But I do feel safe around him and I have from the very beginning when we met inside this very place. He’s a man of integrity and strength and courage. A man who seems to always do the right thing and follow his heart. He doesn’t prey on women. I know that deep inside. So even though I’m sure he’d never intend to hurt me, his passion might. Because despite the fire igniting inside my body, I’m not ready to fall in love again and put my heart on the line.
It just feels like it’s too soon.
His interest in me doesn’t scare me, but rather, that I can be so interested in him so soon after Dravon’s betrayal that I rush in headfirst and fall too hard and too fast. And I know better than to let my heart gallop ahead of my common sense. Knight Evermore doesn’t have rebound guy stamped anywhere on his muscled body.
He flicks a wrist toward the tables. “You’re not waiting tables tonight?”
“No. Len wanted to be out among the customers, so he asked me to stay behind the counter and fill the orders for him. They’re rowdy tonight, probably talking about the meeting.”
His eyes narrow. “Anyone giving you any grief?”
“You mean like the other night? Thank God, no. Jess just had a little too much to drink. He likes beer apparently and he got started early. It wasn’t that big of a deal.” My mind drifts back to his harsh hands traveling over my body and I suppress a shiver. Maybe it was a big deal. But I don’t want to get Knight all riled up again. I duck my head, so I don’t set off his lie detector.
“If you’ve never been a server before, I can see how it could be a little much.”
I wipe my hands on my apron. “It wouldn’t be my choice of jobs. But sadly, there wasn’t anything else available in Sweetheart Hills right now.” I pour another mug of coffee. “But I have to feed myself and pay my rent, so I took what I could get.”
“Seems like you have everything under control considering.”
“Piece of cake. I’m twenty-eight, you know.”
A smile plays at his lips. I guess I never asked him his age. Not that it matters. My friends come in all shapes and sizes and decades. “Oh, yeah?”
“I’m not some high schooler. I can handle Jess and anyone else who happens to come along and make himself inappropriate.”
Maybe even you.
I pour some heavy cream in the mug and stir per the order slip from Len, well aware that I’m heaping lie on top of lie. I’m creating a lie layer cake like the chocolate one we serve on Sundays for the after-church crowd. But this man insinuated that I couldn’t help myself. While I appreciate his intervention, I’m not some damsel in distress who needs her white knight to come charging in to save the day. I can save my own damn day.
“Is that so,” he says with a grunt.
“None of the men have really crossed the line. I just let it bounce right off me.”
“Hmm… that strikes me as strange. There aren’t many women around here if you haven’t noticed. And not one as gorgeous as you are.”
I almost choke as I put the mug on a tray and wait for Len to pick it up. “Are you kidding me? I’m as plain as plain can be and I’m usually too quick on my feet for anyone looking to put their mitts where they don’t belong.”
He scrubs a hand down his beard growth. I try to ignore how sexy the scruff looks on his face and how it would feel if I reached out and touched it. “Well, if you’re okay with handling these animals, I was wondering if you might want to help me handle the other ones? Any chance you’d like to swing by tomorrow and help me with a feeding? Blender’s still working great, by the way.”
The unexpected invitation surprises me and my answer stalls in the back of my throat. I’m flustered by the compliment and all my lying and his mere presence throwing me off kilter. I wipe my damp palms on my apron again, thinking that I might not even know my own name right now because of the effect he has on me.
“Sure. When were you thinking?” The words pop out before I can stop them and even though I want to shove them back in when I see his twinkling eyes, I can’t bring myself to do it.
“They usually eat lunch around noon. Do you want me to swing by and pick you up on my way?”
Him. In my house? I’m not sure that’s a good idea. There’s a bed there. And zero dusty condoms underneath the bathroom sink. He wouldn’t need a condom to lick you. As a new blush fires my cheeks, I push that thought away.
“Okay,” I say. I can’t seem to say anything rational that will stop this runaway train from rolling down the tracks.
