Avalon appeared to be waiting for them by the gate. But she wasn’t looking toward them.
A few seconds later it became clear she was watching whoever was wielding the ax.
So Eden looked in the direction, too.
And then all at once her head sort of floated over her body.
Her senses flooded as though she’d inhaled a particularly beautiful drug. She couldn’t quite feel her limbs. Other parts of her, however, were on red alert.
“Mom, that’s Mr. Caldera! Without his shirt!” Annelise added.
When Eden didn’t say anything.
No shit, kid.
Improbably, like something out of a dream, Gabe Caldera was shirtless and swinging an ax against a stump of wood. Levering it up in the air, hurtling it down, in a steady, primal rhythm that was so fundamentally, unexpectedly hot Eden’s lungs finally seized.
Muscles shifted and slid beneath glossy, bronzed skin as the ax came up.
Then down again.
It was hands down the most mesmerizing thing she’d ever witnessed.
She went as motionless as a hunter in a blind.
She only hoped she literally wasn’t slack jawed.
“I honestly didn’t know this would be happening,” Avalon said on an apologetic hush, as if this was a trauma only the strong of constitution could endure. “Do you need smelling salts?”
“Smelling salts?” Eden repeated. Or thought she did. Unbeknownst to her, what she’d really said was something like “Mahumuh?”
Avalon stared at her.
WHAM! Down came the ax again.
He swung it up overhead again. Muscles slid and shimmered in slow-motion elegance. Hands down the most beautiful machine she’d ever seen.
WHAM! Down it came again. The three of them, Eden and Avalon and Annelise, gave a little jump. Chips flew; the trunk cleaved halfway.
And up it rose again.
“It’s like porn, isn’t it?” Avalon whispered into her ear. “Or like one of those Zen sand gardens. But an erotic kind.”
“Mom, can I have an ax?” Annelise asked.
“Sure, after dinner, maybe,” Eden said absently.
“Cool,” Annelise beamed.
The ax came up again; muscles rippled and shimmered beneath that hard, glistening satin surface.
BAM, down it came again.
Avalon murmured right next to her ear, “Bet you’d like him to splityouin two.”
Eden’s head whipped around. “AVALON. HARWOOD.”
Avalon’s face had gone a sort of fuchsia shade with the effort to keep from laughing. But she was playing a risky game. Annelise’s ears were a little too sharp, and she was fond enough of drama to ask, “What does it mean when someone wants to split you in two?” in the middle of company.