Page 9 of Chiseled Mountain Man

“You have a deal,” I said when he said nothing about my “good pair” comment. “What’s your favorite dessert?”

“Apple pie with ice cream. I guess that’s called à la mode.”

A groan escaped at the mention of apple pie. I didn’t even realize the sound had come out until he frowned at me.

“That’s what lost me the competition,” I said. “We had to pick a bunch of ingredients from a stash in the corner. I was one of the few who managed to get some really good ingredients in the scramble. I was sure that was going to seal the deal for me. I make a kick-ass apple pie. Strawberry too. Have you ever had strawberry pie?”

Now I had his attention. “That sounds amazing.”

“I’ll definitely make that one for you sometime.”

Again, future planning. But he seemed okay with that. He wasn’t freaking out like guys had done on some of my friends when they mentioned anything beyond the immediate moment.

“Their loss,” he said.

It took me a second to realize he was talking about the competition. Funny, if I hadn’t met him, my loss would probably consume every single thought I was having right now. But I’d completely shoved it to the back of my mind almost as soon as I’d seen him again.

What did that say? It said the competition wasn’t really all that important in the grand scheme of things.

“Thank you,” I said. “I’m sure I’ll look back on all of this someday and realize it was for the best, but right now it hurts, you know?”

I was making myself vulnerable to this guy. I was opening up like I wouldn’t have even opened up to my closest friends. I didn’t like to be seen as weak. I wanted everyone to believe I had it all together.

But I didn’t want this conversation to be loaded down with negativity. In an effort to lighten the mood, I blurted, “You’ll have to carve something for me. Maybe you could make a wooden figure in my likeness. Do you ever do people?”

That was a stupid question, considering if I turned around, I’d be looking right at the figure of a little boy holding a towel. The detail was impressive.

“I don’t think I could capture your beauty in wood,” he said.

I nearly choked on the bite of creamy mashed potatoes I’d just taken. I took a drink of water to catch my breath and avoid making a fool of myself in front of this guy. Well, more of a fool of myself than I’d already made, that was.

“Thank you,” I finally said as I set my glass down. “I’ve never had anyone do anything like that. I can’t imagine it would be easy to do.”

“I could carve a figurine in an hour or so. It wouldn’t have much detail, but I could do a basic outline of you.”

An outline of me. Suddenly I was imagining him sculpting my body out of wood, taking extra pains on my breasts and hips. It would almost be like having him touch me.

I squirmed in my seat a little and was surprised to find I was wet. Just the thought of Sean carving a wood sculpture of me was turning me on.

Was that weird? I wasn’t sure.

“Would you carve my clothes too?” I asked.

He shook his head. Then he nonchalantly popped a bite of pork chop into his mouth, as though that head shake hadn’t sucked all the air out of my lungs.

“So would it be an outline of me naked?” I somehow managed to ask.

He nodded, then shrugged. My heart was pounding as I picked up my fork and knife, but my hands were shaking too. He was sure to see that. I did my best to slice off another small piece of meat as I waited for him to speak.

“I wouldn’t want to offend you,” he finally said.

“How would you know what I look like under all my clothes?”

I wanted more than anything to see how he pictured me naked. No man had ever seen me without my clothes on. Were men always imagining what I looked like underneath whatever I was wearing?

More importantly—was this man imagining that?

“I can use my imagination,” he said. “Not that I’m picturing you without your clothes on. Well…”

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