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a number of variations on the theme we talked about the other day.”
    Her flush faded as she focused on his work.
    “Here is the basic premise with the state flower and
forsythia thrown in.” He pointed to the sketch on her left.
    She appeared to study it, but he wasn’t sure she actually
saw it. Good. He hoped she had a hard time concentrating because he sure as
hell did. All he could think about was how smooth her skin felt. How much he
wanted to cover her curvaceous body with his and sink his cock deep inside her
pussy.
    He counted to ten and moved another drawing in front of her.
“This one brings out the wildlife, so the focus is on the beaver and the woodpecker,
but I’ve also thrown in the Monarch butterfly, wooly caterpillar and a raccoon.
On this third sketch, I’ve kept everything in life-size proportion, but had to
leave off the insects because the chainsaw can’t do that type of detail.”
    She perked up. “That’s the one. It’s perfect. And I just
know Sharon will love it.” She looked up at him, her eyes shining with
excitement.
    He grinned. People’s reactions to his work still surprised
him. He was just a logger and it amazed him to find someone like her energized
by what he did for fun. Did she know her eyes sparkled when she was happy?
“You’re sure?”
    She peered at the sketch again. “Oh yes, absolutely. Can you
really do this with a chainsaw?”
    He leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms and raised an
eyebrow. “You doubt I can?”
    She flushed. “No, I mean a chainsaw appears to be a bit
unwieldy for such small detail.”
    “Actually, a chainsaw is an amazing machine if you respect
it. In comparison to the trees it can fell, it’s a small tool, yet it brings
down giants in the forest. Don’t get me wrong, it can be a pain in the���uh.
Jamming, not starting and kicking away can occur, which is frustrating as hell
and dangerous. But if you take care of it, watch where you put it to work and
prepare for the worst at all times, you can accomplish a lot.”
    Bea focused on every word he uttered. Her absolute attention
caused a warmth to spread through his chest that he had experienced only a
couple times before. He leaned forward. “Some people see it as a loud,
cumbersome machine. Many lifetime loggers curse it. But my father taught me to
respect it. If you ignore its look and sound, you can use it as finely as a
paintbrush, though I admit I haven’t achieved that level yet.”
    Bea touched his arm. The connection sent blood racing to his
groin, but she appeared innocent in her enthusiasm. “You may call yourself a
logger, but you’re an artist at heart. When did you start logging?”
    He placed his hand on hers, needing to feel her bare skin.
“I was nine. That’s when my father first took me to the sites. I wasn’t allowed
to do much at first. Frankly, I was too small, but as I grew, he allowed me
more responsibilities.”
    She sat back, pulling her hand from his hold. He resisted
the urge to take it back. She cocked her head. “How old were you when you took
down your first tree?”
    He smirked. “Let’s put it this way, I was too young for it
to be legal.”
    Her face flushed. She had to be as affected by their mutual
attraction as he was.
    He pushed back his chair and rose. “I have a photo of me
with that tree. It’s not that impressive because the tree is down, but I
remember how tall it was.”
    He walked into the living room to the corner between the
fireplace and great windows where a small photo in a black frame hung on the
log wall. He pointed. “That’s me and my first pine.”
    She moved closer. “You look maybe fourteen. That tree is
huge. It doesn’t even fit in the photo.”
    Zach stepped up behind her and pointed to another small
person in the left corner of the picture. “That’s Josh, my best friend. He’s a
doctor at a research hospital here in New Hampshire. He only did logging during
his summer breaks from school.”
    His breath