Page 14 of The Uncut Wood
His eyes flashed. “I just got a great idea for our next competition. Jackolympics but in heels!”
I laughed. “Be sure to tell Jim to trademark that before RuPaul gets a hold of it.”
We eventually slept.
Well, Gunner did.
I drifted in and out, wanting to cling to the conscious awareness of his body curved around mine. That was my real trophy.
In the gray light of morning, after a make-out session that ended with blow jobs, we made a horrific discovery—Bailey hadn’t packed any coffee. Only our shared addiction to caffeine could have convinced us to return to the lodge so soon.
As we were leaving, I looked back at the little cabin and was struck by something I could only call a premonition of future nostalgia.
The sky was clear, and the sun sent slanting shafts of golden light across the snow. It wouldn’t last the day. Our footprints from yesterday’s hike were already melting into little dark wells with wet pine needles at the bottom.
We walked back through the Uncut Wood in companionable silence, holding hands and from time to time grinning at each other.
When the common buildings of the campground came into view, I mentioned I couldn’t wait to take a shower.
Gunner cocked an eyebrow at me. “Can we take this one together?”
“I see no reason why we shouldn’t take all our showers together from now on.”
His smile turned mischievous. “I’m sure everybody at the bathhouse would enjoy that.”
I lifted my chin. “Let ’em.”
Men were milling about on the front porch of the lodge drinking coffee and waiting in line for breakfast. When they spotted us, there were whistles and cheers. Ever the crowd pleaser, Gunner lifted our hands overhead in a showy sign of victory.
Jim came running down the steps and stuck his phone camera in our faces again.
“What are you doing?” I whined.
“I’m shooting the finale video to this year’s Jackolympics. Honey, this shit is the Bear Camp social media equivalent of a jumbotron proposal. Give me this. You made us all wait long enough.”
After receiving claps on the back, high fives, and fist bumps, we worked our way into the line for coffee behind Sawyer, our boss. Bailey, who was starting a fresh pot, turned with his eyebrows raised in curiosity. He glanced down at our loosely clasped hands, and his face split into a big grin.
Thank you, I silently mouthed.
Albie and Kevin appeared, slow clapping with big shit-eating grins on their faces.
Sawyer turned to see who the others were looking at. “Glad you made it back,” he said with a scowl, always a grumpy bear before his morning caffeine. “There’s still a lot of wood that needs to be cut.”
“Looks like there’s a lot of uncut wood in their future,” muttered Albie.
Most of the men within earshot laughed, and Sawyer glared.
Gunner and I confirmed it with a kiss.
