Page 9 of Wood Lessons
“Glad to see you made it okay on the second try.”I quip as I reluctantly drop my hold, and we start walking towards the workshop beside my cabin.
“Well, the directions are burned in my memory after the last debacle.”Amusement twinkles in her eyes.“Though, those ducks were pretty cute.”
“Hmm, I know someone else who fits that description.”
Cheesy, fucker....Don’t care.
CHAPTER FIVE
ANNA
The remark warms me, no matter how corny.It eases my anxiety to know his flirting is on par with mine—almost nonexistent.But the sweet attempt is appreciated.
Sawdust floats in the weak sunlight as we step inside the detached garage for my first lesson.The dust tickles my nose, though the scent of freshly-cut wood is comforting.
“It’s not much compared to Cora and Chris’s barn, but it works for my side projects,” Peter explains as he waves an encompassing hand towards the arrangement of tools and tables.One large rectangular table dominates the center of the garage with a table saw resting at one end; counters of various hand tools and projects line the walls.
“Do you make a lot of those?And sell them?”I ask, curious since his cabin is already outfitted with handmade pieces of furniture.
“Sometimes.When someone approaches me for a personal project and time allows me to work on them.”He shrugs, making the plaid tighten around his broad shoulders.“But I don’t really seek it out; it’s not like I have a website or anything.It’s all word of mouth through my work with CC Designs.”
“It’s impressive, however you get business.Means people really admire your work.Are you thinking of going solo?”My hand traces the smooth edges of an unfinished chair propped to the right of me.Intricate lines wrap around the legs, probably taking long hours to create such a detailed design.And it occurs to me that he’s as much of an artist as I am—just in a different field.
“Not particularly.I’d actually prefer becoming partners with Chris and Cora.”
“What do they think of that plan?”
A rueful chuckle echoes in the garage.“Not sure.I haven’t asked them yet.Still a little hesitant about making the leap.”
His reluctance baffles me, though I relate to his fear.Peter’s clearly talented; I wouldn’t assume he’d be afraid to approach them.“I felt the same way before moving here.I felt it so much that I put off making a final decision for more than a year—overthinking every little detail until it became too much.Either I choose to stay in my rut or take the risk.”Smiling at him encouragingly, I walk over to place a gentle hand on his forearm, squeezing the firm muscle beneath.“I think it’s turned out alright so far, don’t you think?”
Peter cups my hand and brings it to his cheek before feathering a soft kiss over the palm.I blush at the tender gesture and remember our kiss the other day—thoughts of other types of risk running through my head.
“Yeah, I do.”His deep voice steals over my nerves, heightening my awareness of him until he loosens his grip, and we continue our survey of the shop.“Why do you say you were in a rut back then?What was happening?”
“Nothing.”I laugh bitterly as sad memories flood me with loneliness.“I worked.I came home.Repeat.Similar to what you mentioned the other day, actually.It was a small town without much of a social scene—not that it would’ve helped me much.Generally, I’m a fairly shy person, more introverted, which makes it difficult to make friends.”
