Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23722 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 119(@200wpm)___ 95(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23722 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 119(@200wpm)___ 95(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
I know I shouldn’t let him get to me. Shouldn’t let him derail my dreams or deter me from following my passion. He’s not worth it. He is not worth the mental and emotional energy I’m still giving him. Every time I fail to take a photo because I hear him telling me I suck, he’s living rent-free in my head. I know all this and yet… no matter how hard I try to block him out, I can’t. He gets to me. Every. Single. Time.
That’s part of the reason I’m out here. To reset. To find a way to put the past behind me and rekindle that spark of passion that I’ve been missing for… a while now. Maybe spending a few weeks out here among the trees in the fresh air, clearing my mind, will help me do that. At least, that’s what I’m hoping. It’s why I’m here.
As I walk along the path, the air reverberates with a hard thwack, thwack, thwack. Curious, I walk along the path through the trees, following the sound. Stopping just before I enter a clearing, I hide behind the wide, thick trunk of a tree and peek around.
“Oh my,” I whisper.
Out in the clearing is a man who’s wearing nothing but blue jeans and fawn-colored work boots. He’s six-three at least, with a wide, thick body tightly corded with muscles that are slicked with sweat. His body glistens in the dying sunlight, and his muscles ripple and flex as he chops a pile of wood, and heat blossoms in my belly, quickly moving lower inside of me.
As if he senses my presence behind the tree, the man lowers his axe and turns to me. Our eyes meet, and I feel my heart leap into my throat. A sharp squeak bursts from my mouth, and I turn quickly, then dash back down the path toward the cabin, my pulse racing, my blood pumping, and that heat within me burning brighter as I try—and fail—to banish the images of the brawny, half-naked man from my mind.
2
ELI
My skin prickles, and the hair on the back of my neck stands on end, which tells me I’m being watched. It’s that sixth sense that kept me out of a lot of bad shit back when I was in a combat zone. I’ve learned to trust it. Rely on it. I lower the axe and turn to the trees that ring the clearing and spot her. And the moment I do, I feel my stomach lurch.
She’s small, no more than five-two or so, with rich auburn hair that falls to her shoulders and deep brown eyes. Her complexion is milky white, like cold porcelain, and she’s got a small, petite figure. Even through the hoodie she’s wearing, though, I can see her full breasts and generous curves. She looks young, but I can tell she’s all woman. And she’s fucking gorgeous.
When our gazes lock, her mouth falls open, and I can hear her squeak, even from where I’m standing. She quickly turns and runs, seeming to be heading in the direction of the cabins I own. Nobody else should be up here, and I’ve only got one renter at the moment, which tells me that was very likely Emery Pierce hiding behind that tree, gawking at me.
When I read through her rental application a couple of weeks ago, I got no sense that she was so young. If I had, I probably would have rejected it. Young girls—young people in general, really—tend to be more trouble than they’re worth. Loud music, louder parties, and rampant alcohol and drug use. I’ve had to deal with it more than once after somebody rented one of my cabins. It’s why I have such strict rules about my rentals.
I listen to the rustle of the undergrowth and snapping twigs as she retreats for a minute before turning back to the task at hand. It takes me another half an hour to finish chopping my pile of wood. After that, I load it into the wheelbarrow, then throw my t-shirt on and haul it all back to my cabin. I stack it up in the box just outside my front door, close the lid, and lock it up.
By the time I’m done, the sun is slipping below the horizon, casting the sky in soft, dark purple and blue hues. Starlight begins to twinkle overhead like cold chips of diamond, and the temperature begins its nightly plunge. The forest around me is perfectly still. Perfectly silent. This far away from the so-called civilized world, it’s easy to imagine that I’m the last person on Earth. And that probably wouldn’t be such a bad thing. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’d be okay with that.
Standing on the porch of my cabin, I breathe deeply, savoring the rich, earthy aroma of the forest around me and listen to the night creatures begin to stir. With a sense of satisfaction, I turn and head back into my cabin and close the door, locking it behind me. I turn on my Bluetooth speaker and start my randomized playlist, and as the hard-rocking Battery by Metallica fills my cabin, I grab a can of stew from the pantry and put it on the stove.