Iâm driving up the mountain to spend another day with Phoenix, and I canât help but wonder what it would be like if this were my drive home. The more he talks about the self-sufficient life he lives out here, the more I want something like it.
More than anything, I enjoyed hanging out with Phoenix. Heâs not like the guys I grew up with or dated in the past. Heâs awkward and a bit raw with his feelings and emotions.
I grew up where everything was fake. You never knew who liked you for you or for what you could do for them. In most cases, it was the latter. So, to me, raw emotions are like a breath of fresh air.
Today, I brought my camera. I donât know if Phoenix will let me take any photos, but I hope I can convince him. I pull up to his workshop where he has both large garage doors open, and he stops and smiles when he sees me.
Itâs a genuine smile, not forced. I canât remember the last time someone smiled at me the way Phoenix is smiling at me. It makes my heart skip a beat and floods my stomach with new sensations.
I park my car and gather my stuff, feeling his eyes on me the whole time, and when I turn to open my car door, heâs right there holding it open for me. Such a gentleman.
âI set up a little table for you off to the side, but we can move anything around that you need.â He takes my computer bag from me, and we make our way into the workshop.
âBut I donât want to be in the way, and I donât want you to have to rearrange your workshop. Donât worry about me. I can fit in wherever thereâs room,â I tell him as I take in the small table and chair in the corner heâs cleared for me.
âYou arenât in the way, I promise. I wanted to make sure you were comfortable.â He sets my computer bag on the table and steps back to allow me to get situated.
I can see out both large garage doors from this corner to the cabin beyond. Plus, I have the perfect view of him working. âThank you. This is perfect. I brought my camera because I was hoping youâd let me take some pictures while youâre working. I donât have to include your face if you donât want me to.â
He seems uncomfortable with the idea and doesnât answer right away. When he shifts on his feet, Iâm sure heâs going to say no. âNone of my face or any identifying places like my cabin or the truck. And if you plan to use them, Iâd like to have approval first.â
Iâd planned to get his okay before using any of the photos I took of him or his property, but heâs smart to double-check. Once again, I wonder about his background before he came to the mountain. Maybe someday, heâll share it with me.
âOf course, and if at any point youâre uncomfortable or I get in the way, please tell me.â Sitting down at the table, I pull out my computer, planning to start with the photo editing Iâve been putting off.
He nods, turning to get back to work.
I edit photos over the next hour, glancing up often to watch him and finding his eyes already on me. He smiles shyly at me when I catch him and gets back to work. We work in comfortable silence for a while until Phoenix speaks again.
âWhat photos are you editing?â He nods towards my computer.
âOn my way up here, I drove through Yellowstone, and I took my time taking lots of photos. I sort through them to see what I might use in my book. Then I edit them to put on stock photo sites, which can earn me decent money from people purchasing them.â
I expect some questions about what a stock photo site is, but he just nods and smiles. I wonder if he knows or if heâs just not interested.
I canât take my eyes off his muscular body as he sands down the edges of a chair. Pulling out my camera, I focus on his hands working on the wood and snap a few photos. When he hears the click of the camera, he stops and looks at me.
âCome take a look.â I stand up and pull the photos up on the cameraâs screen. All you can see is the edge of the chair in his hands as he works on it.
âI donât see how that photo is of any interest.â He shakes his head and turns back to the chair.
âThis photo embodies you. Itâs woodworking, but it shows how youâre self-sufficient in making things as simple as a chair. A picture can say a thousand words, and even the simplest picture can tell a story. Anyway, this picture is just for me.â When he looks up at me, I give him a wink and sit back down in my chair.
While I know I shouldnât be flirting with him, I canât help myself. Being around this big, rough mountain man makes me feel feminine. He brings out a different side of me, and I feel safe with him. I love watching his reaction to me, almost like he isnât sure how to respond to my small-talk.
As he gets back to work, I position my camera to take a few more photos. Watching him through my camera lens and seeing his attention to detail gives me a whole new appreciation for his work. His hands are rough, calloused, and tell a story all of their own.
