The Bear's Virgin Darling (Honeypot Darlings Book 1) (5 page)

Wyatt

After I finish calling Ralph and Jed, I hop in the truck. Alex hasn’t gotten back to me about the calf yet, but I’m sure it’s wandering around somewhere. We’re outside of town, so I’m not too worried about anyone running it over. I just want to find it.

The biggest threat to one of my cattle right now is wildlife. Yeah, I’m a shifter, but there are wild animals, too: non-shifter animals. In Colorado, bears and mountain lions roam freely, so if my calf gets too far away from home, it’s at risk for more than just an empty stomach.

Instead of calling Alex and asking for an update, I peel down the road, both hands on the steering wheel. My thoughts shift from the little calf to the little human.

She couldn’t have gone far.

Hope has only been gone for maybe half an hour and that’s not nearly enough time for her to pack up her hotel room and leave.

What the hell is wrong with me? I slap the wheel as I drive and turn on the radio. A song I like starts playing through the speakers and I immediately start to relax. It’ll be okay. It has to be.

My brother obviously found this chick for a reason. Knowing him, I’d say the reason is that she’s absolutely adorable.

And feisty.

I might not be in the market for love, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to get to know Hope Demers just a little bit more.

I can’t believe I made her cry.

My first stop once I get to town is the motel. There are a few B&B’s in town, but the motel is the most likely stop for a lone and weary traveler. I hop inside but Bev, who runs the place, says she hasn’t had anyone new in the last few days. Of course, she could be keeping secrets – she does run a motel, after all – but Bev is an old friend of the family, so I like to think she’d let me in on whether or not Hope was staying there.

“Why’s this one got you all riled up?” Bev asks when I turn to go, and I shrug.

“I’m honestly not sure, but I was pretty unkind, and I owe her an apology.” Bev raises an eyebrow.

“A Blair? Admitting he was wrong
and
offering an apology?” She clutches her hand to her chest. “Well, I never thought I’d live to see the day.”

I roll my eyes and leave before she can keep teasing me. Once I’m back in the truck, my phone rings, and I ignore it at first. I don’t have time to deal with anyone right now. The only thing I want to deal with is Hope.

When it rings again, though, I finally pick up.

“What?” I ask.

“I should ask you the same fucking question, jackass, but I think I know the answer.”

“Carter,” I say. “What’s going on?”

“You had one thing to do, man! One thing. What the hell? You asked her if she was a hooker? You were talking about blowjobs? Seriously? Has it been that long since you got laid?”

“Wait, she
called
you?” Hope didn’t seem like the tattling type.

“Of course she didn’t call me. She was pouring her heart out to Savannah and I happened to overhear. You really upset her. Do you have any idea how hard it was to get her out here?”

“Please,” I say dryly. “Tell me all about it.”

“She’s from a small town in the middle of nowhere, graduated with honors, has no criminal record, and she’s a genius when it comes to social media. She single-handedly tripled her bookstore’s business in less than four months.”

Seriously?

Why the hell hadn’t she started the interview off with
that
?

Okay, so maybe she was nervous. And maybe I didn’t exactly help. Still, there was a lot she couldn’t have said to get the point across.

“And you want her to help us with our social media.”

“Ding ding ding.”

“I thought she’d only have minor social media tasks to do: nothing major. What about Micah?”

“What
about
Micah? He’s been so withdrawn the last few months, the last thing he needs is for me to give him another task. Besides, he’s a programmer, not a marketing specialist. Hope can help us turn the ranch around. If we actually want to start expanding and opening for tourists, we need an Internet presence, and it needs to be much more than what we have. That’s just a fact.”

“Is she still at Savannah’s?” I ask, hoping I’ll get lucky.

“I’m already gone, so I don’t know. It’s worth a shot, but my guess would be she went to get some lunch. I’m starving. She probably is, too, especially after her awful interview. Think comfort food, Wyatt. Comfort food.”

He hangs up the phone and I’m left staring at my cell, wondering what I’m supposed to do. Comfort food? There’s only one place in town for that.

Bumble’s Diner is across from the motel, so I hop back out of my truck and walk across the road. Sure enough, I notice her car parked at the far end of the lot. For the first time, I see how much stuff she’s got shoved inside and I realize that she really was counting on this job.

What have done?

Am I really that guy who could just crush the dreams of some girl I don’t even know?

I push the door open to the diner and stride in like I own the place. Selena immediately rushes over to hand me a menu, but I hold my hand up, a silent gesture for her to be silent, and I look around the room. It’s lunchtime, so every booth is full, but it’s the mop of blonde hair at the back that catches my eye.

Selena frowns when she sees where I’m looking, but I ignore her and head back to the booth. Hope is facing away from me and doesn’t notice my presence until I’m already in the booth.

She looks up, surprised, but immediately looks back down.

“What?” She whispers.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

“What?” She looks up, and it just about kills me to see how she’s been crying. Her eyes are red, puffy, and swollen. Her hair is completely frizzed at this point.