Even though I only say one word, that doesn’t stop the slow, easy grin from splitting his face. And before I can change my mind, he leans down and brushes a kiss on the top of my head. “That might be my favorite yes I’ve ever received. Women usually don’t want to spend any time with me outside and with the animals. I’m glad you’re the unicorn in my world, Angel.”
With that, he slips away. I touch my head with shaky fingers, searing heat in the wake of the gentle brush of his lips. The sudden rush I always get when he’s near floods my body – memories of his heat and his scent and his touch rocketing through me and blasting through my wall of I dare you.
I let out a loud sigh. Like he has any issue with women. A sexy man like Knight can have any woman he wants. And they probably fall at his feet to spend time with him and unwrap his old condoms and fawn over whatever animal he’s taking care of at the time. His experience with women is more than obvious. I’m overreacting and it has to stop, or I’ll never survive my next outing with him and the kits.
Tomorrow.
Despite my racing heart and wobbly knees, I blame the foxes. They’re cute as hell. It’s not the man. Nope. Something about the kits makes me go all maternal. I only care about the kits.
And I keep lying to myself all through the rest of my shift.
Chapter Seven
Knight
I’m as plain as plain can be.
As I stand in the woods with Angelica, admiring her every curve, my mind drifts back to that ridiculous statement she made inside Cool Beans yesterday. I wonder again who told her that – who hurt her. And I want to take every single rude thing ever said to her and whisk it away, erasing it from her memory and replacing it with all the things I want her to know instead.
A coyote pack gathers around us, and Angelica looks like she might throw up, but I assure her she’s safe. The coyotes know me, and they realize that I’m not a danger to them.
“God, I thought maybe critters with long, sharp fangs wouldn’t be around today. Can’t they go hunt a rabbit or something? Or take a nap in the sun?”
I chuckle. “They wouldn’t likely be hunting or napping at this time of the day. And not with us around the kits’ den. They can pick up a human scent miles away. They’ve been tracking us ever since we left the truck, but just haven’t decided to say hello until now. Since they already know me and I’m yesterday’s news, I’m guessing they’d like to officially meet you.”
She swallows. We’re still yards from the fox hole. She glances at the surroundings – the white birch trees, the grove of fat spruce and firs, the snowy ridge with the sun dancing off it. Just like the last time I brought her here, shadows line the ridge above us.
The leader of the pack stands poised and alert, assuming the position of strength over the others, his knowing eyes focused on Angelica. The other members of the pack flank him, but they’re being kind of obnoxious with fangs bared and growls low in their furry throats. One paws the ground as if he’s about to launch an attack.
Angelica swallows again, the elegant column of her throat moving. “Um… it doesn’t look like they’re open to that. Seems they’ll always like you best.”
“I brought along some treats you could give them as a show of friendship.”
“What kind of treats?” she asks.
“Bones. And you’re not afraid of them now, are you?”
“Who me?” she asks with a little shiver.
I want to envelop her in my arms and caress the
fear away, but I also know that fear has to be faced for it to truly dissipate.
“The dark gray one I call Mindy,” I say casually, hoping my calm demeaner will rub off on her. “She’s funny and sassy and she reminds me of Mindy Kaling. All the boys love her. They bring her treats and their freshest kill. She’s got them believing she’s the prettiest girl in Northern Minnesota and they all fall at her feet to worship her.”
Kind of like I’d like to worship you.
If you let me.
Touch you.
Taste you.
Sink so deep inside you I forget my own name until you scream it.
It’s almost like I can taste her feminine essence on my tongue just by looking at her. My own inner animal ignites at her scent.
“She is pretty.”
“Yup. And she knows it. The one with the floppy ear, that’s Snoopy.”
“Did he injure himself?”
“Probably when he was a pup. He only has one ear that stands up now, but it doesn’t really affect his hearing. But because he has a defect, he’s lower down in the pack. He’s the last one who gets to eat, the guy everybody torments when they’re having a bad day. Every pack has one – a submissive member – but Snoopy has the strength to rise up when the time comes. He’s making a lot of noise right now, but he’s all show and no go.”
