Page 5 of Hard as Wood

“Clara, seeing you on your knees like this is too much, too early.”

I look up. His eyes are clenched, and I chuckle, pushing back up to my feet. “I don’t mind getting on my knees for you early in the morning.”

He holds my shoulders, pushing me back a smidge. “Yes, but you need to eat first. I can’t have you withering away on me.”

My stomach grumbles on cue. I sigh. “Okay, fine. Real food first.” I move around him, glancing at the two unbroken eggs on the unlit stove top. “Um, do you need help?”

His cheeks blush, and he drops his eyes to his feet. “It seems cooking is one of the many things I don’t know how to do.”

I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling his cheek to my lips. “It’s okay. It’s only your first day. Besides, there’s one thing I know that you’re excellent at,” I whisper into his ear.

He moans, digging his fingertips into my backside.

I pull back before my desire washes over me, preventing any other tasks from happening today. I pat his chest. “Let’s go into town. We can get you new pants and pick up something to eat. You’ve never eaten food before. I think your first time should be something amazing.” I can’t help but think how I want my first time—not eating, but something that will bring me even more pleasure—to be amazing too. I want it to be with Pineo, but don’t want to rush. I want us to both be rested, full and ready to exert as much energy as it takes until we're sated, and judging by the need rushing through my body, it will take a while.

Pineo nods with a smile. “Is it okay to go out like this?” He looks down at the hole in his pants.

I tap my lip, glancing around the kitchen. He’s already a giant wooden man. He doesn’t need even more attention on him. Although, he will be with me—the invisible girl. Maybe our effects will cancel each other out. A heart-stitched apron hanging on the wall near a cabinet catches my eye. “Here we go.” I tie the fabric around his waist, stepping back to take a look at my handiwork.

He gives a twirl, and I giggle. “Well?” he asks.

“It will do.” I kiss him on the cheek and lead him toward the door.

***

I was wrong. I thought being constantly ignored and bumped into was the worst fate. Being perceived? So much worse. As Pineo and I walk hand in hand through the town square, my cheeks burn bright, and my skin crawls on the back of my neck. Every eye is on us. Mouths wide and whispering once they take in Pineo’s wooden form. It doesn’t help that he’s so tall and handsome. Even if he was a normal man, I figure people would notice him, but now it’s like he’s a walking spectacle.

We were able to dip into the garment shop and purchase him a pair of pants, although they didn’t have the right size, and his wooden ankles stick out. Now as we try to weave through the masses to the cinnamon roll stand, I fear we won’t make it. Men andespeciallywomen stop us every few steps. They ask questions, smile brightly at him, and even touch his arms to feel if he’s real.

I’ve never been a jealous person. There was so much I didn’t have that if I was, it would drive me crazy. But now I know the true meaning of the word. As I watch abeautiful, busty blonde rub up against Pineo as she comments on how strong he seems, I can’t take it. To Pineo’s credit, he can’t take his eyes off me. He never looks at the person speaking to him. He just searches me as my cheeks heat and I panic.

I pull away from the crowd, bustling off the cobblestone road and toward the woods. My heartbeat pounds in my ears, and I steady my breath, letting the quietness of the forest wash over me. It’s not until I hear Pineo calling my name and stomping after me that I realize I left him in a place totally unfamiliar to him. It’s a shitty thing to do. It’s not his fault everyone is drooling over him. I can’t help my broken heart, though. Watching him come after me, women trailing behind him, my heart chips. People will never leave us alone. Will Pineo really want me when he realizes how many other options he has? I was foolish to think this was the start of my happily ever after. This is just a dream I’m about to wake up from.

Chapter four

Pineo

I’m out of breath when we close and lock Clara’s cottage door behind us. I rest against the wooden wall. The chatter from the townsfolk dampens, but there’s no mistaking that they’re still outside. “Is it always like that when you go into town?” I say, out of breath.

“No,” she spats, walking away from me and charging toward the kitchen. I can’t see her face, but I’ve studied her all my life. I know she’s upset. “What is wrong?” I ask, trailing after her.

She averts her eyes from me, opens a cabinet, and sticks her head in, pretending to rummage around for something. “Nothing is wrong. I’m just hungry.”

Someone knocks, and I whip around to the people crowding the window, cupping their eyes to peer in at us. I rush to draw the blinds. “Maker, these people are wild!” I lean against the green fabric, my hand over my beating heart. Clara never returned home with a crowd like this. I look different, but I wouldn't have imagined so many people would be interested in me.

Clara whimpers, and I abandon my post and rush toward her. She darts from the cabinet before I reach her, and rushes down the hall toward her bedroom.

“Clara, where are you going?”

She shuts the door behind her but calls out to me, “I’m just tired from the day. I think I need to take a nap.”

I jingle the doorknob. It’s locked. “Can I take a nap with you?” I sound like a child.

“No, I just need to be alone.” She tries to hide her whimpers, but it’s obvious that she’s crying. What can I do? Should I break the door down and demand she tell me what’s wrong? That doesn’t seem like something she’d like. She’s always lived a calm and quiet life—without loud proclamations or confrontations. Maybe the crowd of people are too much for her.

My wooden heart races as my mind whirls with possibilities. Maybe my appearance embarrassed her in front of her peers. People seemed to like me and wanted to know aboutme, but maybe they weren’t sincere. Perhaps she doesn’t like the attention I’m bringing, and she’s realizing there is no chance of a life with me.

A sob from Clara’s room tugs at my chest. I can’t bear to be the cause of her pain. All those lonely nights when she mourned for her father or begged the stars to end her loneliness, I wished I could soothe her. But now, here I am, capable of wrapping my arms around her and whispering soothing words, and I’m only rubbing dirt into her wounds. I’m the cause of her pain. Maybe she would be better off without me.

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