“Did you already order?”

“No, I…”

“Selena,” I call out, and she appears instantly, as if by magic. She shoots Hope a concerned look, but then turns back to me. “Two burgers, two fries, two milkshakes.”

“What flavor?”

“Strawberry.”

“Of course.”

“Thanks, Selena.”

I turn back to Hope. Her hands are on the table in front of her and I lift them into my own, giving them a gentle squeeze.

“What are you doing?” She asks.

“I’m sorry I was an asshole,” I say. “I think we got off to a bad start, and I’d like to offer you the position at Blair’s Ranch if you’re still interested.”

“I think you’re a huge jerk,” she whispers. Then she looks up at me, her eyes fierce, and I’m caught off guard by her strength. This is no ordinary human. This one has fire.

“I think many people would agree with you.”

“Yeah, I’ll work for you,” she says, finally. “I don’t have much of a choice, now, do I?” Selena appears with our drinks and leaves quietly, touching Hope’s shoulder as she goes in a gentle gesture of friendship.

“You can stay on site,” I tell her. “I can have a cabin ready for you tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

She sips at the milkshake and even though she’s really mad at me and I was really awful, I’m immediately hard as I watch her wrap her lips around the straw and suck.

Fuck.

Me.

Hope is gorgeous in all the right ways. She’s one of those girls who is naturally beautiful, but who obviously doesn’t know it, so her looks stand out even more. What would she look like on her knees with her mouth wrapped around my dick? What would she do if I fisted her hair and pulled her head back, just a little, just to meet her eyes? What would-

“Ow!” I cry out when Selena slaps me on the side of the head. Hope looks shocked, but Selena just frowns.

“I don’t know what the hell you were just thinking about,” she hisses at me, “but there are children present, and you’d better get that nastiness under control.” She drops our food in front of us and leaves, stomping off toward the front of the diner.

Selena is a shifter, too, which means she can scent my arousal.

If Selena can scent me, then everyone else in the diner can, too.

Oops.

“Friend of yours?” Hope asks, and this time she says it with a little smile.

“Oh yeah,” I say. “We’re old chums.”

She picks up her burger, then, and takes a bite. Then Hope lets out a soft, low moan that goes straight to my dick. This is going to be a long fucking meal.

Wyatt

At lunch, Hope tells me she’s staying at Mrs. Marsh’s. Perfect. Just what I need: Hope being around some perfect, goody-two shoes like Sawyer. When I ask her if she’s met a guy named Sawyer yet, she looks at me sideways and nods her head.

“What did you think of him?” I ask, but she smirks.

“Why? You jealous?” She winks, and suddenly, I realize that Hope has more strength than half the shifters in this damn town.

“Just be careful,” I say slowly, picking my words wisely.

“Oh, I always use protection.” She says, and my eyes go wide. She must be joking. Surely, she’s joking. Then I know for sure that she’s joking because Hope start laughing like crazy. She doubles over, holding her stomach and giggling.

“Come on, with some guy I just met? Get real.”

I pay for our lunch and walk her to her car.

“I’m sorry again,” I tell her. “I was an idiot this morning.”

“It’s okay,” she shrugs. “Sometimes people get off to a rocky start. I’m just glad you’re willing to give me another chance.”

I’m not sure how to end things between us. Do I hug her? Shake her hand? Somehow, after making her cry all morning, a handshake feels formal and a hug feels too personal, but Hope makes the decision for me when she leans up and kisses me on the cheek.

And I’m hard again.

“See you tomorrow,” she says, and gets in her car. She drives away and I wonder where she’s going, what she’s going to do today, and who she’s going to hang out with.

Most importantly, I wonder why she kissed me and how I can get her to do it again. Hope Demers is a sweet little human and I can’t wait to get to know her better.

A lot better.

***

“I hear you fucked things up today,” Micah cuts straight to the point when I knock on his door. He’s home, of course, as always.

“Don’t you ever go outside?” I ask, and instantly know it’s the wrong thing to say. His face goes dark and he turns back to his computer. What he’s working on, I have no idea. He does a lot of freelance stuff, but he also has his own computer business. He’s the go-to IT guy in Honeypot, but he’s also very private, even among his brothers. It wasn’t always like this between us, but in the last few years, Micah has become even more of a recluse.

“What do you want, Wyatt?” Micah says, not looking up at me.

“I need to fix up one of the cabins for Hope.” His eyes dart up and now I’m the one looking away.

“You hired a human?”

“Yeah.” I’m not surprised Micah knew she was human. He ran the background check, which means he looked for anything that would have indicated she was a shifter. Obviously, if someone comes from a known shifter area, it’s safe to assume they’re some sort of animal, as well. Even if they come from Boring, USA, like Hope, there are often signs to look for.

I’m guessing Hope displayed none of those signs.

“Does she know we’re bears?”

“No.”

“Are you going to tell her?”

“Wasn’t really planning on it.”

He sighs, but doesn’t seem to be judging me. If anything, Micah seems resigned that this is happening, as if he knew all along.

