He stood another log on its end and sized it up, walking around it and cataloging the grooves. Turning, he rolled his shoulders, the move forcing my attention to the rippling muscles in his back. And… were those suspenders? No. No way. Jesus, take the wheel. Never in my life would I have considered suspenders sexy. But holy shit, the combination of tight white T-shirt, jeans, and suspenders was rewiring my brain. He picked up a small metal wedge and stuck it into one of the grooves of the wood. Then he stood back and picked up his axe. When, with one swing, he spit the massive log in half, my
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