Wolf Bait (Wolf Cove #1) (8 page)

Chapter Eight

I check my watch for the third time. He said 7:00 a.m.

So where is everyone?

I rushed past that guy, Connor, and the rest of the Outdoor crew in the staff lounge, a croissant hanging out of my mouth and a steaming cup of coffee in a Styrofoam cup. They didn’t seem to be in any hurry to get here on time, their forest-green all-weather jackets hanging off chairs. I don’t have a suitable jacket besides my winter coat, so I wore several layers plus my vest and hiking boots. I wonder if that’ll be good enough. If not, someone’s going to have to equip me.

If
someone shows up. Is this the right gate? It looks like the main gate, with iron rungs and a security booth made of stone and timber on the right. Kind of silly, given I heard there’s nowhere to go. The only way into Wolf Cove is by plane or boat. We’re surrounded by a mountain range and water, and ahead of us is the Kenai Fjords National Park.

I’m about to ask the guard when a low rumble cuts in to the remote peace. It’s coming from a black pickup truck slowly making its way along the service road, a pathway hidden from the lodge’s view by a thick cedar hedge.

I step aside to allow the truck past. It stops next to me instead.

“Get in.”

His deep, commanding voice—so early in the morning, so unexpected—makes me jump.

I can’t seem to form words. I simply stand and stare at Henry Wolf himself. He’s traded the tailored suit and styled hair for the red-and-black checked wool jacket and a less-tame head of waves that I remember from the other night, when I called him a lumberjack. The sleeves are rolled up to show off impressive forearms, thick and sinewy with muscle. His eyes hide behind a pair of aviator sunglasses, though it’s not nearly sunny enough to need them yet.

“You said you wanted some outdoor work, right?”

I finally find my tongue. “Right.”

“Well then, get in the truck.”

“With you?” I look around me, waiting for someone to jump out from behind a tree and yell, “Psych!”

“Not if you don’t hurry up.” There’s no mistaking the hint of a warning tone in his voice now.

I scurry over to the passenger side and climb in, slamming the heavy door behind me. A mixture of soap and bug spray hits me and I inhale deeply. I never thought bug spray could be so appealing.

He throws the truck into gear, and it lurches as it begins to move, jostling me around. “Sorry. It takes me a few days to get used to this engine again. My cars back home drive a lot more smoothly.”

Cars, plural. Of course. “That’s okay. I’m used to old farm trucks and bumpy roads.” I try not to stare at his profile, but I fail miserably. He’s honestly in a class all his own. His square, chiseled jaw is covered in a shadow of dark stubble, as if he forgot to shave. I’ve always thought a thin layer of stubble was sexy. Jed couldn’t grow it; it’d come in patchy. “Where’s home?” Do I address him as Henry or Mr. Wolf?

The security gate eases open and the guard throws a wave our way.

His large hands curl around the steering wheel as he pulls through. “Manhattan, mainly. Though I have a few places I like to spend time in.”

I shouldn’t be surprised. Of course a guy like this has homes, plural, to go along with his cars, plural.

Henry turns right at the end of the driveway, and onto a single-lane dirt road.

“So,” I decide on the more formal to be safe, “Mr. Wolf, where—”

“Call me Henry.” He turns to regard me with a smirk, his cheek marked by a deep dimple. “I think we’ve passed the formal greeting stage, haven’t we?”

I heave a shaky sigh. “Okay, Henry...” I like the feel of his name on my tongue. “Where are we going?”

“Does it matter?”

“No, I guess not.” I eye the twelve-gauge shotgun mounted over the rear windows.

He chuckles and the sound vibrates deep inside my chest. “Don’t worry. The safety’s on.”

“I’m not worried. I just wasn’t expecting to see one here.” I come from a family of hunters, so I’m comfortable enough around guns. “Why do we need it?”

“Have you ever seen a grizzly bear up close?”

When I shake my head, he shrugs. “I have. And that’s why we need a gun.”

“I thought they won’t usually attack.” That’s what the orientation video said.

“You’re right. They won’t, if we’re not stupid.” Henry’s eyes scan the brush by the side of the road as we drive, one hand resting on his thick, powerful thigh. The hand I was picturing on me last night, as I was coming. Just the thought makes me squeeze my thighs tightly together now. “But nothing is 100 percent. I like to be prepared for all possibilities.”

“So you’re a boy scout.”

That earns me another tiny, sexy smirk that makes my heart skip a beat. “Something like that.”

We ride in silence over the steep hills in the road. I do my best not to stare at him, but I can’t help glance intermittently, to catch a glimpse of his blue eyes, the color of the morning sky above us. He keeps seeing me do it, too, forcing me to veer my gaze to the road.

Only to wander back moments later.

Finally, he clears his throat, and I’m sure I’ve made him uncomfortable.

“So you decided to shave your beard?” I ask in a rush.

“I have some important people coming tomorrow. I figured it was time. And one of my employees mistook me for a lumberjack.”

I grin sheepishly. “I’m sorry about that. To be fair though, I was
really
drunk.”

“Yes, you were.”

“And you didn’t introduce yourself to me as my boss.”

“No, I didn’t.”

I wait for an explanation. When it doesn’t come, I go on. “I wish you had. Maybe I wouldn’t have made such a complete ass of myself.”

“Maybe you wouldn’t have been yourself then.”

“That was
not
me. That was me drunk for the first time in my life.” I wince, recalling how utterly wretched I felt yesterday. “And the last.”

“Probably a good thing, considering you nearly went swimming. Aside from that, you were entertaining.”

“Entertaining?” I turn to face the window so he doesn’t see my red cheeks, recalling some of the things I said and did. “It didn’t sound like you were amused, given the whole employee-code-of-conduct speech yesterday morning.” I read through it last night. Section five states no romantic relationships between management and their subordinates. It doesn’t specify anything about a drunken subordinate hitting on the hotel owner, but I’ll bet they’re adding that in as we speak.

