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We tapped our cups, and Alice wiped away a tear.
“That was so lovely.” She put her arm around Hazel’s tiny shoulders and gave her a squeeze.
The women were so comfortable with each other, and from this interaction alone, it was clear they were close. Alice was glamorous and curvy, even wearing a down jacket and work boots. And Hazel was petite, with the most gorgeous green eyes and sharp cheekbones.
I felt like a frumpy shrew in comparison. Minimally employed, faking a relationship with a man who could barely tolerate me, and rocking an unwashed ponytail to boot. Not my finest moment. It made me miss Liv fiercely.
But my sadness was interrupted by a very welcome sight. Each of the Gagnon men was holding a massive axe and lining up stumps to chop wood.
I tilted my head. Was I seeing this correctly?
“They do this a lot,” Hazel said. “Remy has to train, and his brothers like to push him to work harder.”
“This is training?” I asked as the guys stretched and trash-talked one another.
“It’s also an unofficial dick measuring competition,” Alice said. “Henri does it to keep up with his brothers, but also because I really—and I mean really—enjoy watching.”
“It’s a Gagnon thing.” This from Hazel. “I can’t fully understand. Adele sometimes joins too.”
I couldn’t look away.
Henri, the oldest and tallest, had a thick beard and an air of responsibility.
Remy was thinner, with the build of a pro athlete, all muscle and sinew and mischievous eyes.
And then there was Paz. The thickest and broadest of the brothers. With that neatly trimmed beard and impeccably styled hair, he was an unlikely lumberjack, but lined up next to his brothers like this, it all made sense.
He wasn’t just a slick suit or a smooth-talking man whore. He was part of this place and this tradition. He could fight it all he wanted, but he sure as hell looked the part right now.
I sipped my wine, excited about the wood chopping show to begin. But then my mind was completely blown.
One by one, they peeled off their shirts. Fleeces, T-shirts, flannels, all of it. Until they were lined up, shirtless and glaring at one another.
I gasped involuntarily, sloshing my wine and outing myself as the world’s biggest perv.
Alice giggled. “We should have warned you. But the look on your face is priceless.”
“They each have a stack of logs,” Hazel explained, “and the last person to finish chopping has to buy dinner at the Moose.”
“It’s really a battle for second place,” Alice said. “Remy usually wins, because he does this professionally, but once in a while he’s tired from a workout earlier in the day and Henri can eke out a win.”
I couldn’t stop staring. This was the last thing I imagined when he mentioned training with Remy.
“Pick your jaw up off the ground,” Hazel said dryly. “Paz might get ideas.”
“Right,” I uttered, my face already burning.
I’d wanted to see them in action and understand the dynamics of this family. But this far exceeded my expectations.
Those broad, muscular shoulders swinging a giant axe. Or maul, whatever the fuck it was. With all kinds of power and speed. His thick thighs contracting in his jeans. And my God, the ass on that man. He was definitely the bubble butt of the family, and I was not upset about it. I would have bet my life savings he could balance a tray of margaritas on that ass. Goddamn, he was hot. And strong.
He didn’t have the shredded abs that Remy did, but his chest? It was a man’s chest. Thick and broad and covered with a dusting of dark hair. Shit, was I into chest hair now?
“Look at Parker,” Alice said, nudging Hazel. “She can’t believe this is actually happening.”
Absentmindedly, because I was too transfixed on the display of raw masculinity in front of us, I accepted more wine from her as the three of us perched on the log bench.
“They do realize they’re being ridiculous, right?”
