Page 15 of The Woodcarver's Model
“Uh—the name’s Rob,” he said, offering his hand to this flawless specimen of masculinity whose eyes still bored straight through his own and deep into his soul.
“Mitch.” He smiled back, taking Rob’s hand in his. If Rob’s heart had fluttered at that young man’s attention on the ferry, it just about stopped with this one.
“So, what do you want to know?” he continued, finally releasing Rob’s hand.
“I’m here to write an article on Marsh Island for a magazine.”
“Cool.”
“You were recommended by the ferry operator.”
“Frances? God, does anything escape her?”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, private joke.”
“Do you mind if I get a few shots of you and your carvings while the light is still good?”
“Oh. Sure. Fire away.”
Rob worked with the camera. This guy was a perfect model. He could have been a professional. His facial expression varied from joyous smiles to steamy intensity.
“So, how long have you been living here?” Rob asked, taking another angle.
“About ten years now,” Mitch answered, slightly adjusting his pose.
“Did you carve before coming here?”
“It’s what I studied in school—Emily Carr in Vancouver.”
What do they put in the water at that school?Rob thought.I’ve gotta write a story about that place.
“But there my medium was marble, not wood,” Mitch continued.
“So, I guess you know all of the sights on the island? The ones that would interest a visitor?”
That beautiful smile intensified. “I know pretty well every nook and crannyintimately.”
Is this guy flirting? With me? Please let this guy be flirting with me…
“There’s not an inch of this island I haven’t explored,” Mitch said.
“Well, it looks like I’ve found my man—if you’re willing and available, that is.”
“Ready, willing and able,” he said. “But I don’t come cheap.”
“Of…of course not,” Rob stuttered, for some reason with embarrassment.
“Dinner’ll be on you.”
“My pleasure.”
Rob was just wrapping up shooting as dark rain clouds began to form and the shoppers gave up watching from the sidelines. If he never took another picture in his life, he would still have these.
It was then that Mitch asked, “You don’t remember me, do you?”
Confused, Rob said, “What?”
