce and applesauce. I think mixing those together won’t be very appetizing.”
Bea came around the counter. Zach’s position put his face even with the juncture of her legs and her heart started to race. She stepped back a few inches. “Perfect. Grab the mac and cheese box and the tomato sauce.”
He obeyed and rose with the items in his hands.
She stepped back farther in an effort to concentrate on dinner instead of him, not an easy task. “Okay, I’m assuming you know how to make that.” She pointed to the box of mac and cheese.
He raised a brow. “I did buy it so I can make it.”
She widened her eyes in mock surprise. “Really? Great. Then you can get that started. We can make my mom’s favorite comfort food. Macaroni and cheese pizza.”
“You’re shittin’ me.”
She laughed. “No, I’m not. Now if you have a long casserole dish…”
In no time she had everything she needed. As she opened her other ingredients, he stood at the stove. The whole domestic scene tugged at her resolve. As she feared, her attraction to him far exceeded a simple physical need. She liked him. A lot.
Once he finished his part, she put everything together and stuck it in the oven. “It’ll need to bake for thirty-five minutes.”
He raised his brows. “Can you wait that long?”
She shrugged, feeling a little shaky from hunger. “I’m not sure.”
He opened a door on the kitchen island to reveal a wine cooler with a dozen bottles. “Red or white? I don’t know what goes with what. I just drink what I like.”
So, her beer-drinking hunk liked wine too. He kept getting better and better. “How about red then.”
“Red it is. And if you open the cabinet behind you, you’ll find crackers.”
She brought out some wheat crackers and arranged them on a plate. “This will definitely do.”
She looked up when he didn’t respond and found him watching her. Her stomach tightened at his gaze, but he returned his attention to his task.
“Good.” He uncorked the wine bottle and poured them each a glass, then led the way into the living room.
She followed and made herself comfortable on the couch. The fire spread a golden glow over the furniture and the warmth from burning logs made the room inviting and cozy.
He sat on the couch next to her, but allowed her space. She brought her leg up underneath her and took a sip of wine.
“You better have a few of these too.” He held out the plate of crackers.
She nodded and took two.
“You wanted to know more about me. Ask away. This is a perfect opportunity.” He sat with his forearms on his knees, angled toward her.
She swallowed hard. What she really wanted to know about was his love life, but she might give him the wrong impression. “How about this house? Did you build it? I mean, it’s huge and I didn’t realize loggers made that much. I mean, that didn’t come out right. What I meant was—”
“That’s
okay. You’re right, loggers don’t make enough to build a house like this. I owned a logging company and sold it for a better profit than most would get.”
She stroked the side of her glass. “Why? Was the buyer a city person who didn’t realize what your company was worth?”
He smirked. “Not exactly. After I sold the company, I found this piece of land and knew in my gut that this house had to be built here. It took a year to complete, but it was worth the wait.”
Bea perused the room because looking at him distracted her too much. “It really is a beautiful home. It’s almost as large as another of the Larsen’s properties, the Boat House Inn.”
“Thank you, but it’s not quite that big. I kept it very simple, large and open down here with smaller functional rooms upstairs.”
She glanced at the stairs. His bedroom would be up there. Would he have a big, masculine, king-size bed? She could almost picture herself naked, spread-eagled as he slowly licked his way up the inside of her thighs before exploring the secret spaces around her opening and finally stopping to play with her clit. Yes, he would play for a long time. She took a gulp of wine, her blood heating.
He put his glass on the pine coffee table before he caught her gaze. “What about you? How long have you worked for the Larsens?”
She loved the color of his eyes. They were happy eyes with the appropriate lines in the corners. Her heart beat faster and she took another sip of wine. “Um, the Larsens?” She tried to concentrate on the conversation because the Larsens and her love life simply didn’t belong in the same thought process.
She stared at her glass, stalling for time, trying desperately to get her mind back on the right track. “Let’s see, it’s been seven years now. When they arrived in town, they took me under their wing. They taught me all they knew about the hospitality business and encouraged my studies in that area. It took a long time and a lot of nights, but I finally earned my degree from the university this past December.”
He leaned back on the couch, away from her. “Congratulations, that’s quite an accomplishment. I imagine working and studying is hard. Being a logger is more of a ‘learn on the job’ type of career.”
She noticed a tensing in his jaw. There was something about the experience he obviously didn’t like. “How did you start with the carvings?”
He shrugged. “After I finished the house, I got bored. One day I was outside fooling around with my chainsaw and before I knew it, I had a six-foot carved bear staring back at me. But he wasn’t very good company, so I brought him to Bear Tracks Bar. Tracy, the owner, loved him and gave me free beer for a month.”
Zach’s withdrawal concerned her. It was as if he wasn’t concentrating on their conversation. “I would imagine the bear was worth a lot more than that.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so. After a year, I gave her a better one. She had been telling people about me. With the roughed-out bear standing next to the entrance, more people started coming in for a beer and to find out how to get a bear. Next thing I knew, I was setting up shop and built the little cabin out on the driveway.”
“Didn’t you like your bear?”
He leaned forward. “Let’s just say I got better with practice. That first bear was put to good use. I donated him for the town’s Fourth of July bonfire.”
She put down her wineglass. “It sounds as if he made the ultimate sacrifice for his country.”
Zach chuckled. “Yeah, I guess he did. Never thought of it that way.”
She liked his smile. He had deep lines etched around his mouth, probably because he smiled so much. How wonderful it must be to laugh as much as he did.
“Bea?”
