Autumn had just begun to gild the leaves and chill the streets, so the days were still warm. And if you were chopping wood—especially for the first time in your life—it could even feel downright hot. That’s why Alex, dressed in borrowed pants that were far too tight in all the wrong places (though that was a minor detail), and a tank top that was equally snug, was hard at work splitting logs for the grills. The shirt Lina had brought him was so tight across the shoulders that he could barely breathe, let alone work, so he’d ditched it altogether.
Shirtless, the “lumberjack” cut an even more striking figure: tall and imposing, with slightly overgrown hair tousled just right by the breeze, a rugged week’s worth of stubble, a full sleeve of tattoos on one arm, and muscles that rippled with every swing of the axe. He looked like he could star in an ad for some “ladies-only” product, the kind that would have women lining up at stores just to get a glimpse of him.
Margo and Lina weren’t lining up. As the owner and an employee of the establishment, this show was free for them. They’d been enjoying the view from the window for a good half-hour, supposedly admiring the golden autumn woods across the road. Or at least pretending to, while their eyes were actually glued to the precise, measured flex of the “lumberjack’s” toned muscles beneath his inked skin.
“He’s pretty easy on the eyes, huh?” Lina finally ventured.
“Who?” Margo asked, not tearing her gaze away from him.
“Oh, come on, who do you think?” Lina snorted. “As if you don’t know!”
“Oh! You mean him?” Margo snapped back to reality. “Yeah, he’s not bad.”
“Ever dated a drifter before?”
“Heaven forbid! I’m not into people with no purpose in life.”
“Maybe his purpose is freedom and independence,” Lina said dreamily, rolling her eyes.
“Freedom from hygiene and a roof over his head? Not exactly a lofty goal.”
“Oh, stop it! I’m just kidding! Though…”
“Go get back to work, comedian! We’ve got a banquet tonight. Is Moishe handling things in the kitchen?”
“Always cutting me off at the good part!”
“The best part we already saw in the shower,” Margo smirked, quickly turning away to hide the fiery blush that flooded her cheeks as the morning’s image flashed through her mind.
“But seriously…” Lina bit her lip, giving Margo a pointed look. “You’re not actually interested in him, are you?”
“Of course not! What’s going on in that head of yours, Lin? If you want him, he’s all yours! I’m heading to check on Moishe.”
Moishe, their head chef, lived at “Radiance” just like the girls, the waiter and handyman Vlad, and the security guard Uncle Yuri. The hotel and restaurant complex was located outside of town, making a daily commute impractical, but that wasn’t the only reason. They’d all grown so accustomed to “Radiance” and to each other that they considered it their home, and their small team a family. For many of them, this was the only family they had, and they cherished it for good reason.
In its heyday, “Radiance” had thrived. Its location wasn’t ideal, but it sat along a popular tourist route. Before the war, countless travelers, bikers, and sales reps who couldn’t make it to the city before dark would stop here, unwilling to risk the notoriously potholed roads at night.
Everything changed after the war, but the complex survived by hosting weddings, birthdays, and other private events for those who preferred to keep a low profile away from the city.
The key word, though, was “survived.” Margo was pouring more into the place than she was getting out of it, yet she clung to “Radiance” with everything she had, valuing the family business that, according to legend, started as a roadside inn a century ago.
“And what do my old eyes see? Oy-oy, while poor Moishe slaves away in the kitchen over meat as scrawny as a sophomore college kid, you’re out here admiring the scen… well, I’ll be!” He spotted the lumberjack. “Who’s this joker?”
“Our temporary handyman. Vlad’s sick, and someone’s gotta do the work,” Margo explained.
“Oy vey! Vlad, that shlemiel, always knows when to disappear! Well, call this walking anatomy model over to eat! Old Moishe won’t have time for it later.”
“On it!” Lina opened the window and took a deep breath to shout, but Margo stopped her.
“I’ll call him!” she declared, and before anyone could interfere, she hurried toward the door.
Up close, the view was even more captivating. The contours of the “lumberjack’s” muscles stood out in sharper relief, and he smelled faintly of her own shower gel, which he’d used earlier. He stood amid a pile of meticulously chopped logs, beads of sweat on his tattooed skin adding a strangely endearing, magnetic charm. Margo didn’t want to interrupt him, but she knew Moishe—and especially Lina—were watching her closely from the window. So, she put on her most indifferent expression and lightly touched the “lumberjack’s” shoulder.
Big mistake. The contact with his skin sent a jolt through her hand, igniting a rush of heat through her veins.
Just a simple touch!
Just one!
Margo yanked her hand back as if she’d been burned, but she couldn’t erase the startled look in her eyes before the stranger turned to face her, gracefully lowering the axe onto another log.
“Hey there!” he said, flashing a completely disarming smile.
“What’s your name?” Margo asked, quickly rebuilding her defensive mask.
“Alex… I mean, Sasha! Call me Sasha!” he replied earnestly, brushing his hair off his forehead in a way that made Margo itch to do it for him.
“Alright, finish up, Sasha, and come grab something to eat. Looks like you’ve done a decent job. Do you chop wood often?”
“First time in my life!” he admitted honestly, pulling on his shirt under Margo’s faintly disappointed gaze.
“I don’t believe you!”
“Take a look over here,” he said softly, gently taking her hand and pulling her a little closer. His grip was warm and firm, not controlling but guiding…
Under the large stump Sasha had been using as a chopping block, there lay a good dozen crooked logs—some splintered into useless chips, others halved so awkwardly that a single piece could take up an entire grill.