Thawck! Thawck!

Adam set a a big log of wood on a large tree stump, and with an unerring downward stroke of his axe, he bifurcated the limb. Grabbing the pair, he tossed them onto a small growing pile.

Eva watched in absolute fascination as he worked. “Can I do that too?” She asked him, feeling an urge to test her strength.

He picked another log and placed it on the stump, then stopped to look at her.

“You? Chopping wood?” He all but chuckled, teasing her. “Sorry, Sweetheart. This isn't for you.”

“Try me.” She squared her shoulders daringly and took the axe from him before he could protest.

Pushing him aside, she stood in front of the log. She raised the axe up, and focusing with all her strength swung it downward.

She only managed to bury the end of the blade in the log, but jolts of pain shot through her arms, making her withdraw instantly.

“Touché.” She said, wincing as she stepped back. “You were so right. Certainly not for me.”

Adam chuckled, the sound vibrating with warmth. When he pulled the axe, he divided the log in an effortless swing that simply made her jealous.

After he'd chopped enough wood to sustain them for the two nights they had remaining in the cabin, they headed inside with him carrying about four fifth of the chunks, much to her annoyance.

Once inside, Adam peeled off his jacket and the no button shirt he wore underneath, leaving his breathtakingly wide shoulders bare, and then set to work kindling a fire in the hearth.

Eva took off her own jacket but she didn't feel warm enough to pull off her top. She slumped into the couch.

“So what do you actually do?” He suddenly asked, voice curious as he stroked the flame. “I mean apart from writing, I know you work in your family's textile business but what do you actually do there?”

She pulled strands of some wayward hair away from her face. “I'm part of the creative minds. I make some of the designs. Don't you dare make a snarkastic comment.” She pointed a warning finger even though he couldn't see it.

“Ah, your trust in my innocent tendencies is very refreshing.” He laughed softly, giving her a sidelong glance. “Seriously, the only thing I know about designing has to do with photography, but I'm sure you make an excellent designer.”

“Wow, you're too full of compliments tonight, aren't you? Let's just hope you keep them coming for the remaining two days.”

After the fiasco at the climbing gym, they'd both pretended like it'd never happened. They'd gone on a winter wildlife tour and they'd gone snowmobiling through the Yellowstone National Park, taking in nature in all of its breathtaking grandeur.

After that they'd gone back to the skiing site and he'd taught her the basics of skiing again. Thankfully, she didn't sprain her ankle this time, and they were planning to go back for a full lesson tomorrow.

Through it all, the photographer in Adam hadn't been able to put the camera away.

After their day in the wild, they'd gone to a restaurant to have dinner and then returned to the cabin for a heated fuck on the dining table.

Adam shrugged and stood up after placing the shield on the hearth.

“Hey, you haven't had an exhibition in like two years.” She said, finally remembering something that'd skipped her mind every time she thought of asking him. “Why is that?”

He slumped beside her. “I'd been doing exhibitions for five years nonstop. Just needed a break.”

He shrugged. “Not force myself to continuing taking pictures without much inspiration just because of demand.”

“Can I see those?” She asked, suddenly curious about what Adam Garcia would consider his bad works.

He stood up from the couch and walked over to the duffel bag containing his photography implements which he'd set aside in a corner.

After some seconds, he carried it back to the couch and set it in front of him. Rummaging through it, he brought out a photo album and handed it over to her. Eva begun flipping through instantly.

The album was filled with stunning in-the-spur of the moment pictures that were breathtaking and caught your eyes immediately, a few of him and other people, the rest of gorgeous landscapes and wilderness.

She looked at him, widening her eyes. “You took these when you were least inspired? That's totally insane. I mean, this would sell like hell.”

The corner of his mouth tipped in a smile. “My friends think so too. And I just might, especially now that I've felt truly inspired after a long time.”

He was staring at her directly, and she had to swallow. “Why now?”

Instead of answering, he asked, “Would you like your photos to be featured in my next exhibition?”

Her breath caught in her throat. He wanted her to be part of his exhibition, the definition of keeping souvenirs of their time together.

Which could mean two things; either their fling meant more to him than he was letting on, or it meant absolutely nothing.

The possibility of the last option being the case had her smiling against an inexplicable ping in her chest. “Let me see the pictures first.”

He took his camera from the mahogany centrepiece and clicked a few buttons before handling it over to her. From the title bar, she could see he'd opened a folder named Eva.

As she scanned through, she realized that like the photos in the album, all her pictures were taken candidly or when she'd been caught off guard. No stiff poses or for-the-camera smiles.

There were two from the day they'd gone horseback riding when she'd been bouncing on the horse exhilaratingly.

Then there were about five from when they'd gone ziplining, one where she'd been screaming from the excitement and adrenaline tearing through her veins.

Three from their time at the heli-skiing site, two of when she'd been walking the canopy bridge, and a couple during their snowmobiling adventure.

It suddenly struck her that in all the moments the pictures were taken, she'd been happy. More happy than a man had made her feel since her father. And she suddenly realized that a photograph could reveal so many things.

“Yes. I'd love for my pictures to be featured in your next exhibition.”

Normally she wouldn't have given in to putting herself so much out there, but the man had so much talent she was stunned.

“Great then.” He stood up. “Gonna get you the coffee you need, sweet-toothed woman who wants to eat an ice cream in this cold.”

“Who said you can't eat ice creams during winter?” She shot after him as he headed to the kitchen, unable to fight a smile.

Wanting to look at more of his works, she splayed his duffel bag wider and noticed a portfolio. Taking it out she placed it on her laps and opened it. Two by four photos were arranged strategically and tucked in the corner.

She took the pile of pictures and begun to sort through. The first was of Adam looking amazed as he seemingly looked into the sky, his face displaying so much happiness.

