"You just—" I gesture at the block, then at him, then at the block again. "You made that look like nothing."
"It's not hard."
"It looks hard. It looks very hard."
He picks up the two halves and tosses them onto the pile like they weigh nothing. "You done?"
"Can you do another one?"
"No."
"Please?"
"You said one log."
"I know, but—"
"Go home, Jade."
There's no anger in his voice. Just finality. Like he's closing a door. I should be annoyed. I should push back. But instead I just smile.
"Okay," I say. "I'm going."
I head back toward my car, Ridge following me halfway before circling back to Eli. I open the door, then turn around. He's still standing there, axe in hand, watching me. Still shirtless. Still glistening.
I'm never going to forget this image. It's burned into my brain forever.
"Enjoy the lasagna," I call.
He doesn't answer. Just nods once.
I slide into the driver's seat, start the engine, and I'm pulling out of the driveway when the first drops hit my windshield.
Then it's not drops. It's a deluge.
The sky opens up like someone flipped a switch, and suddenly I can barely see three feet in front of me. The rain is coming down so hard it's bouncing off the hood, and the dirt road is already turning into a slick, muddy mess.
I slow to a crawl, my windshield wipers working overtime and accomplishing nothing.
This is bad.
This is very bad.
I hear the truck before I see it. Eli's truck, pulling up beside me. He's wearing a shirt now, thank God, and he's gesturing for me to roll down my window.
I crack it open and rain immediately starts pouring in.
"You can't drive in this," he shouts over the sound of the downpour.
"I'm fine!"
"You're going to slide off the road."
"I'll go slow!"
He looks at me like I'm an idiot. "Turn around. Come back."
"I don't want to—"