“I didn’t have a choice. I can’t have my employees stumbling around drunk.”

Or trying to kiss you.
“You could have told me who you were, at least.”

He sighs. “Sometimes I need a break from all the Mr. Wolf and the nervousness and people walking on eggshells around me.”

“I crushed every eggshell there was.”

His chuckle fills the truck and my heart swells. I like making him laugh.

It would be easy for me to get lost in the nature around us, unlike anything I’ve ever seen before, the forest thick and lush even in early spring, the snowy ridge in the distance. If not for the man accompanying me, I would. But I still can’t seem to keep my eyes off him for long.

“You’re managing without your glasses?” he finally asks.

“Yes. Contacts.” As if reminded that they’re there, I blink repeatedly. I’m not used to wearing them all the time.

“Good. I was afraid you’d be blind.” He glances over at me. “You look different with them off. Your eyes are...”

“Too big for my face?” Kids used to tease me about them growing up, especially the boys. They called me “Bug Eyes” and “Owl.”

He doesn’t answer. Instead he asks, “How is everything so far? The food, the accommodations? Do they suit your needs?”

“Everything’s great.”

“Everything can’t be great. Everything’s never great.” His lips purse. “Tell me the truth.”

“Is this Mr. Wolf asking? Or Henry?”

He turns to spear me with a glare.

“The food is great. The cabins are good, if not a little bit crammed.”

“And your roommates?”

“Um. They’re...fine.” Thankfully Katie and Rachel were still asleep this morning when I ducked out.

He frowns. “That doesn’t sound convincing. We’ve never utilized a staff village like this before. I was worried about such close quarters, but my team promised me it would work out, with the way scheduling will be managed. Why? Are you having a problem with someone already?”

“No. Not at all. It’s just...” I hesitate. I shouldn’t be telling him this, should I?

“It’s just...” he pushes. I glance at him, and see the genuine worry etched in his face.

“I think two of them have sort of a thing going on.”

“Oh.” Henry’s brow pops over his sunglasses as realization dawns on him. “And it’s making you uncomfortable?”

“No. Well, not really. Last night, I kind of saw them in bed together.” I can’t believe I’m telling him this. I had no intention of telling anyone. But apparently I don’t have to be drunk to say inappropriate things around this man, after all. “I didn’t mean to, but their bunk is right next to me, and they didn’t pull the curtain around.” I blush with the memory. “One of them crawled into the other one’s bunk.”

He pauses for a moment, his eyes trained on the road. “So you saw two of your roommates fucking?”

Just the way he says that, so casually, sends heat through my core. I can’t believe I’m reacting this way to his words alone. I clear my throat. “Yes.”

“And you have a problem with that? Two women?”

“No! Not at all.”

Henry’s mouth opens then closes several times. When he finally speaks, his voice has turned low. “So you watched them?”

Is that an appropriate question for the owner of the hotel to ask me? I look out the window, my cheeks heating. “I didn’t mean to.”
Please don’t ask me if I enjoyed it.
Now that the moment’s over, I’m embarrassed about what I witnessed last night, and what I did afterward. But I also can’t ignore how alive it made me feel, how in tune with their pleasure my body was. How much I wanted to feel that.

How I came thinking of the man sitting right beside me.

“That must have been a shock for someone like you.”

I frown. “Someone like me?” It takes me a moment to understand what he’s saying.

A virgin. Someone who’s never even had a guy’s hand in my pants. That’s right. I told him that, too.

Henry pulls the truck to a stop near a logging road on my right. “Hold on. It’s going to get a little bit bumpy.” Throwing it into four-wheel drive, he then eases the truck through the deep divots in the muddy ground.

“Whose land is this?” I ask, grabbing on to the door with one hand and wrapping my other arm across my chest, the rough bouncing hurting my breasts.

By Henry’s sideways glance, he notices and slows down a touch. “Mine.”

“Your family’s?”

“No, mine. My grandfather left it all to me.”

So I guess that particular rumor was accurate. As we ease deeper into the woods, I can see the devastation where chainsaws cut into hundreds of years of growth, mowing down mass clearings. “This is so sad.”

“The hemlock and cedar used for the lodge was sourced from in here. Why buy from someone else what I have right in my backyard.”

“Yeah, I guess. You’re going to replant it all, though. Right?”

“Eventually. When I have the staff to do it.”

The wheels in my brain are turning. “I could do it.”

He stops the truck next to a fallen tree and turns the ignition. The deep rumbling stops, leaving us in eerie silence. Peeling his sunglasses off his face, he turns to level me with his beautiful eyes. “You’re going to plant all these trees yourself?”

“I could. It would take me all summer.”

His head tips back with his laughter, and I marvel at the sight of his Adam’s apple, the way it juts out. “You
really
don’t want to be in Housekeeping, do you?”

My giggle escapes me unbidden. “Like I said, I’m better suited to the outdoors.”

His gaze does a lightning-speed assessment of my body before muttering, “Come on.”

The second I crack the door, a cloud of mosquitos swarms me. It’s like they were waiting for fresh blood. I swat as I walk around to meet him in front of the truck. The bugs are way worse out here. “You’ll need these.” He tosses me a pair of work gloves. “And this. The stuff they gave you isn’t strong enough.” A can of bug spray sails through the air.

I quickly douse myself from head to toe while Henry disappears behind the truck. He emerges with an ax.

“We’re cutting wood?”

“Have you ever swung an ax before?” He strolls over to a massive stump nearby and rests the blade against it.

“No.”

“Then
I’m
cutting wood. You’re going to stack it in the back of the truck.”