I snap a few photos of him for myself that no one else will see, like when he wipes his hands on his jeans as he takes a closer look at the chair. After taking a few more photos, I set the camera down and get back to work editing photos.
âAre you hungry? I made some sandwiches.â His voice breaks through my editing fog.
âYou didnât have to do that, but I am hungry. If you allow me to come back and work here again, Iâll supply lunch next time.â
âYouâre welcome back anytime, but you donât have to supply lunch. Iâm happy to do it.â
âBut if I make lunch, I can include my favorite fudge chocolate cookies. Theyâre pretty much the only thing I can bake well.â
He laughs as he pulls our sandwiches from the cooler and brings mine over to me. Leaning against the workbench closest to me, we stop and eat.
âSo, what do you do when you have downtime up here on the mountain?â
âI donât really have downtime.â He shrugs like itâs no big deal and takes another bite of a sandwich.
âEven in the winter?â
âWhen we get snowed in, Iâll generally have some wood in the house to make smaller things. I like to read. Jack will order books by the box because he loves to read, too, and when heâs done, heâll pass them on to the guys and me.â
âWhat do you like to read?â
âMystery and suspense, mostly.â
His conversation is short and right to the point, but heâs not unwilling to answer questions. We chat while we finish our lunch, saving subjects about our pasts, our families, or what brought us to Whiskey River for another time.
After lunch, we both get working again, and when Phoenix finishes the chair, I start to put my stuff away and get ready to head out. Iâve gotten more work done today than I have since I moved here.
Getting up to stretch my legs, I step outside with my camera to look around the workshop and the cabin. Phoenix seems so engrossed in what heâs working on that I donât think he realizes Iâm no longer in the workshop anymore.
When I look at the woods bordering the driveway, a bright blue shape in a tree catches my attention. I zoom in with my camera, seeing a Mountain Bluebird, and snap some pictures.
Something startles it, and it flies off. I lower the camera, and further into the woods, I spot a wolf with four little pups at her feet.
Even though the mama wolf is standing there watching me, Iâm far enough away to not be a threat. I lift my camera and zoom in to get some photos of the pups playing.
Two of them look like theyâre trying to bite each other, and itâs the cutest thing Iâve ever seen. Getting some photos of mama wolf watching over them as they play is making for some fantastic photos.
I get so lost in snapping pictures, I donât hear anyone coming up behind me. When an arm wraps around my waist and pulls me against a hard chest, I let out a squeal of surprise, and the wolves go running.
Looking over my shoulder, I find Phoenix with an angry look on his face. Itâs a little overpowering, but then I realize heâs not wearing a shirt. His bare chest pressed to my back is turning me on, and the anger on his face isnât cooling me off one bit.
He pulls me back to the workshop before letting me go. Even though I know heâs mad, just having his arm around me is a turn-on and confusing as hell. Heâs angry, but itâs making me hot. Iâve never experienced that before, and I donât know what to make of it.
âWhat the hell were you thinking?â he demands once we reach the workshop.
âWhat? I was just taking photos,â I say as I start flipping through the photos on my camera.
âThis isnât the zoo. Those are wild animals. One wrong move and that wolf would have attacked you to protect those pups. She would have torn you to shreds!â he yells.
Iâve never heard this man raise his voice. Hell, most of the time, I struggle to hear him. Looking up at him, I realize heâs serious about this.
âBut I didnât look for them. I was taking photos of a bird and saw the wolves. I was plenty far away. I know animal safety, and I was just as safe as you wouldâve been walking to your cabin.â
âNo more wandering off. Iâm not having you get hurt on my watch. You stay in the workshop. Itâs too dangerous out there.â Some of the fight has left him, and I think we both realize we need some space.
After staring at each other for a while, he speaks again, back to his calm self. âI should have this chair finished over the weekend. The guys and I are meeting at the shop on Monday. If you want to meet us there around one, I can come out and measure the space to get started on your table.â
At least he still wants to spend time with me. Maybe things will be different in a few days.
âIâll be there.â
Leaving knowing that Iâll see him again in just a few short days has me feeling lighter than I have since I left Denver. But I should have known my past will always come back to haunt me.
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