This place was different. I’d never felt so content or at peace before. Not even in my own home.
Like the wind heard my thoughts, it wrapped around me, calming my emotions. The trees swayed as I listened to that distinctive bird with its two-note song. The whipped cream clouds scuttled across the sky, blocking the sun every now and then. There was something magical about this place. My eyes returned to Kane. Or maybe it was the company I kept.
When he bent one of the longer poles in a U shape, I straightened. Tilting my head, I stared at the chair I sat on, then the one he was making. It was the same design.
He was building a chair. Who did that?
It got me thinking, and I surveyed his property. The cabin, the shed, the cold cellar, everything held the same quality in craftsmanship. Even the damn bed in the house. The table? No, that looked like it came from a store, the dresser and wardrobe too, but everything else?
The next time he turned to me, I gestured to the cabin. “You made all of this by yourself, didn’t you?”
He nodded once.
An amazed breath huffed out of me. “You’re a regular Dick Proenneke. You know that, right?”
His eyebrows lifted in question.
“He was this American who lived by himself in Alaska and made all his own stuff, a log cabin, tools, everything. He recorded it for years. It was this show on PBS. Sabrina and I used to watch it. He was like, ‘Hey, I need a spoon.’ So then he’d carve himself a spoon out of wood. It was kind of mesmerizing. I think the show was calledAlone In The Wildernessor something like that. You remind me of him.”
He shook his head at me.
“Well, you’re hotter, but the principle is the same.”
A smile curled at the corner of his mouth as he turned away and concentrated on the project. It was only a while later that he stepped back, arms wide in a ta-da fashion when it was complete.
I clapped. “You could sell tickets.” I gestured to the forest beyond. “Everyone from miles around would come and watch you build stuff with your shirt off.”
He tipped his head at me, shook it, and brought the chair up the landing to set it beside mine.
On an exhale, he sat, slapping his knees in satisfaction of a job well done. The new wood squeaked under his weight.
I couldn’t help grinning at him. He was just so damn adorable. “I want to learn ASL.” The words popped out of my mouth before I could stop them. The idea had sprung up during one of our dreams. I now knew a few phrases just from sharing his mind while we slept, but I didn’t know enough to be fluent.
His eyebrows shot up into his hair line. His lips parted.
That look made my cheeks heat. “Will you teach me?”
From the intensity of his expression, I almost regretted asking, until his face softened, his eyes becoming warm, and he nodded once. The wind rustling the leaves on the trees echoed the twitchy feeling in my stomach.
Unable to bear his scrutiny any longer, I said, “All right, Dick, how sturdy do you think that chair is?”
His expression shifted into one of pure disgruntlement. Likeduh, of course it’s sturdy.
“You think so?”
He didn’t condescend to answer again.
“All right, but if it breaks, don’t blame me.”
His eyebrows pulled together in a frown as I stood and closed the gap between us. The frown disappeared a second after I straddled him. The chair squeaked under the added weight.
I only wore his flannel shirt and nothing else. His hands were under it in the next moment, cupping my ass, roving up my spine then back down again. Urgency overtook me when we kissed, then we were both fumbling for the fly of his jeans.
The chair didn’t break.
22
KANE
