Page 2 of Wood Lessons

PETER

“W hat was that about ?” Cora corners me before I start sawing through another plank.

“What?” I play dumb, knowing what she’s asking but unwilling to answer. Hell, a logical response escapes me because I don’t know why I offered to teach Anna. It’s not something I’ve done before. Usually, I don’t say much at all when clients come by. That’s Cora’s job.

But the moment I saw Anna step into the shop, she drew me in like a moth to flames, and instinctively, I’d pitched the idea.

“Come on; teaching her how to woodwork? Since when do we offer that service?” She crosses arms over her chest and waits for an explanation.

“It’s not like that; I’m not gonna charge her or anything.” I just want to spend time with her, but Cora doesn’t need that information.

“Oh, really?” Cora raises her eyebrows. “Do you have a crush, Peter?”

I ignore the ridiculous question, tightening my grip on the hand saw.

“You’re blushing! Oh my god, you do!” She pokes my side and laughs. “Good thing we don’t have a no fraternization policy.”

I scoff at her needling. “It’s just woodworking; chill out. You’re getting way ahead of yourself.”

“Mhmm...But you guys would be a cute couple—the curvy brunette with the tall carpenter. I can see it now.”

“Cora, you’re my boss, so you’ll understand when I say if you want this set finished on time, you need to leave me alone. Go bug your husband, instead.” With that, I shove safety glasses and protective ear muffs on and start the saw, drowning out any objections she may have.

The peace of building things with my hands and getting lost in the work calms my rapid heartbeat. It’s comforting living in the dulled world—the buzz of the saw cocooning me.

Always has, always will.

But it doesn’t prevent the loneliness waiting to creep in at night. Sometimes, it’s so strong I end up back in the garage working on projects until my eyes refuse to stay open any longer—a danger when dealing with sharp blades.

Carving and whittling used to be enough to stave off the unpleasant emotion, but lately they’ve lost their effectiveness. Having someone to share life with would help; too bad single women don’t frequent my house or the CC Designs studio that often.

Until today...

But it’s more than availability, I realize, shooting down the assumption that the attraction I feel would be the same for any woman who appeared. A few have visited out here—not many, but some—and I never had this reaction to any of them.

It’s all Anna.

A vulnerability in her eyes that beckons me, and a shyness I recognize in myself, making me curious to see if we could overcome it together. That’s a lot of pressure, man .

Wiping my sleeve across the sweat on my brow, I overlook the warning in my head and choose to focus on the possibility of Anna...and a future filled with love instead of emptiness.

***

M Y PHONE RINGS THREE days later as I amble back to the cabin after double-checking everything is set for Anna when she arrives this afternoon. Looking down, her name appears on the screen and my throat tightens. “Hey, Anna, what’s up?”

For a second, I wonder if she’s about to cancel our first lesson, fear making it difficult to swallow. We’ve texted to arrange this time, but it hasn’t gone past a professional tone—no matter the multitude of questions threatening to burst from me.

“Well, I think I might be lost. I’ve been up and down this road, my GPS says I’m here, but I don’t see anything.” Music lowers while the phrase “You have arrived at your destination” repeats in the background.

“Are you on Racine? Because the turn off for my drive is right after you round the curve over the creek.” Miles outside of town, winding roads are common around here, and it’s easy to miss hidden drives with the dense trees lining the area.

“Alright, I think I know what you’re talking about, let me—” The phone muffles her voice when I hear a scream, and the line goes dead.

“Anna? Anna!” Panic spikes in my blood at the sudden silence.

Accidents occur at that bend all the time due to people not slowing down when taking it, and worry slices through me that Anna could be hurt.

Racing to my truck, I barrel down the drive, kicking up a cloud of dust. Time slows like molasses despite my lead foot on the gas.

Please be okay...

Finally, I round the curve to see Anna’s car pulled off to the side; it doesn’t look like it’s dented from hitting a deer or anything which allows my grip on the steering wheel to loosen.

When I make a U-turn to park behind the vehicle, she comes into view, peering down at the creek from the top of a ditch.

“Thank God.” I exhale a ragged breath and hurry to check on her. “Are you alright?”

She jerks at the sound of my voice and slips in the slick grass with a yelp. Before I can reach her, she slides down into the muddy creek below.

“Fuck! Anna, are you okay?” I carefully make my way down until my pants and shoes are soaked from standing in a foot of water.

“Yeah, I’m fine; you scared me, though. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be out here.”

“Sorry,” I apologize, bending to provide stability as she tries to stand. “When I heard you scream on the phone I was worried something had happened, so I drove down here to check on you.”

Her drenched clothing clings to bountiful curves, giving me a delightful show of hills and valleys I long to touch—uncaring of the mud streaks marring the outfit.

Not the time.

Steering my gaze upwards, I ask, “What happened?”

Red spreads from her chest to her cheeks as she ducks her head. “Um...a family of ducks were crossing the road. I slammed on my brakes, so I wouldn’t hit them. That’s why I’m down here—watching them swim away.”

Damn, could she be more adorable?

“I’m glad they crossed safely, but we should get you clean. That mud will dry soon which won’t be a pleasant experience.”

Anna nods in agreement, and we trudge up the bank with me sticking close in case she loses balance. “Wait here, and I’ll grab something from my truck to protect your seat. Then you can just follow me.”

“I don’t want to inconvenience you.” She brushes a hand over cheek, leaving a smear of dirt. “I’ll go home, and we can reschedule for another time.”

