Grunt. Crack! Someone was chopping wood. On a hot summer day like this, someone needed firewood? “Hello?” I called again, and then stopped when I came around the corner of the A-frame and saw the man standing with his back to me. He leaned his ax against a giant woodpile and then, as I kept watching, he casually stripped off his shirt.
Ok. Oh, sugar. He was a big guy, as large as my dad in his prime, and from behind, he was just…perfect. Beads of crystal sweat dripped slowly down his body and he stretched his arms over his head, flexing the muscles in his tan back and shoulders, his chiseled arms. I watched him roll his neck and reach for the ax again.
“Hello? Uh, are you Teddy Hayes?”
He turned, startled. “Who are you?”
“I’m with the Woodsmen. Are you Teddy Hayes? The Junior Woodsmen quarterback?”
“Why?”
He hadn’t put his shirt back on, and now that he was facing me, it was extremely distracting because his front was as beautiful as his back. He had that V thing, where the cut of his muscles ran down past his hipbones and pointed to the area below the waist of his shorts. And he also had the abs thing, where the six-pack looked like it was chiseled out of stone. And the arms and chest thing, where his golden tan displayed every single line of muscle. And when I ripped my eyes off his body and looked up, I was equally thrown. He wasn’t just good looking, he was gorgeous. He had a beard like a mountain man, yes. But he also had hazel eyes under his dark brows, angular cheekbones that defined his face, lips that—
Lips that spoke to me. “What are you doing here?” he asked.
I jumped. “Did you see the game today? The Woodsmen game?”
He shook his head. “The power’s out, again. My phone died. Why?”
I had been right, to some extent, about his pioneer lifestyle! But enough about that, because this was my moment, the moment that I would say the words that would change his life. I took a breath so my voice wouldn’t shake. “Davis Blake got injured today in the first quarter of the first preseason game and we don’t know how long he’ll be out. I’m from the Woodsmen front office and they asked me to come get you. They want you to sign with the team to be the backup quarterback.”
He didn’t answer. I stood there waiting, but he didn’t say a word, so I tried again, upping the drama: “The fifteen-time League Champion Woodsmen would like invite you to be their reserve quarterback. You’re moving up to the pros.” I waited for his reaction: the joyful surprise, maybe tears, maybe even passing out. I tried to remember how to revive an unconscious person and thought I might have to do mouth to mouth. I stared at his lips again, caught by the vivid vision which had popped into my mind.
“The Woodsmen,” he repeated, his voice flat. His expression really hadn’t altered either, and after my big announcement, I had expected a little more…something. Anything!
“Are you familiar with the team?” I asked doubtfully. “You know, established in 1926? The Pride of the Peninsulas? Hank the Hunter and Nutty the Chipmunk mascots, Woodsmen Dame cheerleaders? Led by league MVP Davis Blake? Warren Wilde, the former quarterback with the highest winning percentage in United Football Confederation history?”
“I know who the Woodsmen are. They want me? Are you sure?” he asked suspiciously.
Oh, maybe I had just made a terrible mistake. “Wait, are you actually Teddy Hayes? You never answered when I asked you. Because if you are, then yes, the Woodsmen want you to come with me to the stadium to play for them. Like, now. But if you’re not, then…” I swallowed and looked at his ax. If he wasn’t, I wanted to get the heck out of the woods. “Who are you?”
“I’m Teddy Hayes,” he said. Suddenly, an enormous grin broke across his face. “I guess I’m the newest player on the Woodsmen.”
I nodded and found myself grinning back. “You are. Congratulations and welcome to the team.”
Teddy Hayes leaned his head back and let out a whoop that echoed through the quiet forest.
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