The second was of a guy trying hard to smile as he looked at a couple he was standing beside. It didn't take a genius to figure out he was inlove with one of the spouses.

As she looked through more photos, she realized that none of the people in them were aware their picture was being taken.

Hearing Adam's footsteps, she looked up as he emerged with two cups of coffee.

“Are the people in the pictures clients?”

Adam tensed when he realized she'd found the portfolio that encased the evidences of his secret habit, a part of himself no one knew about, not even his best friends.

He quickly slipped on a neutral mask, hoping his shock hadn't shown for too long as he headed for the couch.

“Here.” He handed her a cup and sat beside her.

She took the cup, but her gaze regarded him expectantly. Adam realized he had no choice than to tell her.

“No. These pictures were taken candidly, and I don't know most of the people."

Her brow crinkled as if she couldn't understand why he would take pictures of strangers, and he explained.

“People have always fascinated me. When they're unaware their pictures are being taken, the pictures reveal so much depth since they would be having their full emotions on display.”

She didn't have to know that as a teenager, taking candid shots of people had been his way of escaping the shit at home with his father. His way of wondering about other peoples lives.

“Oh, so who're the people here?” She showed him a picture of the guy watching with a no-teeth smile as a couple kissed.

“This was actually taken here in Jackson Hole. I was at the townsquare. The couple were going on a date and they were forcing their friend to be the third wheel. Obviously not only did he hate being the third wheel, he also wanted the girl. His smiles were all forced, and I could see he felt guilty about not being happy for his friend. Lucky for me I had my photo lens with me.”

He'd learned that anything could be a photo opportunity at any time and so he took his camera out with him often.

“Tough.” She remarked and fished out another photo from the pile. “The woman and the girl?”

“I was going to buy some stuff at the grocery store and found a mother and her daughter window shopping along a boutique. The girl spotted a dress and wanted her mother to buy it for her. As you can see, mother is trying to convince her she's low on cash but daughter is having none of it and is throwing a tantrum.”

“The mum has that I wish your father was here look on her face.” Eva said reminiscently, a smile touching her lips. “My mum used to give me that whenever I was heading towards the rebellion line.” She chuckled with amusement.

Blood surging, Adam watched her sort through more pictures, wishing his mother had loved him enough to have stayed or at least taken him with her when she was leaving, instead of rejecting him and never coming back to look for him like he wasn't worth shit.

Eva brought out more photos and he continued to tell her the stories he saw in them whike they drank their coffee. On some occasions, she offered her own observations, which usually mirrored his.

When she pulled out a picture of a young man throwing his hand over the shoulder of his father who was smiling warmly at the camera, his breath caught.

Taking the picture from her, he rubbed the edge with his thumb, chest tightening. “That's my little bro and my father.”

“Wow, I know it runs in the family.”

“What?” He asked, meeting her enthralled look.

“The gorgeousness, of course.”

In a rare moment of candor he barely saw coming, he blurted out, “This was one of the cherishable moments when he wasn't being drunk or abusive.”

She lifted her eyes to meet his, and shock shown in her amber irises. “He was a bad father?”

“Of course not.” He snapped, more angrily than he'd intended, making her flinch. Realizing she wasn't to be blamed for her assumption, he sighed and looked away.

“He wasn't a bad father. Just..” He searched for a word. “...conflicted. Destroyed.”

He drank from his cup, wishing his father had been strong enough to snap out of his depression and alcoholism and hadn't allowed a woman to turn him into a pathetic excuse of a man. And all for what? Love?

If that was love, then Adam wanted nothing to do with it.

“What about this woman?” Eva spoke, making him realize she'd pulled out another photo.

He looked down at the photo of a woman sitting on a bench in a park with her face buried in her hands. His surly mood dissipated a bit as he recalled that day.

“Her husband tossed divorce papers at her right in the park. That wasn't even as cruel as when he told her she disgusted him and he'd found someone much younger and attractive than her.”

“In the park? Wow, what a heartless bastard.”

“Apparently he'd been wanting a divorce for a while, and it seemed this was his way of making her know he was extremely serious. After he'd left the woman sat on the bench and wept. I couldn't resist my itching fingers. She's the only person who caught me.”

“No.” She drawled on the word. “What did she do?”

“She went hysterical, threatened to call the police on me. I managed to get away from her screams, and we became friends the next week I came to the same park.”

“Wow, what a way to make a friend.” She chuckled.

“You people read books. I read pictures. Crazy right?”

“No I totally understand.”

She was staring at him, eyes bright with decernment, as if she had a direct link to the little boy he still felt inside, aching for the love and acceptance his mother had stripped him of. As if she could tear down his defences with that penetrating look.

It was all he could do not to bolt. Instead, he shoved his fingers into her hair and crashed his lips to hers, needing her in ways that were indefinable by the standards of a fling.

She didn't pull back or try to stop him as he shoved the portfolio away, sending the photographs flying. She groaned with equal want when he ripped off her top, and he revelled in her surrender, but at the same time, it made him yearn for so much more than her sexual responses.

A more he couldn't continue to yearn for so much. Not if he didn't want to turn out like his father.

Disconcerted. So crazed for a woman.

After they'd ripped off each other's clothes, Adam took her with fervor, needing to still all the chaotic emotions swirling inside him. Something only Eva managed to provoke.

When finally they both reached the peak, he collapsed beside her, sated and exhausted, perspiration coating his skin like hers, trying to catch his breath.

She nudged herself against him, making him flinch as he realized her intention. Normally, he would've pulled away. But today, he wrapped his arm around her, accepting every warmth her sleeping form had to offer.

He slept with the knowledge that once again, Eva West had caused him to break another one of his rules.