“Nonsense. My home’s a few minutes away; that beats driving home in the state you’re in.”

And I don’t want you to go.

An irrational fear that she won’t return forms a knot in my stomach. I need her to stay, to be given a chance—prove I’m worth the trouble of coming out here.

My mind conjures one way to keep her interested: me scrubbing her naked body clean before fucking her against the shower wall.

Because an orgasm guarantees commitment? Get real, buddy.

“If you’re sure...” Her hesitant voice reminds me we’re nowhere near that stage yet; I still need to convince her to come home with me.

“I am. Trust me; it’s not a problem. Just hang on, and I’ll be right back.” Jogging to my truck, I snag a blanket kept in the cab for emergencies and present it with a flourish. “It’s not pretty, but it’ll do the job.”

A cautious smile tugs at her mouth, and I accept it as a good sign.

Anna takes the offering and spreads it over her front seat.

Once she’s settled, it’s not long before we merge onto the road towards my cabin, and soon I’m leading her to the master bathroom in my bedroom—skipping the usual house tour.

“Take your time.” I gesture to the large shower, tamping down the yearning to touch her. “I’ll lay out some clothes for you to change into when you’re finished.”

Uncertainty shines in her eyes. “Thank you, but are you sure you don’t want to go first?” Her hands wave at my muddy pant legs.

I’d rather we conserve water and shower together.

But the suggestion stalls on my tongue. “Positive. I’ll wipe down with a rag in the spare bathroom.

”Okay... I won’t be long.” Her shy smile makes me lightheaded with desire, my cock swelling behind the zipper of my jeans. Forcing a calm outward demeanor, I leave Anna alone to wash up, counting my steps in an attempt to have anything besides her soapy, naked body filling my thoughts.

After replacing my soiled jeans, my stomach growls, and food seems like a good option since lunchtime is nearing.

Plus, it’ll keep her here longer.

I don’t know what’s come over me, but it’s like every dormant caveman instinct I have is making itself known.

Seeing to her needs is my top priority, and they tick off one by one in my head.

First, get her clean. Then, feed her. And finally, fuck her until she’s so satisfied, she’ll never want to leave.

A rueful chuckle escapes at that last part because it’s not going to happen today.

Opening the fridge, cool air chills my skin.

Pulling out the ingredients for sandwiches, I hope Anna likes turkey.

Red tomato slices join a platter piled with lettuce leaves while I move on to cutting an avocado apart.

The soft pattering of feet notifies me of Anna’s arrival before I see her appear around the corner. Curling wet strands frame her face while crossed arms cause my tee to stretch over her abundant breasts—pushing them tight against the cotton.

“How are you feeling?” Swallowing hard, I center my attention on avoiding blood loss as I finish slicing the avocado.

“Better, thank you.” She moves closer and takes a seat at one of the barstools behind the island I’m working at. Looking around the combined space of my kitchen and living room, she continues, “You have a beautiful home. Did you make any of the pieces here?”

My chin lifts in pride at her praise. Good to know the years spent renovating and building my own furniture had paid off. “Yes, I built all of the woodwork: tables, bookshelves. For a while, it looked pretty bare in here.”

“That’s really impressive; I wish I had such a useful skill.” She sighs and leans her head on a propped fist. An aura of wistfulness radiates from her.

“Well, that’s what I’m going to help you with, right? And don’t be so hard on yourself; I’m sure you have a lot of talents.” I set a plate in front of her with the sandwich, avocado slices, and some chips I found in the cabinet.

“Thank you for doing this.” She motions to the food before taking a bite. A low hum of approval vibrates from her and straight to my groin. What I wouldn’t give to hear her make that sound with my cock down her throat.

Down, boy.

“I suppose I’m good at graphic design. But that doesn’t really translate to tangible, useful things, you know?

Printing a design and hanging it on a wall isn’t the same as building a table for people to gather around,” she explains as a glimmer of sadness enters her brown eyes.

The reasoning reveals insight into a piece of Anna.

My work helps build community while hers is a singular creation—at least in her mind.

“Great design brings people together, too. Groups gather around priceless art all the time. Don’t cut yourself short.” The corner of her mouth lifts up in a half-hearted smile as if she doesn’t believe me but appreciates the effort.

“You’ve got a point. And I am trying to get into more website design which benefits a lot of people.

It just doesn’t feel on the same level as your work, though there’s really no comparison.

” Her eyes glance upward in exasperation.

“Sorry, I’m rambling, and I doubt I’m making much sense. Ignore me.”

“No, I get it. You don’t need to apologize.” My determination to help her solidifies. I’d already planned on teaching her, but it was mostly a ruse to be near her. Now, I understand it means more to her than a random hobby.

After that, we eat in a contemplative silence until our plates are cleared—uncertain of what to do now.

“Well, I should probably get going...” She trails off, tucking an errant curl behind her ear. I circle the island unsure of my next move when she hops off the barstool and trips over the dragging hem of my oversized sweatpants. “Oh!”

Anna falls forward into my arms—exactly where I want her. Embarrassment is plain on her pink cheeks while her nails dig into my arms for balance. Seeing my opportunity, I bend down and press my mouth to hers.

Soft lips part in astonishment, and I surge deeper—tongue sweeping across hers, sending a moan of pleasure through us both at the contact.

This is what I’ve been waiting for since the moment I saw her at Cora’s.

To touch and taste her. My hands cup Anna’s round hips and urge her closer, heat burning through our layers of clothes.

Fuck, she’s sweet, and I’m hers: hook, line, and sinker .