She started, caught staring again.
“If you keep looking at me like that, you’re going to find yourself naked on those sheepskins in no time.”
She glanced at the beige softness before the now-roaring fire and shivered. She could imagine the feel of them against her naked skin.
“Come.” Zach stood beside her, his hand outstretched.
Did he want her to get undressed? A shiver of anticipation raced across her skin. She took his hand, but didn’t look at him as his warm palm heated her own.
He tipped her chin up. “We better check on dinner.”
She met his gaze as realization dawned. “Of course, it should be done by now. I hope we didn’t overcook it.”
He led her into the kitchen, but instead of releasing her hand, he boxed her in against the island counter. “Bea, you need to accept that I will not take advantage of you. However, the chances of us making love tonight are at about one hundred percent. Don’t you think?”
Her breath caught in her throat at the baldness of his statement, but she couldn’t deny it. Her body completely agreed with him and from the weakening of her limbs and the hardening of her nipples, it was ready to prove him right—immediately. Slowly, she nodded.
His smile lit his face before he bent his head to pull her into a soul-searching kiss. She wound her arms around his neck and his hard body pressed her against the counter. As their tongues entwined, she forgot to breathe.
Abruptly, he stepped away and put his hands into his front pockets, a gesture she was coming to adore. He stared at her as if he had to make a life-changing decision, but then looked away.
He strode around to the stove and turned off the oven. He didn’t glance at her. “I’m glad that’s settled. Do me a favor and pour us more wine and I’ll serve.”
Breathless, she managed to nod at his back and went to the living room to retrieve their glasses.
Unsteadily, she poured their drinks and set them in front of the plates. He had put their plates across the table from each other instead of next to each other like he had the last time. Perplexed, she sat as he served.
He took his seat and without looking at her, dug in, but his eyes widened.
She paused with a forkful at the ready. “Is it okay?”
Zach looked at her as he chewed and winked. “This is good.”
“You sound surprised.”
He took a gulp of wine. “Well, you have to admit, using boxed macaroni and cheese to create a pizza doesn’t sound…normal.”
She crinkled her nose. “Hey, I grew up eating this, but I guess you’re right.”
“Of course I’m right.”
“Oh please.”
Zach laughed. He liked this woman. She was different from other lovers he’d had. Getting laid had never been a problem for him. Keeping it to no more than three times, his magic number, was tough, but it was for their own good. As much as he wanted a lifelong partner, his two deadly engagements had cured him of that dream.
They ate in companionable silence, something his parents often did. When he finished every single morsel, he sat back. “That was excellent.”
A light blush rose in her cheeks. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. And you’ll have some for tomorrow, if you want. Do you eat leftovers?”
He stood and picked up the plates. “All the time. I think cooking for one is a pain in the— Uh…so I make something big on the weekend and live off that for a few days. Afterward, it’s catch as catch can. Bear Tracks Bar is usually the main catch.”
Bea brought her wineglass and sat on the stool at the island counter behind him as he rinsed the dishes and loaded the dishwasher. He wished she’d sidle up against him instead of sitting on the stupid stool.
“If you only cook for one, does that mean you’re between girlfriends right now?”
He paused before slipping the last dish into the rack. Subtle she wasn’t. And it wouldn’t be cool to explain he didn’t have girlfriends per se. “You’re pretty blunt, even for an Italian.”
She shook her head. “Oh, I’m not Italian. I mean, yes, my name is and my Rappaccini ancestor was, but there have been so many nationalities in the family, I couldn’t claim to be anything but a mutt.”
He gazed at her. Black straight hair, prominent nose, deep-brown eyes and olive skin so smooth he
never missed an opportunity to touch her. His brain screamed pure-blooded, hot Italian. “Well, I would guess there must have been more Italians than mutts in your background.”
She broke eye contact, absently swirling the remaining wine in her glass. “That could be, but it would be difficult to know. Just like it’s difficult to know if you have someone special in your life at the moment. I mean, if you do, she wouldn’t appreciate me being here.”
The familiar gut reaction made him turn his back on her and move to the fridge. His “someone specials” had died. There was no way he’d risk having another one. “I don’t cheat if that is what you’re asking.” He grabbed a beer, closed the door and faced her. “Do you?”
She squirmed in her seat and finished her wine before she answered. The pause made him wonder what she hid.
“No, I don’t cheat. Actually, I haven’t had anyone around long enough for that to be a possibility.”
She looked him in the eye before she continued. “My one long-term relationship was with my first boyfriend. He went into a coma, but he came out of it. Thank God. I hope he found a great woman to marry. I know he’s better off without me.”
Zach’s mind buzzed. She felt guilty her boyfriend went into a coma. Why? Did she cause his coma? Was there an accident? Maybe she could relate to what he’d been through and understand his limitation on their time together. He found himself wanting to know, but he didn’t want to get serious right now. No, he wanted to get naked. He reached his hand out to her. “Come.”
Gracefully, she rose from the stool and let him lead her into the living room. This time, when she sat on the couch, he sat next to her, putting his arm around her as they faced the fire. He leaned in to nibble on her ear. “I want you, Bea.”
The tremor that passed through her body told him all he needed to know. Turning her head to face him, he initiated a kiss. No sooner had her tongue touched his then his cock hardened. At this rate it would all be over in five minutes, and he prided himself on his ability to please a woman. He forced himself to take control of his body while he enjoyed the sweet recesses of her mouth before nibbling a path down her soft neck. She smelled like oranges, and he inhaled deeply.
