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I wish I could get a different kind of present tonight…
I glanced down at his crotch beneath his jeans.
A different kind of wood, you might say…
“Alright, let’s go,” he said as he carried the canvas sling on his back and the ax and hatchet in his free hand.
“Yes sir,” I said with a smirk. I followed behind him so I could watch his ass in those tight jeans. It was all I could do not to reach out and grab it.
40
Massimo
By the time I brought the wood inside, twilight was turning into complete darkness. The combination of the sun setting and the thick forest all around us made everything much darker, much earlier.
I arranged some logs in the fireplace atop the kindling and some scrap paper I’d found in the kitchen. Then I used the lighter I’d brought from my cabin. Within seconds, tiny flames began licking at the bigger pieces of wood. Within minutes, we had a crackling fire and a new source of light.
“What do you want for dinner?” I asked Lucia.
She looked through our collection and handed over a can of soup.
“Okay, hold on,” I said as I walked over to the kitchen.
“What are you doing?”
“Looking for something to heat the soup up.”
“I thought the power was off.”
“We have a new source of power,” I said as I pointed at the fire.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“It’s not a problem.”
I found a cast iron skillet in the kitchen. Using a pile of rocks from outside to prop it up over the flames, I heated up the soup. Then I grabbed the skillet handle with a towel and poured the contents into a bowl.
“Mmm… not gonna lie, it tastes a lot better hot,” she said as she ate. Then she frowned as I opened a can of green beans and speared some with a fork. “Aren’t you going to warm yours up?”
“No, I’m good.”
“But – ”
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”
After I went through a few more cans of food, I put three more logs on the fire. Then I searched the kitchen and found a bottle of brandy. Not great stuff, but not awful, either. I would’ve preferred scotch or wine, but at least it was something.
“You want some?” I asked.
“Sure, why not.”
I poured us each a small glass and carried them over to the fire. I gave one to Lucia, then stretched out on the floor in front of the fire.
“Bleh,” Lucia said as she took a sip.
“You can always pour it out.”
“No, it’s fine,” she said, and guarded her glass like it was a gold coin I wanted to steal.
