chapter 19

Abbie Standing on the porch, I tug Gannon’s jacket closer around me, feeling a chill despite the sun. The sound of the ax hitting wood punctuates the surrounding silence. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I step forward to see Gannon working, his back glistening with sweat under the effort, his shirt discarded somewhere out of sight. A huge pile of wood is already chopped, and I can’t help but let my eyes wander over his muscular body, noticing scars that mar his chest. I’ve never seen him like this, so focused, so… captivating. I lean over the porch rail, where curls of wood shavings lay strewn about like the aftermath of a silent storm. There appears to be a method to his movements—raise, swing, impact—a dance of strength and purpose that leaves his broad back shining with sweat. The sharp lines of muscle shift across his torso with every movement, drawing my gaze in a way that feels both invasive and admiring. Scars lace his skin, etched into the tanned flesh of his chest. A flus