“What do you need from me?”

“Internet in Cabin 3, if you have time. I assume she has her own laptop.” Seriously, what kind of 26-year-old wouldn’t have their own laptop? I want to make Hope as comfortable as possible. It won’t make up for my jackassery, but it might help.

“If she doesn’t, I can help her get a good deal on one. No problem.” Micah pulls up a planning app on his computer and types a couple of things, then looks back at me. “I can have it done before dinner.”

“You’re the man,” I say, and he mumbles something, but I don’t catch it before I leave.

This is it, I realize, heading back toward the main house. We’ve hired a personal assistant slash gardener slash person who feeds the chickens. For the first time, I’ve been in control of hiring someone and even though I screwed it up, I managed to salvage it.

What would Mom and Dad think?

I know Carter has always been their favorite. As much as they tried not to play favorites, Carter will always hold a special place in their hearts. Maybe it’s because he was sick all the time as a kid or maybe it’s because he almost died at birth, but I know my parents will always think of Carter as the reliable child.

He’s the dependable one.

Micah is an artist. He’s always off in his own little world working on projects, always coming up with some way to better the world around him.

And me?

I’m the pessimist.

I might be the oldest, but I’m the one who gets my hands dirty on the ranch. I’m the one who goes to auction, who makes sure we’re getting the best cattle and getting the best prices for ours. I’m the one who makes sure every animal we bring is in healthy and in good condition, and if they aren’t, I get them there.

After a few years away in the Air Force, I came back to Honeypot with new determination and new resolve to make things work on the ranch. I’m smarter, wiser, and stronger than I was before I left.

I’m hands-on when it comes to our livestock and when it comes to things like fencing and security. I work long hours. I make sure every animal is fed, comfortable, healthy, and safe.

That’s all me.

I do it all on my own.

So for me to get out of my comfort zone and hire someone? That feels like a sweet success to me.

When I reach the house, I stand on the porch for a moment and look out over our land. In the distance, I can see the mountains peeking over the trees. It’s beautiful. Colorado has always been home to me. Even when I was away, I always knew I’d come back one day.

Quickly, I dart inside and load my arms up with cleaning supplies. Luckily, I always have plenty on hand. Then I go back out to the cabin. In addition to maintenance, I do a lot of the cleaning on the ranch. If there’s one thing I learned in the military, it was how to clean. Whenever there was downtime at work, we’d clean: floors, bathrooms, windows. We’d do it all and we’d do it well. I consider myself a sort of master-cleaner now.

The one thing I won’t do, though? I don’t touch the kitchen: food is Carter’s area.

My eyes wander to the small cabins we have. Right now we have five. Each one is equipped with a single bedroom and kitchen combo, along with a bathroom. Cabin 1 belongs to Micah and Cabin 2 is Alex’s. Cabin 3 is now Hope’s and the other two we plan to spruce up and use for tourists. If there’s enough of an interest, we’ll add more. I’d like to add at least three more before the end of the year, but that all depends on how much advertising we’re able to do and how good we end up being at stirring up interest in our land.

The one thing I don’t plan to do is be sneaky about our plans for the ranch. I don’t plan on taking customers away from Bev or Mrs. Marsh. Not at all. What I want is to expand the ranch and increase our profits without increasing the amount of work we’re doing. If we can get ourselves online and promote our ranch as a sweet slice of Colorado, we can attract families or couples who might want a private place to get away from the city.

With a sinking feeling, I realize that when Hope learns the truth about us, she might not want to stay. She might not realize it yet, but at some point I’m going to have to tell her we’re shifters. I just don’t want to freak her out. I was already a huge asshole to her. Do I really need to make her think I’m a freak, too?

To be fair, not many shifters just change right out in the open. We’re far too cautious for that sort of behavior, but it does happen from time to time. No, we prefer to shift in the moonlight when no one is around.

At least we bears do.

When I reach Cabin 3, I dump my cleaning supplies on the floor and get to work making everything spick and span. I’m more than aware of the fact that I need to make things up to her as much as possible. Why not start with a clean place to live?

As I clean, I allow myself to get curious. This is always a problem for bears. We have a reputation for letting our curiosity get us into trouble. Curious cats have nothing on curious bears.

Who is Hope Demers? And why would she choose Honeypot? I’m well aware of the fact that my brother set me up to have to interview her. Why? I’m not so sure about that, but Carter is going to get a piece of my mind when he gets home.

Maybe he thought she’d make a good mate for me. I push away the thought immediately, though. I’m not boyfriend material and I’m certainly not mate material. I’m damaged enough without having to be in a relationship with someone and let them see my problems first hand.

Still, I can’t shake the feeling that a girl like Hope deserves better than anything we have to offer. Maybe she’s in some kind of trouble. Maybe she’s running from the law. I remember her saying she talked to some cop about her interview and he told her to wear a low-cut shirt. My jaw clenches as I think about Edwards making a pass on Hope. She deserves better than him.

She deserves better than all of us.