She hugs her arms around her center. “I know how he feels.”
“The one standing next to Snoopy with the black tips? That’s Leonardo. He’s the pack ladies’ man. And he likes them young. Like right off the tit. And Angelica?”
She finally cracks a smile at that one. “Yes?”
“You’re doing great, sweetheart. Just perfect. There’s a trick in dealing with these hunters. You probably know it even better than I do because you’re a woman and you’re used to dealing with assholes in bars and at Cool Beans. If you show fear, it immediately makes you prey. When you’re meeting them like this, they’re merely curious. They’re smart and sociable. But in a pack, they can act differently. If they’re in a pack and another creature shows fear, that can trigger an attack. Coyotes are creatures of opportunity. They’ll take the path of least resistance.”
She gives Snoopy the evil eye. “I don’t want to be their path of least resistance.”
I smile at her as I slowly undo her fingers from the sleeve of my parka. “And you’re not going to be. You’re with me, so they know you’re not afraid. And I would never let anything happen to you. I’m very good at what I do. I’ve never lost a friend yet.”
As if that completely settles the issue, I heft a canvas sack into her arms. “These are whitetail bones, their favorite treat. And now they associate you with their favorite thing in this entire world. Now, all you have to do is toss them out and you’re golden.”
Angelica’s eyes widen. “How about if you do the tossing and I go over and feed the orphan kits instead?”
“Nah, we want them to see the bones are coming from you. That way, they associate you with pleasure and all the good things life has to give. The offering of the bones will identify you as someone they can trust in case I ever get lucky enough for you to help me again.”
She tugs her lower lip between her teeth which only produces flashes of me sucking it into my mouth. “Okay.”
Despite her winding up and launching the bone like an MLB relief pitcher, the bone only lands about eight feet away. Mindy launches herself at it, growling and snarling like a coyote possessed. Angelica suppresses a shiver. Her hands move in a blur, trying to get rid of the rest of the bones as quickly as she can, hurling them like a tennis ball launcher.
That’s when I walk a few feet away and keep encouraging her in a low, calm voice. “Great job, Angel. You’re doing it. Don’t forget that the snarling sounds scary, but you have to remember they can’t talk. Sometimes their happy sounds are just as scary as their mad sounds.”
“This is their happy sound?” Slowly she’s breathing easier. And once she runs out of bone treats and they’re all occupied munching away, she’ll see they have zero interest in her and only want to chomp on their deer bones.
She sighs and rubs her hands together. “That was the last one.”
“You did so awesome!” I stride to her side and act like she just finished first in the hundred-yard dash at the Olympics. If I had a gold medal, I’d string it around her neck. Anxious to touch her, I squeeze her shoulders.
But I don’t dip my head and capture her lips like I really want to, even though whenever I’m anywhere near her, I forget common sense. I notice the snowflakes drifting into her thick mane of hair. I notice the sliver of fear remaining in her eyes. And when her gaze finally meets mine – the slow throb of her pulse in her neck, looking entirely lickable.
Despite the fact that she’s pulling away, thinking we’re not right for each other for whatever crazed reason is ping-ponging around in her pretty head, I’m all about proving her wrong. The right woman for me has to be my equal. A woman who’s not afraid to be herself and be independent. And the more I get to know Angelica, the more my feelings for her grow.
But I’m like the leader of this pack of wild coyotes at heart. The alpha male. With pride and strength and capabilities. But underneath all that lay our mutual shadows. Loneliness and loyalty. Loving me might be dangerous, and she probably understands that. Feels it underneath everything else somewhere in her soul.
But it’s also worth it.
And I’ll prove that to Angelica.
Because I can be passionate – taking what I want and claiming it as mine – but I can also be gentle. Soft. Vulnerable with someone I trust. And I already know that this particular woman needs both.
“Well,” I say, “are you ready to take on the little ones?”
She breaks away from my embrace and jogs over to the dish-shaped sled that I pull behind my skis, holding the kits’ formula. She lifts a bottle and starts shaking it. “Do you think they’re hungry?”
