Page 17
Story: Ferocious Mountain Man
“Same,” I said.
It was a joke between us. Occasionally, one of us would say “same” when the other said “I love you.” But tonight, it helped us communicate without everyone nearby hearing.
From there, chaos reigned. Our friends poured in, gaping in awe as they took in Seduction Summit’s newest event location. The group naturally separated, and I ended up with my crew—the guys I worked side by side with every day. They were my brothers. Some were my fellow soldiers. Some had served at different times, in different platoons, but we’d built our own base here.
Sahara led us all on a tour. It was a fairly small place, but there were long tables with an easel at each station, along with a section in the back where they’d prepare hors d’oeuvres and wine to serve everyone.
My wife would lead her customers through painting simple pieces of art. Flowers, mostly. She’d be getting some practice next week when the women in our group showed up for friends-and-family night. Enzo and I were joining them, but the rest of the guys had wiggled out of it.
“We have a surprise for the guys,” Sahara announced at the end of the tour.
All seven of them stood smiling at us. They were grouped in the area where Sahara would stand when she led sessions here.
Vanessa and Sahara exchanged a nod, and Vanessa led the way to the back room. All seven women, including Sahara, filed out, leaving us standing there, wondering what was happening. We’d all gotten here early, and in just a half hour, the official party would begin—townspeople, friends, and relatives streaming through those doors to celebrate Sahara’s big night.
But as each woman returned, I remembered their last girls’ night at our cabin. Seven easels had been involved. This was what they’d been doing. All seven women were holding gallery-framed photos. As I watched, a smile spread across my face. I knew what was coming.
Starting with Daisy, they each spun their frames around, one at a time. They revealed paintings of Axel, Ryder, Hayden, Dayton, Ryan, Enzo, and me. The paintings didn’t represent how we looked. They represented how the women we loved saw us. They weren’t perfect—although Sahara’s was the best, thanks to her years of training to hone her natural talent.
Yes, the paintings went beyond showing their love for us. They represented how the fourteen of us were a bonded family. We’d all come together around the same time, gotten married, and had kids. Although Sahara and I were later on that last part than the rest of our friends, it didn’t matter. All of us were all like aunts and uncles to each other’s children. We were the family we had when we couldn’t be near our blood relatives.
“Fuck, that’s cool,” Dayton said.
“Is that the type of painting your customers will learn to do?” Ryan asked.
Gennie laughed. “I’m not sure any of us learned to do this. Sahara walked us through it. I doubt I could repeat it.”
“Me either,” Eve said. “But I’m hanging this somewhere in our house.”
“We’ll be doing things I can walk my customers through,” Sahara said. “Mostly flowers. This was kind of complicated for a first time.”
“It was complicated for someone who took art in high school.” Larsen shook her head and looked down at her painting, which was one of the better ones. “Faces are hard.”
“Especially when it’s someone you know,” Summer said. “We had to get it as close to the picture as possible.”
Hers wasn’t an exact replica of Ryder, but I was pretty sure he didn’t mind. He looked happy—about the happiest I’d seenhim since his wedding day. And he was always pretty happy these days.
As the door opened, bringing an early arriver, the women set their paintings on the easels on the table. That would demonstrate the kind of artwork that could be done in a couple of hours while taking generous sips from a wine glass.
I watched Sahara as she headed to greet her guests. I had Larsen to thank, in part, for how perfect my life was today. If she hadn’t posted that clip of me chopping wood, Sahara would’ve never come to town, and I might have gone my entire life without knowing how happy I could be.
When you put your heart on the line, the rewards were so worth the risks. Life was for living, and what I’d been doing before wasn’t even close to living. I’d never forget that.
It was a joke between us. Occasionally, one of us would say “same” when the other said “I love you.” But tonight, it helped us communicate without everyone nearby hearing.
From there, chaos reigned. Our friends poured in, gaping in awe as they took in Seduction Summit’s newest event location. The group naturally separated, and I ended up with my crew—the guys I worked side by side with every day. They were my brothers. Some were my fellow soldiers. Some had served at different times, in different platoons, but we’d built our own base here.
Sahara led us all on a tour. It was a fairly small place, but there were long tables with an easel at each station, along with a section in the back where they’d prepare hors d’oeuvres and wine to serve everyone.
My wife would lead her customers through painting simple pieces of art. Flowers, mostly. She’d be getting some practice next week when the women in our group showed up for friends-and-family night. Enzo and I were joining them, but the rest of the guys had wiggled out of it.
“We have a surprise for the guys,” Sahara announced at the end of the tour.
All seven of them stood smiling at us. They were grouped in the area where Sahara would stand when she led sessions here.
Vanessa and Sahara exchanged a nod, and Vanessa led the way to the back room. All seven women, including Sahara, filed out, leaving us standing there, wondering what was happening. We’d all gotten here early, and in just a half hour, the official party would begin—townspeople, friends, and relatives streaming through those doors to celebrate Sahara’s big night.
But as each woman returned, I remembered their last girls’ night at our cabin. Seven easels had been involved. This was what they’d been doing. All seven women were holding gallery-framed photos. As I watched, a smile spread across my face. I knew what was coming.
Starting with Daisy, they each spun their frames around, one at a time. They revealed paintings of Axel, Ryder, Hayden, Dayton, Ryan, Enzo, and me. The paintings didn’t represent how we looked. They represented how the women we loved saw us. They weren’t perfect—although Sahara’s was the best, thanks to her years of training to hone her natural talent.
Yes, the paintings went beyond showing their love for us. They represented how the fourteen of us were a bonded family. We’d all come together around the same time, gotten married, and had kids. Although Sahara and I were later on that last part than the rest of our friends, it didn’t matter. All of us were all like aunts and uncles to each other’s children. We were the family we had when we couldn’t be near our blood relatives.
“Fuck, that’s cool,” Dayton said.
“Is that the type of painting your customers will learn to do?” Ryan asked.
Gennie laughed. “I’m not sure any of us learned to do this. Sahara walked us through it. I doubt I could repeat it.”
“Me either,” Eve said. “But I’m hanging this somewhere in our house.”
“We’ll be doing things I can walk my customers through,” Sahara said. “Mostly flowers. This was kind of complicated for a first time.”
“It was complicated for someone who took art in high school.” Larsen shook her head and looked down at her painting, which was one of the better ones. “Faces are hard.”
“Especially when it’s someone you know,” Summer said. “We had to get it as close to the picture as possible.”
Hers wasn’t an exact replica of Ryder, but I was pretty sure he didn’t mind. He looked happy—about the happiest I’d seenhim since his wedding day. And he was always pretty happy these days.
As the door opened, bringing an early arriver, the women set their paintings on the easels on the table. That would demonstrate the kind of artwork that could be done in a couple of hours while taking generous sips from a wine glass.
I watched Sahara as she headed to greet her guests. I had Larsen to thank, in part, for how perfect my life was today. If she hadn’t posted that clip of me chopping wood, Sahara would’ve never come to town, and I might have gone my entire life without knowing how happy I could be.
When you put your heart on the line, the rewards were so worth the risks. Life was for living, and what I’d been doing before wasn’t even close to living. I’d never forget that.