I back away a few steps. “Yup. Why don’t you carry your bottles inside your coat, so they’ll stay as warm as possible?”
She unzips her coat and stuffs the bottles inside. The result is a lumpy chest that makes her chuckle when she looks down at it. She kind of looks like a cross between the Michelin Man and an Eskimo. “I hate to tell you this, Knight, but you look ridiculous.”
After stuffing my parka the same way, I give a slow twirl and a challenging look. “Are you insulting me?”
A giggle bubbles up and escapes her full lips which only draws my attention to them. But there’s no time to taste her right now, not when a den of hungry kits demands our care. I lock my mind on the task at hand and ignore the temptation of her lush curves.
We crawl on our bellies to get to the fox hole just like we did the first time. Ducking overhead branches and brush, we’re both breathing heavily by the time we reach the pitch-black darkness underneath the ledge overhang.
She pauses when I do, lying elbow to elbow with me. Both of us wait until our eyes adjust to the darkness. The smell in the little cave is earthy and wild, not unpleasant but a little odd. Once the tense moment passes, I make out the nestled heap of kits. One lifts its tiny head.
The cute little devil looks awake, alert and staring right at me. He climbs to his feet, wavering a bit, tiny legs wobbling underneath him. He promptly falls down but then jumps back up again and growls at us. The noise is no more than an annoyance, and his fluffy tail wags so hard it gives him away.
“Aw, he’s just so cute. My heart feels like it’s going to explode.”
I roll on my back and pull out the first bottle, but my eyes stay glued to her face and not the kit.
My heart feels exactly the same way.
*****
We both burst through her door as soon as she unlocks it, shedding boots and parkas and gloves and scarves. The clothing explosion hits the floor all at the same time. We’re both tired and chilled to the bone. And starving. My stomach gives a growl of protest. For three days now, A
ngelica has helped me feed the kits every afternoon, but this is the first time she’s let me inside her cabin.
She hurries ahead of me, switching on a lamp, kicking a slipper out from under the couch and running her fingers through her wild head of thick hair. “Make yourself at home. I know it’s not much, but I did the best I could with a total man cave. All I have is some beef stew and homemade bread.”
I pat my still screaming stomach. “Sounds like a gourmet meal to me.”
She smiles and my heart starts shouting over my hunger. “I’ll get it ready then. I used the Instant Pot, so I’ll need to heat some up on the stove. Would you like water or coffee? Wine, maybe? I think I’d like a little Merlot to take the edge off the chill. It seems to have seeped into my bones.”
I can think of a much better way to heat you back up.
But I don’t say it. In fact, I feel guilty for even thinking it. The time will come to claim her completely, but I don’t think it’s here yet. “Do you need any help in the kitchen? I could pour the wine.”
“How about if you start a fire in the fireplace? Every time I do it, I seem to get smoke in my face. Thing’s pretty temperamental. I’m used to dealing with gas fireplaces, not wood burning.”
“It’s old. And it’s stone. Knowing Len, he hasn’t cleaned it in years.” As I walk over to the old fireplace, I scrounge around until I find a long lighter by the kindling. I hunker down by the hearth, but not before glancing around. A huge wicker basket of yarn sits in the corner.
But in addition to her little hobby, there are colorful prints on the walls and a lush, thick rug in pastels under my knees. I should have guessed that she could turn even this masculine place into a home. One of these days, I’ll have to figure out how such a feminine woman is hiding out here. Maybe even tonight after a few glasses of that wine she promised.
Maybe I’ll even be able to steal a few more of those earth shattering kisses.
I strike a match. The fire takes with a whoosh, filling the room with the fragrant smells of cedar and pine. I settle back, watching her. She races around the tiny kitchen, but not so fast I can’t see how the soft denim of her jeans hugs her heart-shaped ass. Or how her turtleneck sweater caresses her full tits and rounded stomach. As she works, Angelica fires questions at me – enough to keep a conversation going without my even having to think about what to say.
Finally A Bride: A Valentine's Day Romance Page 7
